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diff --git a/14484-8.txt b/14484-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bb876d1 --- /dev/null +++ b/14484-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,15404 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Seven Plays in English Verse, by Sophocles + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Seven Plays in English Verse + +Author: Sophocles + +Release Date: December 27, 2004 [EBook #14484] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SEVEN PLAYS IN ENGLISH VERSE *** + + + + +Produced by Ted Garvin, Fred Robinson and the PG Online Distributed +Proofreading Team + + + + + + + SOPHOCLES + + THE + SEVEN PLAYS IN ENGLISH VERSE + + BY + LEWIS CAMPBELL, M.A. + + HON. LL.D., HON. D.LITT. + EMERITUS PROFESSOR OF GREEK IN THE UNIVERSITY OF ST. ANDREWS + HON. FELLOW OF BALLIOL COLLEGE, OXFORD + + [Illustration: THE WORLD'S CLASSICS] + + NEW EDITION, REVISED + + HENRY FROWDE + OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS + LONDON, NEW YORK AND TORONTO + + + + + SOPHOCLES + + Born at Colonos probably 495 B.C. + Died 406 B.C. + +_The present translation was first published in 'The World's Classics' + in 1906._ + + + + + Sie hören nicht die folgenden Gesänge, + Die Seelen, denen ich die ersten sang. + + + + + CONTENTS + + PREFACE + PREFATORY NOTE TO THE EDITION OF 1883 + + ANTIGONE + AIAS + KING OEDIPUS + ELECTRA + THE TRACHINIAN MAIDENS + PHILOCTETES + OEDIPUS AT COLONOS + NOTES + + * * * * * + + + + + PREFACE + + +In 1869, having read the Antigone with a pupil who at the time had a +passion for the stage, I was led to attempt a metrical version of the +_Antigone_, and, by and by, of the Electra and Trachiniae.[1] I had +the satisfaction of seeing this last very beautifully produced by an +amateur company in Scotland in 1877; when Mrs. Fleeming Jenkin may be +said to have 'created' the part of Dêanira. Thus encouraged, I +completed the translation of the seven plays, which was published by +Kegan Paul in 1883 and again by Murray in 1896. I have now to thank +Mr. Murray for consenting to this cheaper issue. + +The seven extant plays of Sophocles have been variously arranged. In +the order most frequently adopted by English editors, the three plays +of the Theban cycle, Oedipus Tyrannus, Oedipus Coloneus, and Antigone, +have been placed foremost. + +In one respect this is obviously convenient, as appearing to present +continuously a connected story. But on a closer view, it is in two +ways illusory. + +1. The Antigone is generally admitted to be, comparatively speaking, +an early play, while the Oedipus Coloneus belongs to the dramatist's +latest manner; the first Oedipus coming in somewhere between the two. +The effect is therefore analogous to that produced on readers of +Shakespeare by the habit of placing Henry VI after Henry IV and V. But +tragedies and 'histories' or chronicle plays are not _in pari +materia_. + +2. The error has been aggravated by a loose way of speaking of 'the +Theban Trilogy', a term which could only be properly applicable if the +three dramas had been produced in the same year. I have therefore now +arranged the seven plays in an order corresponding to the most +probable dates of their production, viz. Antigone, Aias, King Oedipus, +Electra, Trachiniae, Philoctetes, and Oedipus at Colonos. A credible +tradition refers the Antigone to 445 B.C. The Aias appears to be not +much later--it may even be earlier--than the Antigone. The Philoctetes +was produced in 408 B.C., when the poet was considerably over eighty. +The Oedipus at Colonos has always been believed to be a composition of +Sophocles' old age. It is said to have been produced after his death, +though it may have been composed some years earlier. The tragedy of +King Oedipus, in which the poet's art attained its maturity, is +plausibly assigned to an early year of the Peloponnesian war (say 427 +B.C.), the Trachiniae to about 420 B.C. The time of the Electra is +doubtful; but Professor Jebb has shown that, on metrical grounds, it +should be placed after, rather than before, King Oedipus. Even the +English reader, taking the plays as they are grouped in this volume, +may be aware of a gradual change of manner, not unlike what is +perceptible in passing from Richard II to Macbeth, and from Macbeth to +The Winter's Tale or Cymbeline. For although the supposed date of the +Antigone was long subsequent to the poet's first tragic victory, the +forty years over which the seven plays are spread saw many changes of +taste in art and literature. + +Footnote: + 1 _Three Plays of Sophocles:_ Blackwood, 1873. + + * * * * * + + + + + PREFATORY NOTE TO THE + EDITION OF 1883 + + +I. The Hellenic spirit has been repeatedly characterized as simple +Nature-worship. Even the Higher Paganism has been described as 'in +other words the purified worship of natural forms.'[1] One might +suppose, in reading some modern writers, that the Nymphs and Fauns, +the River-Gods and Pan, were at least as prominent in all Greek poetry +as Zeus, Apollo, and Athena, or that Apollo was only the sweet singer +and not also the prophet of retribution. + +The fresh and unimpaired enjoyment of the Beautiful is certainly the +aspect of ancient life and literature which most attracted the +humanists of the sixteenth century, and still most impresses those +amongst ourselves who for various reasons desire to point the contrast +between Paganism and Judaism. The two great groups of forces vaguely +known as the Renaissance and the Revolution have both contributed to +this result. Men who were weary of conventionality and of the weight +of custom 'heavy as frost and deep almost as life,' have longed for +the vision of 'Oread or Dryad glancing through the shade,' or to 'hear +old Triton blow his wreathèd horn.' Meanwhile, that in which the +Greeks most resembled us, 'the human heart by which we live,' for the +very reason that it lies so near to us, is too apt to be lost from our +conception of them. Another cause of this one-sided view is the +illusion produced by the contemplation of statuary, together with the +unapproachable perfection of form which every relic of Greek antiquity +indisputably possesses. + +But on turning from the forms of Greek art to the substance of Greek +literature, we find that Beauty, although everywhere an important +element, is by no means the sole or even the chief attribute of the +greatest writings, nor is the Hellenic consciousness confined within +the life of Nature, unless this term is allowed to comprehend man with +all his thoughts and aspirations. It was in this latter sense that +Hegel recognized the union of depth with brightness in Greek culture: +'If the first paradise was the paradise of nature, this is the second, +the higher paradise of the human spirit, which in its fair +naturalness, freedom, depth and brightness here comes forth like a +bride out of her chamber. The first wild majesty of the rise of +spiritual life in the East is here circumscribed by the dignity of +form, and softened into beauty. Its depth shows itself no longer in +confusion, obscurity, and inflation, but lies open before us in simple +clearness. Its brightness (Heiterkeit) is not a childish play, but +covers a sadness which knows the baldness of fate but is not by that +knowledge driven out of freedom and measure.' Hegel's Werke, vol. XVI. +p. 139 (translated by Prof. Caird). The simplicity of Herodotus, for +example, does not exclude far reaching thoughts on the political +advantages of liberty, nor such reflections on experience as are +implied in the saying of Artabanus, that the transitoriness of human +life is the least of its evils. And in what modern writing is more of +the wisdom of life condensed than in the History of Thucydides? It is +surely more true to say of Greek literature that it contains types of +all things human, stamped with the freshness, simplicity, and +directness which belong to first impressions, and to the first +impressions of genius. + +Now the 'thoughts and aspirations,' which are nowhere absent from +Greek literature, and make a centre of growing warmth and light in its +Periclean period--when the conception of human nature for the first +time takes definite shape--have no less of Religion in them than +underlay the 'creed outworn'. To think otherwise would be an error of +the same kind as that 'abuse of the word Atheism' against which the +author of the work above alluded to protests so forcibly. + +Religion, in the sense here indicated, is the mainspring and vital +principle of Tragedy. The efforts of Aeschylus and Sophocles were +sustained by it, and its inevitable decay through the scepticism which +preceded Socrates was the chief hindrance to the tragic genius of +Euripides. Yet the inequality of which we have consequently to +complain in him is redeemed by pregnant hints of something yet 'more +deeply interfused,' which in him, as in his two great predecessors, is +sometimes felt as 'modern,' because it is not of an age but for all +time. The most valuable part of every literature is something which +transcends the period and nation out of which it springs. + +On the other hand, much that at first sight seems primitive in Greek +tragedy belongs more to the subject than to the mode of handling. The +age of Pericles was in advance of that in which the legends were first +Hellenized and humanized, just as this must have been already far +removed from the earliest stages of mythopoeic imagination. The reader +of Aeschylus or Sophocles should therefore be warned against +attributing to the poet's invention that which is given in the fable. + +An educated student of Italian painting knows how to discriminate--say +in an Assumption by Botticelli--between the traditional conventions, +the contemporary ideas, and the refinements of the artist's own fancy. +The same indulgence must be extended to dramatic art. The tragedy of +King Lear is not rude or primitive, although the subject belongs to +prehistoric times in Britain. Nor is Goethe's Faust mediaeval in +spirit as in theme. So neither is the Oedipus Rex the product of +'lawless and uncertain thoughts,' notwithstanding the unspeakable +horror of the story, but is penetrated by the most profound estimate +of all in human life that is saddest, and all that is most precious. + +Far from being naive naturalists after the Keats fashion, the Greek +tragic poets had succeeded to a pessimistic reaction from simple Pagan +enjoyment; they were surrounded with gloomy questionings about human +destiny and Divine Justice, and they replied by looking steadily at +the facts of life and asserting the supreme worth of innocence, +equity, and mercy. + +They were not philosophers, for they spoke the language of feeling; +but the civilization of which they were the strongest outcome was +already tinged with influences derived from early philosophy-- +especially from the gnomic wisdom of the sixth century and from the +spirit of theosophic speculation, which in Aeschylus goes far even to +recast mythology. The latter influence was probably reinforced, +through channels no longer traceable, by the Eleusinian worship, in +which the mystery of life and death and of human sorrow had replaced +the primitive wonder at the phenomena of the year. + +And whatever elements of philosophic theory or mystic exaltation the +drama may have reflected, it was still more emphatically the +repository of some of the most precious traditions of civilized +humanity--traditions which philosophy has sometimes tended to +extenuate, if not to destroy. + +Plato's Gorgias contains one of the most eloquent vindications of the +transcendent value of righteousness and faithfulness as such. But when +we ask, 'Righteousness in what relation?'--'Faithfulness to whom?'-- +the Gorgias is silent; and when the vacant outline is filled up in the +Republic, we are presented with an ideal of man's social relations, +which, although it may be regarded as the ultimate development of +existing tendencies, yet has no immediate bearing on any actual +condition of the world. + +The ideal of the tragic poet may be less perfect; or rather he does +not attempt to set before us abstractedly any single ideal. But the +grand types of character which he presents to the world are not merely +imaginary. They are creatures of flesh and blood, men and women, to +whom the unsullied purity of their homes, the freedom and power of +their country, the respect and love of their fellow-citizens, are +inestimably dear. From a Platonic, and still more from a Christian +point of view, the best morality of the age of Pericles is no doubt +defective. Such counsels of perfection as 'Love your enemies', or 'A +good man can harm no one, not even an enemy',--are beyond the horizon +of tragedy, unless dimly seen in the person of Antigone. The +coexistence of savage vindictiveness with the most affectionate +tenderness is characteristic of heroes and heroines alike, and +produces some of the most moving contrasts. But the tenderness is no +less deep and real for this, and while the chief persons are thus +passionate, the Greek lesson of moderation and reasonableness is +taught by the event, whether expressed or not by the mouth of sage or +prophet or of the 'ideal bystander'. + +Greek tragedy, then, is a religious art, not merely because associated +with the festival of Dionysus, nor because the life which it +represented was that of men who believed, with all the Hellenes, in +Zeus, Apollo, and Athena, or in the power of Moira and the Erinyes,-- +not merely because it represented + + 'the dread strife + Of poor humanity's afflicted will + Struggling in vain with ruthless destiny,' + +but much more because it awakened in the Athenian spectator emotions +of wonder concerning human life, and of admiration for nobleness in +the unfortunate--a sense of the infinite value of personal uprightness +and of domestic purity--which in the most universal sense of the word +were truly religious,--because it expressed a consciousness of depths +which Plato never fathomed, and an ideal of character which, if less +complete than Shakespeare's, is not less noble. It is indeed a 'rough' +generalization that ranks the Agamemnon with the Adoniazusae as a +religious composition. + +II. This spiritual side of tragic poetry deserves to be emphasized +both as the most essential aspect of it, and as giving it the most +permanent claim to lasting recognition. And yet, apart from this, +merely as dramas, the works of Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides +will never cease to be admired. These poets are teachers, but they +teach through art. To ask simply, as Carlyle once did, 'What did they +think?' is not the way to understand or learn from them. + +Considered simply as works of art, the plays of Sophocles stand alone +amongst dramatic writings in their degree of concentration and complex +unity. + +1. The interest of a Sophoclean drama is always intensely personal, +and is almost always centred in an individual destiny. In other words, +it is not historical or mythical, but ethical. Single persons stand +out magnificently in Aeschylus. But the action is always larger than +any single life. Each tragedy or trilogy resembles the fragment of a +sublime Epic poem. Mighty issues revolve about the scene, whether this +is laid on Earth or amongst the Gods, issues far transcending the fate +of Orestes or even of Prometheus. In the perspective painting of +Sophocles, these vast surroundings fall into the background, and the +feelings of the spectator are absorbed in sympathy with the chief +figure on the stage, round whom the other characters--the members of +the chorus being included--are grouped with the minutest care. + +2. In this grouping of the persons, as well as in the conduct of the +action, Sophocles is masterly in his use of pathetic contrast. This +motive must of course enter into all tragedy--nothing can be finer +than the contrast of Cassandra to Clytemnestra in the Agamemnon,--but +in Sophocles it is all-pervading, and some of the minor effects of it +are so subtle that although inevitably felt by the spectator they are +often lost upon the mere reader or student. And every touch, however +transient, is made to contribute to the main effect. + +To recur once more to the much-abused analogy of statuary:--the work +of Aeschylus may be compared to a colossal frieze, while that of +Sophocles resembles the pediment of a smaller temple. Or if, as in +considering the Orestean trilogy, the arrangement of the pediment +affords the more fitting parallel even for Aeschylus, yet the forms +are so gigantic that minute touches of characterization and of +contrast are omitted as superfluous. Whereas in Sophocles, it is at +once the finish of the chief figure and the studied harmony of the +whole, which have led his work to be compared with that of his +contemporary Phidias. Such comparison, however, is useful by way of +illustration merely. It must never be forgotten that, as Lessing +pointed out to some who thought the Philoctetes too sensational, +analogies between the arts are limited by essential differences of +material and of scope. All poetry represents successive moments. Its +figures are never in repose. And although the action of Tragedy is +concentrated and revolves around a single point, yet it is a dull +vision that confounds rapidity of motion with rest. + +3. Sophocles found the subjects of his dramas already embodied not +only in previous tragedies but in Epic and Lyric poetry. And there +were some fables, such as that of the death of Oedipus at Colonos, +which seem to have been known to him only through oral tradition. For +some reason which is not clearly apparent, both he and Aeschylus drew +more largely from the Cyclic poets than from 'our Homer'. The inferior +and more recent Epics, which are now lost, were probably more +episodical, and thus presented a more inviting repertory of legends +than the Iliad and Odyssey. + +Arctinus of Lesbos had treated at great length the story of the House +of Thebes. The legend of Orestes, to which there are several +allusions, not always consistent with each other, in the Homeric +poems, had been a favourite and fruitful subject of tradition and of +poetical treatment in the intervening period. Passages of the Tale of +Troy, in which other heroes than Achilles had the pre-eminence, had +been elaborated by Lesches and other Epic writers of the Post-Homeric +time. The voyage of the Argonauts, another favourite heroic theme, +supplied the subjects of many dramas which have disappeared. Lastly, +the taking of Oechalia by Heracles, and the events which followed it, +had been narrated in a long poem, in which one version of that hero's +multiform legend was fully set forth. + +The subjects of the King Oedipus, Oedipus at Colonos, and Antigone, +are taken from the Tale of Thebes, the Aias and the Philoctetes are +founded on incidents between the end of the Iliad and the taking of +Troy, the Electra represents the vengeance of Orestes, the crowning +event in the tale of 'Pelops' line', the Trachiniae recounts the last +crisis in the life of Heracles. + +4. Of the three Theban plays, the Antigone was first composed, +although its subject is the latest. Aeschylus in the Seven against +Thebes had already represented the young heroine as defying the +victorious citizens who forbade the burial of her brother, the rebel +Polynices. He allowed her to be supported in her action by a band of +sympathizing friends. But in the play of Sophocles she stands alone, +and the power which she defies is not that of the citizens generally, +but of Creon, whose will is absolute in the State. Thus the struggle +is intensified, and both her strength and her desolation become more +impressive, while the opposing claims of civic authority and domestic +piety are more vividly realized, because either is separately embodied +in an individual will. By the same means the situation is humanized to +the last degree, and the heart of the spectator, although strained to +the uttermost with pity for the heroic maiden whose life when full of +brightest hopes was sacrificed to affection and piety, has still some +feeling left for the living desolation of the man, whose patriotic +zeal, degenerating into tyranny, brought his city to the brink of +ruin, and cost him the lives of his two sons and of his wife, whose +dying curse, as well as that of Haemon, is denounced upon him. + +In the Oedipus Tyrannus, Sophocles goes back to the central crisis of +the Theban story. And again he fixes our attention, not so much on the +fortunes of the city, or of the reigning house, as on the man Oedipus, +his glory and his fall.-- + + 'O mirror of our fickle state + Since man on earth unparalleled! + The rarer thy example stands, + By how much from the top of wondrous glory, + Strongest of mortal men, + To lowest pitch of abject fortune thou art fallen[2]. + +The horror and the pity of it are both enhanced by the character of +Oedipus--his essential innocence, his affectionateness, his +uncalculating benevolence and public spirit;--while his impetuosity +and passionateness make the sequel less incredible. + +The essential innocence of Oedipus, which survives the ruin of his +hopes in this world, supplies the chief motive of the Oedipus at +Colonos. This drama, which Sophocles is said to have written late in +life, is in many ways contrasted with the former Oedipus. It begins +with pity and horror, and ends with peace. It is only in part founded +on Epic tradition, the main incident belonging apparently to the local +mythology of the poet's birthplace. It also implies a later stage of +ethical reflection, and in this respect resembles the Philoctetes; it +depends more on lyrical and melodramatic effects, and allows more room +for collateral and subsidiary motives than any other of the seven. Yet +in its principal theme, the vindication or redemption of an +essentially noble spirit from the consequences of error, it repeats a +note which had been struck much earlier in the Aias with great force, +although with some crudities of treatment which are absent from the +later drama. + +5. In one of the Epic poems which narrated the fall of Troy, the +figure of Aias was more prominent than in the Iliad. He alone and +unassisted was there said to have repulsed Hector from the ships, and +he had the chief share, although in this he was aided by Odysseus, in +rescuing the dead body of Achilles. Yet Achilles' arms were awarded by +the votes of the chieftains, as the prize of valour, not to Aias, but +to Odysseus. This, no doubt, meant that wisdom is better than +strength. But the wisdom of Odysseus in these later Epics was often +less nobly esteemed than in the Iliad and Odyssey, and was represented +as alloyed with cunning. + +Aias has withdrawn with his Salaminians, in a rage, from the fight, +and after long brooding by the ships his wrath has broken forth into a +blaze which would have endangered the lives of Odysseus and the +Atridae, had not Athena in her care for them changed his anger into +madness. Hence, instead of slaying the generals, he makes havoc +amongst the flocks and herds, which as the result of various forays +were the common property of the whole army. The truth is discovered by +Odysseus with the help of Athena, and from being next to Achilles in +renown, Aias becomes the object of universal scorn and hatred. The +sequel of this hour of his downfall is the subject of the Aias of +Sophocles. After lamenting his fate, the hero eludes the vigilance of +his captive bride Tecmessa, and of his Salaminian mariners, and, in +complete solitude, falls upon his sword. He is found by Tecmessa and +by his half-brother Teucer, who has returned too late from a raid in +the Mysian highlands. The Atridae would prohibit Aias' funeral; but +Odysseus, who has been specially enlightened by Athena, advises +generous forbearance, and his counsel prevails. The part representing +the disgrace and death of Aias is more affecting to modern readers +than the remainder of the drama. But we should bear in mind that the +vindication of Aias after death, and his burial with undiminished +honours, had an absorbing interest for the Athenian and Salaminian +spectator. + +Philoctetes also is rejected by man and accepted by Destiny. The +Argives in his case, as the Thebans in the case of Oedipus, are blind +to the real intentions of the Gods. + +The Philoctetes, like the Oedipus at Colonos, was a work of Sophocles' +old age; and while it can hardly be said that the fire of tragic +feeling is abated in either of these plays, dramatic effect is +modified in both of them by the influence of the poet's contemplative +mood. The interest of the action in the Philoctetes is more inward and +psychological than in any other ancient drama. The change of mind in +Neoptolemus, the stubborn fixity of will in Philoctetes, contrasted +with the confiding tenderness of his nature, form the elements of a +dramatic movement at once extremely simple and wonderfully sustained. +No purer ideal of virtuous youth has been imagined than the son of +Achilles, who in this play, though sorely tempted, sets faithfulness +before ambition. + +6. In the Electra, which, though much earlier than the Philoctetes, is +still a work of his mature genius, our poet appears at first sight to +be in unequal competition with Aeschylus. If the Theban trilogy of the +elder poet had remained entire, a similar impression might have been +produced by the Oedipus Tyrannus. It is best to lay such comparisons +aside, and to consider the work of Sophocles simply on its own merits. +The subject, as he has chosen to treat it, is the heroic endurance of +a woman who devotes her life to the vindication of intolerable wrongs +done to her father, and the restoration of her young brother to his +hereditary rights. Hers is the human agency which for this purpose +works together with Apollo. But the divine intention is concealed from +her. She suffers countless indignities from her father's enemies, of +whom her own mother is the chief. And, at length, all her hopes are +shattered by the false tidings that Orestes is no more. Even then she +does not relinquish her resolve. And the revulsion from her deep +sorrow to extremity of joy, when she finds Orestes at her side and +ready to perform the act of vengeance in his own person, is +irresistably affecting, even when the play is only read. + +Sophocles is especially great in the delineation of ideal female +characters. The heroic ardour of Antigone, and the no less heroic +persistence and endurance of Electra, are both founded on the strength +of their affection. And the affection in both cases is what some +moderns too have called the purest of human feelings, the love of a +sister for a brother. Another aspect of that world-old marvel, 'the +love of women,' was presented in Aias' captive bride, Tecmessa. This +softer type also attains to heroic grandeur in Dêanira, the wronged +wife of Heracles, whose fatal error is caused by the innocent working +of her wounded love. + +It is strange that so acute a critic as A.W. Schlegel should have +doubted the Sophoclean authorship of the Trachiniae. If its religious +and moral lessons are even less obtrusive than those of either Oedipus +and of the Antigone, there is no play which more directly pierces to +the very heart of humanity. And it is a superficial judgement which +complains that here at all events our sympathies are distracted +between the two chief persons, Dêanira and Heracles. To one passion of +his, to one fond mistake of hers, the ruin of them both is due. Her +love has made their fates inseparable. And the spectator, in sharing +Hyllus' grief, is afflicted for them both at once. We may well +recognize in this treatment of the death of Heracles the hand of him +who wrote-- + +[Greek: + su kai dikaiôn adikous + phrenas paraspas epi lôba, + ..., ... + amachos gar empaizei theos Aphrodita[3].] + +7. It is unnecessary to expatiate here on the merits of construction +in which these seven plays are generally acknowledged to be +unrivalled; the natural way in which the main situation is explained, +the suddenness and inevitableness of the complications, the steadily +sustained climax of emotion until the action culminates, the +preservation of the fitting mood until the end, the subtlety and +effectiveness of the minor contrasts of situation and character[4]. + +But it may not be irrelevant to observe that the 'acting qualities' of +Sophocles, as of Shakespeare, are best known to those who have seen +him acted, whether in Greek, as by the students at Harvard[5] and +Toronto[6], and more recently at Cambridge[7], or in English long ago +by Miss Helen Faucit (since Lady Martin[8]), or still earlier and +repeatedly in Germany, or in the French version of the Antigone by MM. +Maurice and Vacquerie (1845) or of King Oedipus by M. Lacroix, in +which the part of OEdipe Roi was finely sustained by M. Geoffroy in +1861, and by M. Mounet Sully in 1881[9]. With reference to the latter +performance, which was continued throughout the autumn season, M. +Francisque Sarcey wrote an article for the _Temps_ newspaper of August +15, 1881, which is full of just and vivid appreciation. At the risk of +seeming absurdly 'modern', I will quote from this article some of the +more striking passages. + + 'Ce troisième et ce quatrième actes, les plus émouvants qui se + soient jamais produits sur aucune scène, se composent d'une suite + de narrations, qui viennent l'une après l'autre frapper au coeur + d'OEdipe, et qui ont leur contrecoup dans l'âme des spectateurs. + Je ne sais qu'une pièce au monde qui soit construite de la sorte, + c'est l'_École des Femmes_. Ce rapprochement vous paraîtra + singulier, sans doute.... Mais ... c'est dans le vieux drame grec + comme dans la comédie du maître français une trouvaille de + génie.... + + 'Sophocle a voulu, après des émotions si terribles, après des + angoisses si sèches, ouvrir la source des larmes: il a écrit un + cinquième acte.... + + 'Les yeux crevés d'OEdipe ne sont qu'un accident, ou, si vous + aimez mieux, un accessoire, Le poète, sans s'arrêter à ce détail, + a mis sur les lèvres de son héros toute la gamme des sentiments + douloureux qu'excite une si prodigieuse infortune.... + + 'À la lecture, elle est un pen longue cette scène de + lamentations. Au théâtre, on n'a pas le temps de la trouver + telle: on pleure de toute son âme et de tous ses yeux. C'est + qu'après avoir eu le coeur si longtemps serré comme dans un étau, + on épreuve comme un soulagement à sentir en soi jaillir la source + des larmes. Sophocle, qui semble avoir été le plus malin des + dramaturges, comme il est le plus parfait des écrivains + dramatiques, a cherché là un effet de contraste dont l'effet est + immanquant sur le public.' + +These and other like remarks of one of the best-known critics of the +Parisian stage show that the dramatic art of Sophocles is still a +living power. + +I am well aware how feeble and inadequate the present attempted +reproduction must appear to any reader who knows the Greek original. +There is much to be said for the view of an eminent scholar who once +declared that he would never think of translating a Greek poet. But +the end of translating is not to satisfy fastidious scholars, but to +make the classics partially accessible to those whose acquaintance +with them would otherwise be still more defective. Part of this +version of Sophocles was printed several years ago in an imperfect +form. The present volume contains the seven extant plays entire. As +the object has been to give the effect of each drama as a whole, +rather than to dwell on particular 'beauties' (which only a poet can +render), the fragments have not been included. But the reader should +bear in mind that the seven plays are less than a tithe of the work +produced by the poet in his lifetime. + +It may very possibly be asked why verse has been employed at all. Why +not have listened to Carlyle's rough demand, 'Tell us what they +thought; none of your silly poetry'? The present translator can only +reply that he began with prose, but soon found that, for tragic +dialogue in English, blank verse appeared a more natural and effective +vehicle than any prose style which he could hope to frame. And with +the dialogue in verse, it was impossible to have the lyric parts in +any sort of prose, simply because the reader would then have felt an +intolerable incongruity. These parts have therefore been turned into +such familiar lyric measures as seemed at once possible and not +unsuitable. And where this method was found impracticable, as +sometimes in the _Commoi_, blank metres have again been used,--with +such liberties as seemed appropriate to the special purpose. The +writer's hope throughout has been, not indeed fully to transfuse the +poetry of Sophocles into another tongue, but to make the poet's +dramatic intention to be understood and felt by English readers. One +more such endeavour may possibly find acceptance at a time when many +causes have combined to awaken a fresh interest at once in dramatic +literature and in Hellenic studies. + +The reader who is hitherto unacquainted with the Greek drama, should +be warned that the parts assigned to the 'Chorus' were often +distributed among its several members, who spoke or chanted, singly or +in groups, alternately or in succession. In some cases, but not in +all, _Ch. 1_, _Ch. 2_, &c., have been prefixed, to indicate such an +arrangement. + +Footnotes: + 1 [Sir John Seeley's] _Natural Religion_, p. 79. + + 2 Milton, _Samson Agonistes_, 164-169. + + 3 'Thou drawest awry + Just minds to wrong and ruin ... + ... With resistless charm + Great Aphrodite mocks the might of men.' + _Antigone._ + + 4 Cf. _Sophocles_ in Green's 'Classical Writers.' Macmillan & Co. + + 5 Oed. Tyr., 1881. + + 6 Antigone, 1882. + + 7 Ajax, Nov. 1882. + + 8 Antigone, 1845. + + 9 The performance of Greek plays (as of the Agamemnon at Oxford in + 1880) is not altogether a new thing in England. The author of Ion, + Mr. Serjeant Talfourd, in his Notice prefixed to that drama in + 1836, mentions, amongst other reasons for having intended to + dedicate it to Dr. Valpy, 'the exquisite representations of Greek + Tragedy, which he superintended,' and which 'made his images + vital.' At a still earlier time, 'the great Dr. Parr' had + encouraged his pupils at Stanmore to recite the dialogue of Greek + tragedies before an audience and in costume. It would be + ungrateful to omit all reference here to some performances of the + Trachiniae in English in Edinburgh and St. Andrews in 1877, which, + though not of a public nature, are still remembered with delight + by those who were present at them, and were really the first of a + series. + + * * * * * + + + + + ANTIGONE + + + THE PERSONS + +ANTIGONE,} _Daughters of Oedipus and Sisters of Polynices_ +ISMENE, } _and Eteocles._ +CHORUS _of Theban Elders._ +CREON, _King of Thebes._ +_A Watchman._ +HAEMON, _Son of Creon, betrothed to Antigone._ +TIRESIAS, _the blind Prophet._ +_A Messenger._ +EURYDICE, _the Wife of Creon._ +_Another Messenger._ + + +SCENE. Before the Cadmean Palace at Thebes. + +_Note._ The town of Thebes is often personified as Thebè. + + + + +Polynices, son and heir to the unfortunate Oedipus, having been +supplanted by his younger brother Eteocles, brought an army of Argives +against his native city, Thebes. The army was defeated, and the two +brothers slew each other in single combat. On this Creon, the brother- +in-law of Oedipus, succeeding to the chief power, forbade the burial +of Polynices. But Antigone, sister of the dead, placing the dues of +affection and piety before her obligation to the magistrate, disobeyed +the edict at the sacrifice of her life. Creon carried out his will, +but lost his son Haemon and his wife Eurydice, and received their +curses on his head. His other son, Megareus, had previously been +devoted as a victim to the good of the state. + + + + + ANTIGONE + + +ANTIGONE. ISMENE. + +ANTIGONE. Own sister of my blood, one life with me, +Ismenè, have the tidings caught thine ear? +Say, hath not Heaven decreed to execute +On thee and me, while yet we are alive, +All the evil Oedipus bequeathed? All horror, +All pain, all outrage, falls on us! And now +The General's proclamation of to-day-- +Hast thou not heard?--Art thou so slow to hear +When harm from foes threatens the souls we love? + +ISMENE. No word of those we love, Antigone, +Painful or glad, hath reached me, since we two +Were utterly deprived of our two brothers, +Cut off with mutual stroke, both in one day. +And since the Argive host this now-past night +Is vanished, I know nought beside to make me +Nearer to happiness or more in woe. + +ANT. I knew it well, and therefore led thee forth +The palace gate, that thou alone mightst hear. + +ISM. Speak on! Thy troubled look bodes some dark news. + +ANT. Why, hath not Creon, in the burial-rite, +Of our two brethren honoured one, and wrought +On one foul wrong? Eteocles, they tell, +With lawful consecration he lays out, +And after covers him in earth, adorned +With amplest honours in the world below. +But Polynices, miserably slain, +They say 'tis publicly proclaimed that none +Must cover in a grave, nor mourn for him; +But leave him tombless and unwept, a store +Of sweet provision for the carrion fowl +That eye him greedily. Such righteous law +Good Creon hath pronounced for thy behoof-- +Ay, and for mine! I am not left out!--And now +He moves this way to promulgate his will +To such as have not heard, nor lightly holds +The thing he bids, but, whoso disobeys, +The citizens shall stone him to the death. +This is the matter, and thou wilt quickly show +If thou art noble, or fallen below thy birth. + +ISM. Unhappy one! But what can I herein +Avail to do or undo? + +ANT. Wilt thou share +The danger and the labour? Make thy choice. + +ISM. Of what wild enterprise? What canst thou mean? + +ANT. Wilt thou join hand with mine to lift the dead? + +ISM. To bury him, when all have been forbidden? +Is that thy thought? + +ANT. To bury my own brother +And thine, even though thou wilt not do thy part. +I will not be a traitress to my kin. + +ISM. Fool-hardy girl! against the word of Creon? + +ANT. He hath no right to bar me from mine own. + +ISM. Ah, sister, think but how our father fell, +Hated of all and lost to fair renown, +Through self-detected crimes--with his own hand, +Self-wreaking, how he dashed out both his eyes: +Then how the mother-wife, sad two-fold name! +With twisted halter bruised her life away, +Last, how in one dire moment our two brothers +With internecine conflict at a blow +Wrought out by fratricide their mutual doom. +Now, left alone, O think how beyond all +Most piteously we twain shall be destroyed, +If in defiance of authority +We traverse the commandment of the King! +We needs must bear in mind we are but women, +Never created to contend with men; +Nay more, made victims of resistless power, +To obey behests more harsh than this to-day. +I, then, imploring those beneath to grant +Indulgence, seeing I am enforced in this, +Will yield submission to the powers that rule, +Small wisdom were it to overpass the bound. + +ANT. I will not urge you! no! nor if now you list +To help me, will your help afford me joy. +Be what you choose to be! This single hand +Shall bury our lost brother. Glorious +For me to take this labour and to die! +Dear to him will my soul be as we rest +In death, when I have dared this holy crime. +My time for pleasing men will soon be over; +Not so my duty toward the Dead! My home +Yonder will have no end. You, if you will, +May pour contempt on laws revered on High. + +ISM. Not from irreverence. But I have no strength +To strive against the citizens' resolve. + +ANT. Thou, make excuses! I will go my way +To raise a burial-mound to my dear brother. + +ISM. Oh, hapless maiden, how I fear for thee! + +ANT. Waste not your fears on me! Guide your own fortune. + +ISM. Ah! yet divulge thine enterprise to none, +But keep the secret close, and so will I. + +ANT. O Heavens! Nay, tell! I hate your silence worse; +I had rather you proclaimed it to the world. + +ISM. You are ardent in a chilling enterprise. + +ANT. I know that I please those whom I would please. + +ISM. Yes, if you thrive; but your desire is bootless. + +ANT. Well, when I fail I shall be stopt, I trow! + +ISM. One should not start upon a hopeless quest. + +ANT. Speak in that vein if you would earn my hate +And aye be hated of our lost one. Peace! +Leave my unwisdom to endure this peril; +Fate cannot rob me of a noble death. + +ISM. Go, if you must--Not to be checked in folly, +But sure unparalleled in faithful love! [_Exeunt_ + +CHORUS (_entering_). + Beam of the mounting Sun! I 1 + O brightest, fairest ray + Seven-gated Thebè yet hath seen! + Over the vale where Dircè's fountains run + At length thou appearedst, eye of golden Day, + And with incitement of thy radiance keen + Spurredst to faster flight + The man of Argos hurrying from the fight. + Armed at all points the warrior came, + But driven before thy rising flame + He rode, reverting his pale shield, + Headlong from yonder battlefield. + + In snow-white panoply, on eagle wing, [_Half-Chorus_ + He rose, dire ruin on our land to bring, + Roused by the fierce debate + Of Polynices' hate, + Shrilling sharp menace from his breast, + Sheathed all in steel from crown to heel, + With many a plumèd crest. + + Then stooped above the domes, I 2 + With lust of carnage fired, + And opening teeth of serried spears + Yawned wide around the gates that guard our homes; + But went, or e'er his hungry jaws had tired + On Theban flesh,--or e'er the Fire-god fierce + Seizing our sacred town + Besmirched and rent her battlemented crown. + Such noise of battle as he fled + About his back the War-god spread; + So writhed to hard-fought victory + The serpent[1] struggling to be free. + + High Zeus beheld their stream that proudly rolled [_Half-Chorus_ + Idly caparisoned[2] with clanking gold: + Zeus hates the boastful tongue: + He with hurled fire down flung + One who in haste had mounted high, + And that same hour from topmost tower + Upraised the exulting cry. + + Swung rudely to the hard repellent earth II 1 + Amidst his furious mirth + He fell, who then with flaring brand + Held in his fiery hand + Came breathing madness at the gate + In eager blasts of hate. + And doubtful swayed the varying fight + Through the turmoil of the night, + As turning now on these and now on those + Ares hurtled 'midst our foes, + Self-harnessed helper[3] on our right. + + Seven matched with seven, at each gate one, [_Half-Chorus_ + Their captains, when the day was done, + Left for our Zeus who turned the scale, + The brazen tribute in full tale:-- + All save the horror-burdened pair, + Dire children of despair, + Who from one sire, one mother, drawing breath, + Each with conquering lance in rest + Against a true born brother's breast, + Found equal lots in death. + + But with blithe greeting to glad Thebe came II 2 + She of the glorious name, + Victory,--smiling on our chariot throng + With eyes that waken song + Then let those battle memories cease, + Silenced by thoughts of peace. + With holy dances of delight + Lasting through the livelong night + Visit we every shrine, in solemn round, + Led by him who shakes the ground, + Our Bacchus, Thebe's child of light. + +LEADER OF CHORUS. + But look! where Creon in his new-made power, + Moved by the fortune of the recent hour, + Comes with fresh counsel. What intelligence + Intends he for our private conference, + That he hath sent his herald to us all, + Gathering the elders with a general call? + +_Enter_ CREON. + +CREON. My friends, the noble vessel of our State, +After sore shaking her, the Gods have sped +On a smooth course once more. I have called you hither, +By special messengers selecting you +From all the city, first, because I knew you +Aye loyal to the throne of Laïus; +Then, both while Oedipus gave prosperous days, +And since his fall, I still beheld you firm +In sound allegiance to the royal issue. +Now since the pair have perished in an hour, +Twinned in misfortune, by a mutual stroke +Staining our land with fratricidal blood, +All rule and potency of sovereign sway, +In virtue of next kin to the deceased, +Devolves on me. But hard it is to learn +The mind of any mortal or the heart, +Till he be tried in chief authority. +Power shows the man. For he who when supreme +Withholds his hand or voice from the best cause, +Being thwarted by some fear, that man to me +Appears, and ever hath appeared, most vile. +He too hath no high place in mine esteem, +Who sets his friend before his fatherland. +Let Zeus whose eye sees all eternally +Be here my witness. I will ne'er keep silence +When danger lours upon my citizens +Who looked for safety, nor make him my friend +Who doth not love my country. For I know +Our country carries us, and whilst her helm +Is held aright we gain good friends and true. + Following such courses 'tis my steadfast will +To foster Thebè's greatness, and therewith +In brotherly accord is my decree +Touching the sons of Oedipus. The man-- +Eteocles I mean--who died for Thebes +Fighting with eminent prowess on her side, +Shall be entombed with every sacred rite +That follows to the grave the lordliest dead. +But for his brother, who, a banished man, +Returned to devastate and burn with fire +The land of his nativity, the shrines +Of his ancestral gods, to feed him fat +With Theban carnage, and make captive all +That should escape the sword--for Polynices, +This law hath been proclaimed concerning him: +He shall have no lament, no funeral, +But he unburied, for the carrion fowl +And dogs to eat his corse, a sight of shame. + Such are the motions of this mind and will. +Never from me shall villains reap renown +Before the just. But whoso loves the State, +I will exalt him both in life and death. + +CH. Son of Menoeceus, we have heard thy mind +Toward him who loves, and him who hates our city. +And sure, 'tis thine to enforce what law thou wilt +Both on the dead and all of us who live. + +CR. Then be ye watchful to maintain my word. + +CH. Young strength for such a burden were more meet. + +CR. Already there be watchers of the dead. + +CH. What charge then wouldst thou further lay on us? + +CR. Not to give place to those that disobey. + +CH. Who is so fond, to be in love with death? + +CR. Such, truly, is the meed. But hope of gain +Full oft ere now hath been the ruin of men. + +WATCHMAN (_entering_). + My lord, I am out of breath, but not with speed. +I will not say my foot was fleet. My thoughts +Cried halt unto me ever as I came +And wheeled me to return. My mind discoursed +Most volubly within my breast, and said-- +Fond wretch! why go where thou wilt find thy bane? +Unhappy wight! say, wilt thou bide aloof? +Then if the king shall hear this from another, +How shalt thou 'scape for 't? Winding thus about +I hasted, but I could not speed, and so +Made a long journey of a little way. +At last 'yes' carried it, that I should come +To thee; and tell thee I must needs; and shall, +Though it be nothing that I have to tell. +For I came hither, holding fast by this-- +Nought that is not my fate can happen to me. + +CR. Speak forth thy cause of fear. What is the matter? + +WATCH. First of mine own part in the business. For +I did it not, nor saw the man who did, +And 'twere not right that I should come to harm. + +CR. You fence your ground, and keep well out of danger; +I see you have some strange thing to declare. + +WATCH. A man will shrink who carries words of fear. + +CB. Let us have done with you. Tell your tale, and go. + +WATCH. Well, here it is. The corse hath burial +From some one who is stolen away and gone, +But first hath strown dry dust upon the skin, +And added what religious rites require. + +CR. Ha! +What man hath been so daring in revolt? + +WATCH. I cannot tell. There was no mark to show-- +No dint of spade, or mattock-loosened sod,-- +Only the hard bare ground, untilled and trackless. +Whoe'er he was, the doer left no trace. +And, when the scout of our first daylight watch +Showed us the thing, we marvelled in dismay. +The Prince was out of sight; not in a grave, +But a thin dust was o'er him, as if thrown +By one who shunned the dead man's curse. No sign +Appeared of any hound or beast o' the field +Having come near, or pulled at the dead body. +Then rose high words among us sentinels +With bickering noise accusing each his mate, +And it seemed like to come to blows, with none +To hinder. For the hand that thus had wrought +Was any of ours, and none; the guilty man +Escaped all knowledge. And we were prepared +To lift hot iron with our bare palms; to walk +Through fire, and swear by all the Gods at once +That we were guiltless, ay, and ignorant +Of who had plotted or performed this thing. + When further search seemed bootless, at the last +One spake, whose words bowed all our heads to the earth +With fear. We knew not what to answer him, +Nor how to do it and prosper. He advised +So grave a matter must not be concealed, +But instantly reported to the King. + Well, this prevailed, and the lot fell on me, +Unlucky man! to be the ministrant +Of this fair service. So I am present here, +Against my will and yours, I am sure of that. +None love the bringer of unwelcome news. + +CH. My lord, a thought keeps whispering in my breast, +Some Power divine hath interposed in this. + +CR. Cease, ere thou quite enrage me, and appear +Foolish as thou art old. Talk not to me +Of Gods who have taken thought for this dead man! +Say, was it for his benefits to them +They hid his corse, and honoured him so highly, +Who came to set on fire their pillared shrines, +With all the riches of their offerings, +And to make nothing of their land and laws? +Or, hast thou seen them honouring villany? +That cannot be. Long time the cause of this +Hath come to me in secret murmurings +From malcontents of Thebes, who under yoke +Turned restive, and would not accept my sway. +Well know I, these have bribed the watchmen here +To do this for some fee. For nought hath grown +Current among mankind so mischievous +As money. This brings cities to their fall: +This drives men homeless, and moves honest minds +To base contrivings. This hath taught mankind +The use of wickedness, and how to give +An impious turn to every kind of act. +But whosoe'er hath done this for reward +Hath found his way at length to punishment. +If Zeus have still my worship, be assured +Of that which here on oath I say to thee-- +Unless ye find the man who made this grave +And bring him bodily before mine eye, +Death shall not be enough, till ye have hung +Alive for an example of your guilt, +That henceforth in your rapine ye may know +Whence gain is to be gotten, and may learn +Pelf from all quarters is not to be loved. +For in base getting, 'tis a common proof, +More find disaster than deliverance. + +WATCH. Am I to speak? or must I turn and go? + +CR. What? know you not your speech offends even now? + +WATCH. Doth the mind smart withal, or only the ear? + +CR. Art thou to probe the seat of mine annoy? + +WATCH. If I offend, 'tis in your ear alone, +The malefactor wounds ye to the soul. + +CR. Out on thee! thou art nothing but a tongue. + +WATCH. Then was I ne'er the doer of this deed. + +CR. Yea, verily: self-hired to crime for gold. + +WATCH. Pity so clear a mind should clearly err! + +CR. Gloze now on clearness! But unless ye bring +The burier, without glozing ye shall tell, +Craven advantage clearly worketh bane. + +WATCH. By all means let the man be found; one thing +I know right well:--caught or not caught, howe'er +Fate rules his fortune, me you ne'er will see +Standing in presence here. Even now I owe +Deep thanks to Heaven for mine escape, so far +Beyond my hope and highest expectancy. [_Exeunt severally_ + +CHORUS. +Many a wonder lives and moves, but the wonder of all is man, I 1 +That courseth over the grey ocean, carried of Southern gale, +Faring amidst high-swelling seas that rudely surge around, +And Earth, supreme of mighty Gods, eldest, imperishable, +Eternal, he with patient furrow wears and wears away + As year by year the plough-shares turn and turn,-- +Subduing her unwearied strength with children of the steed[4]. + +And wound in woven coils of nets he seizeth for his prey I 2 +The aëry tribe of birds and wilding armies of the chase, +And sea-born millions of the deep--man is so crafty-wise. +And now with engine of his wit he tameth to his will +The mountain-ranging beast whose lair is in the country wild; + And now his yoke hath passed upon the mane +Of horse with proudly crested neck and tireless mountain bull. + +Wise utterance and wind-swift thought, and city-moulding mind, II 1 +And shelter from the clear-eyed power of biting frost, +He hath taught him, and to shun the sharp, roof-penetrating rain,-- +Full of resource, without device he meets no coming time; + From Death alone he shall not find reprieve; +No league may gain him that relief; but even for fell disease, +That long hath baffled wisest leech, he hath contrived a cure. + +Inventive beyond wildest hope, endowed with boundless skill, II 2 +One while he moves toward evil, and one while toward good, +According as he loves his land and fears the Gods above. +Weaving the laws into his life and steadfast oath of Heaven, + High in the State he moves but outcast he, +Who hugs dishonour to his heart and follows paths of crime +Ne'er may he come beneath my roof, nor think like thoughts with me. + +LEADER OF CHORUS + What portent from the Gods is here? + My mind is mazed with doubt and fear. + How can I gainsay what I see? + I know the girl Antigone, + O hapless child of hapless sire! + Didst thou, then, recklessly aspire + To brave kings' laws, and now art brought + In madness of transgression caught? + +_Enter_ Watchman, _bringing in_ ANTIGONE + +WATCH. Here is the doer of the deed--this maid +We found her burying him. Where is the King? + +CH. Look, he comes forth again to meet thy call. + +_Enter_ CREON. + +CR. What call so nearly times with mine approach? + +WATCH. My lord, no mortal should deny on oath, +Judgement is still belied by after thought +When quailing 'neath the tempest of your threats, +Methought no force would drive me to this place +But joy unlook'd for and surpassing hope +Is out of bound the best of all delight, +And so I am here again,--though I had sworn +I ne'er would come,--and in my charge this maid, +Caught in the act of caring for the dead +Here was no lot throwing, this hap was mine +Without dispute. And now, my sovereign lord, +According to thy pleasure, thine own self +Examine and convict her. For my part +I have good right to be away and free +From the bad business I am come upon. + +CR. This maiden! +How came she in thy charge? Where didst thou find her? + +WATCH. Burying the prince. One word hath told thee all. + +CR. Hast thou thy wits, and knowest thou what thou sayest? + +WATCH. I saw her burying him whom you forbade +To bury. Is that, now, clearly spoken, or no? + +CR. And how was she detected, caught, and taken? + +WATCH. It fell in this wise. We were come to the spot, +Bearing the dreadful burden of thy threats; +And first with care we swept the dust away +From round the corse, and laid the dank limbs bare: +Then sate below the hill-top, out o' the wind, +Where no bad odour from the dead might strike us, +Stirring each other on with interchange +Of loud revilings on the negligent +In 'tendance on this duty. So we stayed +Till in mid heaven the sun's resplendent orb +Stood high, and the heat strengthened. Suddenly, +The Storm-god raised a whirlwind from the ground, +Vexing heaven's concave, and filled all the plain, +Rending the locks of all the orchard groves, +Till the great sky was choked withal. We closed +Our lips and eyes, and bore the God-sent evil. +When after a long while this ceased, the maid +Was seen, and wailed in high and bitter key, +Like some despairing bird that hath espied +Her nest all desolate, the nestlings gone. +So, when she saw the body bare, she mourned +Loudly, and cursed the authors of this deed. +Then nimbly with her hands she brought dry dust, +And holding high a shapely brazen cruse, +Poured three libations, honouring the dead. +We, when we saw, ran in, and straightway seized +Our quarry, nought dismayed, and charged her with +The former crime and this. And she denied +Nothing;--to my delight, and to my grief. +One's self to escape disaster is great joy; +Yet to have drawn a friend into distress +Is painful. But mine own security +To me is of more value than aught else. + +CR. Thou, with thine eyes down-fastened to the earth! +Dost thou confess to have done this, or deny it? + +ANT. I deny nothing. I avow the deed. + +CR. (_to_ Watchman). +Thou may'st betake thyself whither thou wilt, +Acquitted of the grievous charge, and free. +(_to_ ANTIGONE) +And thou,--no prating talk, but briefly tell, +Knew'st thou our edict that forbade this thing? + +ANT. I could not fail to know. You made it plain. + +CR. How durst thou then transgress the published law? + +ANT. I heard it not from Heaven, nor came it forth +From Justice, where she reigns with Gods below. +They too have published to mankind a law. +Nor thought I thy commandment of such might +That one who is mortal thus could overbear +The infallible, unwritten laws of Heaven. +Not now or yesterday they have their being, +But everlastingly, and none can tell +The hour that saw their birth. I would not, I, +For any terror of a man's resolve, +Incur the God-inflicted penalty +Of doing them wrong. That death would come, I knew +Without thine edict;--if before the time, +I count it gain. Who does not gain by death, +That lives, as I do, amid boundless woe? +Slight is the sorrow of such doom to me. +But had I suffered my own mother's child, +Fallen in blood, to be without a grave, +That were indeed a sorrow. This is none. +And if thou deem'st me foolish for my deed, +I am foolish in the judgement of a fool. + +CH. Fierce shows the maiden's vein from her fierce sire; +Calamity doth not subdue her will. + +CR. Ay, but the stubborn spirit first doth fall. +Oft ye shall see the strongest bar of steel, +That fire hath hardened to extremity, +Shattered to pieces. A small bit controls +The fiery steed. Pride may not be endured +In one whose life is subject to command. +This maiden hath been conversant with crime +Since first she trampled on the public law; +And now she adds to crime this insolence, +To laugh at her offence, and glory in it. +Truly, if she that hath usurped this power +Shall rest unpunished, she then is a man, +And I am none. Be she my sister's child, +Or of yet nearer blood to me than all +That take protection from my hearth, the pair +Shall not escape the worst of deaths. For know, +I count the younger of the twain no less +Copartner in this plotted funeral: +And now I bid you call her. Late I saw her +Within the house, beyond herself, and frantic. +--Full oft when one is darkly scheming wrong, +The disturbed spirit hath betrayed itself +Before the act it hides.--But not less hateful +Seems it to me, when one that hath been caught +In wickedness would give it a brave show. + +ANT. Wouldst thou aught more of me than merely death? + +CR. No more. 'Tis all I claim. Death closes all. + +ANT. Why then delay? No talk of thine can charm me, +Forbid it Heaven! And my discourse no less +Must evermore sound noisome to thine ear. +Yet where could I have found a fairer fame +Than giving burial to my own true brother? +All here would tell thee they approve my deed, +Were they not tongue-tied to authority. +But kingship hath much profit; this in chief, +That it may do and say whate'er it will. + +CR. No Theban sees the matter with thine eye. + +ANT. They see, but curb their voices to thy sway + +CR. And art thou not ashamed, acting alone? + +ANT. A sister's piety hath no touch of shame. + +CR. Was not Eteocles thy brother too? + +ANT. My own true brother from both parents' blood. + +CR. This duty was impiety to him. + +ANT. He that is dead will not confirm that word. + +CR. If you impart his honours to the vile. + +ANT. It was his brother, not a slave, who fell. + +CR. But laying waste the land for which he fought. + +ANT. Death knows no difference, but demands his due. + +CR. Yet not equality 'twixt good and bad. + +ANT. Both may be equal yonder; who can tell? + +CR. An enemy is hated even in death. + +ANT. Love, and not hatred, is the part for me. + +CR. Down then to death! and, if you must, there love +The dead. No woman rules me while I live. + +CH. Now comes Ismenè forth. Ah, see, +From clouds above her brow +The sister-loving tear +Is falling wet on her fair cheek, +Distaining all her passion-crimson'd face! + +_Enter_ ISMENE. + +CR. And thou, that like a serpent coiled i' the house +Hast secretly been draining my life-blood,-- +Little aware that I was cherishing +Two curses and subverters of my throne,-- +Tell us, wilt thou avouch thy share in this +Entombment, or forswear all knowledge of it? + +ISM. If her voice go therewith, I did the deed, +And bear my part and burden of the blame. + +ANT. Nay, justice will not suffer that. You would not, +And I refused to make you mine ally. + +ISM. But now in thy misfortune I would fain +Embark with thee in thy calamity. + +ANT. Who did the deed, the powers beneath can tell. +I care not for lip-kindness from my kin. + +ISM. Ah! scorn me not so far as to forbid me +To die with thee, and honour our lost brother. + +ANT. Die not with me, nor make your own a deed +you never touched! My dying is enough. + +ISM. What joy have I in life when thou art gone? + +ANT. Ask Creon there. He hath your care and duty. + +ISM. What can it profit thee to vex me so? + +ANT. My heart is pained, though my lip laughs at thee. + +ISM. What can I do for thee now, even now? + +ANT. Save your own life. I grudge not your escape. + +ISM. Alas! and must I be debarred thy fate? + +ANT. Life was the choice you made. Mine was to die. + +ISM. I warned thee---- + +ANT. Yes, your prudence is admired +On earth. My wisdom is approved below. + +ISM. Yet truly we are both alike in fault. + +ANT. Fear not; you live. My life hath long been given +To death, to be of service to the dead. + +CR. Of these two girls, the one hath lost her wits: +The other hath had none since she was born. + +ISM. My lord, in misery, the mind one hath +Is wont to be dislodged, and will not stay. + +CR. You have ta'en leave of yours at any rate, +When you cast in your portion with the vile. + +ISM. What can life profit me without my sister? + +CR. Say not 'my sister'; she is nothing now. + +ISM. What? wilt thou kill thy son's espousal too? + +CR. He may find other fields to plough upon. + +ISM. Not so as love was plighted 'twixt them twain. + +CR. I hate a wicked consort for my son. + +ANT. O dearest Haemon! how thy father wrongs thee! + +CR. Thou and thy marriage are a torment to me. + +CH. And wilt thou sever her from thine own son? + +CR. 'Tis death must come between him and his joy, + +CH. All doubt is then resolved: the maid must die, + +CR. I am resolved; and so, 'twould seem, are you. +In with her, slaves! No more delay! Henceforth +These maids must have but woman's liberty +And be mewed up; for even the bold will fly +When they see Death nearing the house of life. + [ANTIGONE _and_ ISMENE _are led into the palace._ + +CHORUS. +Blest is the life that never tasted woe. I 1 + When once the blow +Hath fallen upon a house with Heaven-sent doom, +Trouble descends in ever-widening gloom +Through all the number of the tribe to flow; + As when the briny surge + That Thrace-born tempests urge +(The big wave ever gathering more and more) +Runs o'er the darkness of the deep, + And with far-searching sweep +Uprolls the storm-heap'd tangle on the shore, +While cliff to beaten cliff resounds with sullen roar. + +The stock of Cadmus from old time, I know, I 2 + Hath woe on woe, +Age following age, the living on the dead, +Fresh sorrow falling on each new-ris'n head, +None freed by God from ruthless overthrow. + E'en now a smiling light + Was spreading to our sight +O'er one last fibre of a blasted tree,-- +When, lo! the dust of cruel death, + Tribute of Gods beneath, +And wildering thoughts, and fate-born ecstasy, +Quench the brief gleam in dark Nonentity. + +What froward will of man, O Zeus! can check thy might? II 1 +Not all-enfeebling sleep, nor tireless months divine, +Can touch thee, who through ageless time +Rulest mightily Olympus' dazzling height. +This was in the beginning, and shall be + Now and eternally, +Not here or there, but everywhere, +A law of misery that shall not spare. + +For Hope, that wandereth wide, comforting many a head, II 2 +Entangleth many more with glamour of desire: +Unknowing they have trode the fire. +Wise was the famous word of one who said, +'Evil oft seemeth goodness to the mind + An angry God doth blind.' +Few are the days that such as he +May live untroubled of calamity. + +LEADER OF CHORUS. +Lo, Haemon, thy last offspring, now is come, +Lamenting haply for the maiden's doom, +Say, is he mourning o'er her young life lost, +Fiercely indignant for his bridal crossed? + +_Enter_ HAEMON. + +CR. We shall know soon, better than seers could teach us. +Can it be so, my son, that thou art brought +By mad distemperature against thy sire, +On hearing of the irrevocable doom +Passed on thy promised bride? Or is thy love +Thy father's, be his actions what they may? + +HAEMON. I am thine, father, and will follow still +Thy good directions; nor would I prefer +The fairest bride to thy wise government. + +CR. That, O my son! should be thy constant mind, +In all to bend thee to thy father's will. +Therefore men pray to have around their hearths +Obedient offspring, to requite their foes +With harm, and honour whom their father loves; +But he whose issue proves unprofitable, +Begets what else but sorrow to himself +And store of laughter to his enemies? +Make not, my son, a shipwreck of thy wit +For a woman. Thine own heart may teach thee this;-- +There's but cold comfort in a wicked wife +Yoked to the home inseparably. What wound +Can be more deadly than a harmful friend? +Then spurn her like an enemy, and send her +To wed some shadow in the world below! +For since of all the city I have found +Her only recusant, caught in the act, +I will not break my word before the State. +I will take her life. At this let her invoke +The god of kindred blood! For if at home +I foster rebels, how much more abroad? +Whoso is just in ruling his own house, +Lives rightly in the commonwealth no less: +But he that wantonly defies the law, +Or thinks to dictate to authority, +Shall have no praise from me. What power soe'er +The city hath ordained, must be obeyed +In little things and great things, right or wrong. +The man who so obeys, I have good hope +Will govern and be governed as he ought, +And in the storm of battle at my side +Will stand a faithful and a trusty comrade. +But what more fatal than the lapse of rule? +This ruins cities, this lays houses waste, +This joins with the assault of war to break +Full numbered armies into hopeless rout; +And in the unbroken host 'tis nought but rule +That keeps those many bodies from defeat, +I must be zealous to defend the law, +And not go down before a woman's will. +Else, if I fall, 'twere best a man should strike me; +Lest one should say, 'a woman worsted him.' + +CH. Unless our sense is weakened by long time, +Thou speakest not unwisely. + +HAEM. O my sire, +Sound wisdom is a God implanted seed, +Of all possessions highest in regard. +I cannot, and I would not learn to say +That thou art wrong in this; though in another, +It may be such a word were not unmeet. +But as thy son, 'tis surely mine to scan +Men's deeds, and words, and muttered thoughts toward thee. +Fear of thy frown restrains the citizen +In talk that would fall harshly on thine ear. +I under shadow may o'erhear, how all +Thy people mourn this maiden, and complain +That of all women least deservedly +She perishes for a most glorious deed. +'Who, when her own true brother on the earth +Lay weltering after combat in his gore, +Left him not graveless, for the carrion few +And raw devouring field dogs to consume-- +Hath she not merited a golden praise?' +Such the dark rumour spreading silently. +Now, in my valuing, with thy prosperous life, +My father, no possession can compare. +Where can be found a richer ornament +For children, than their father's high renown? +Or where for fathers, than their children's fame? +Nurse not one changeless humour in thy breast, +That nothing can be right but as thou sayest. +Whoe'er presumes that he alone hath sense, +Or peerless eloquence, or reach of soul, +Unwrap him, and you'll find but emptiness. +'Tis no disgrace even to the wise to learn +And lend an ear to reason. You may see +The plant that yields where torrent waters flow +Saves every little twig, when the stout tree +Is torn away and dies. The mariner +Who will not ever slack the sheet that sways +The vessel, but still tightens, oversets, +And so, keel upward, ends his voyaging. +Relent, I pray thee, and give place to change. +If any judgement hath informed my youth, +I grant it noblest to be always wise, +But,--for omniscience is denied to man-- +Tis good to hearken to admonishment. + +CH. My lord, 'twere wise, if thou wouldst learn of him +In reason; and thou, Haemon, from thy sire! +Truth lies between you. + +CR. Shall our age, forsooth, +Be taught discretion by a peevish boy? + +HAEM. Only in what is right. Respects of time +Must be outbalanced by the actual need. + +CR. To cringe to rebels cannot be a need. + +HAEM. I do not claim observance for the vile. + +CR. Why, is not she so tainted? Is 't not proved? + +HAEM. All Thebes denies it. + +CR. Am I ruled by Thebes? + +HAEM. If youth be folly, that is youngly said. + +CR. Shall other men prescribe my government? + +HAEM. One only makes not up a city, father. + +CR. Is not the city in the sovereign's hand? + +HAEM. Nobly you'd govern as the desert's king. + +CR. This youngster is the woman's champion. + +HAEM. You are the woman, then--for you I care. + +CR. Villain, to bandy reasons with your sire! + +HAEM. I plead against the unreason of your fault. + +CR. What fault is there in reverencing my power? + +HAEM. There is no reverence when you spurn the Gods. + +CR. Abominable spirit, woman-led! + +HAEM. You will not find me following a base guide. + +CR. Why, all your speech this day is spent for her. + +HAEM. For you and me too, and the Gods below. + +CR. She will not live to be your wife on earth. + +HAEM. I know, then, whom she will ruin by her death. + +CR. What, wilt thou threaten, too, thou audacious boy? + +HAEM. It is no threat to answer empty words. + +CR. Witless admonisher, thou shalt pay for this! + +HAEM. Thou art my sire, else would I call thee senseless. + +CR. Thou woman's minion! mince not terms with me, + +HAEM. Wouldst thou have all the speaking on thy side? + +CR. Is 't possible? By yon heaven! thou'lt not escape, +For adding contumely to words of blame. +Bring out the hated thing, that she may die +Immediately, before her lover's face! + +HAEM. Nay, dream not she shall suffer in my sight +Nor shalt thou ever see my face again +Let those stay with you that can brook your rage! [_Exit_ + +CH. My lord, he is parted swiftly in deep wrath! +The youthful spirit offended makes wild work. + +CR. Ay, let him do his worst. Let him give scope +To pride beyond the compass of a man! +He shall not free these maidens from their doom. + +CH. Is death thy destination for them both? + +CR. Only for her who acted. Thou art right. + +CH. And what hast thou determined for her death? + +CH. Where human footstep shuns the desert ground, +I'll hide her living in a cave like vault, +With so much provender as may prevent +Pollution from o'ertaking the whole city +And there, perchance, she may obtain of Death, +Her only deity, to spare her soul, +Or else in that last moment she will learn +'Tis labour lost to worship powers unseen. [_Exit_ CREON + +CHORUS +Love, never foiled in fight! 1 +Warrior Love, that on Wealth workest havoc! +Love, who in ambush of young maid's soft cheek +All night keep'st watch!--Thou roamest over seas. +In lonely forest homes thou harbourest. +Who may avoid thee? None! +Mortal, Immortal, +All are o'erthrown by thee, all feel thy frenzy. + +Lightly thou draw'st awry 2 +Righteous minds into wrong to their ruin +Thou this unkindly quarrel hast inflamed +'Tween kindred men--Triumphantly prevails +The heart-compelling eye of winsome bride, +Compeer of mighty Law +Thronèd, commanding. +Madly thou mockest men, dread Aphrodite. + +LEADER OF CHORUS. +Ah! now myself am carried past the bound +Of law, nor can I check the rising tear, +When I behold Antigone even here +Touching the quiet bourne where all must rest. + +_Enter_ ANTIGONE _guarded._ + +ANT. Ye see me on my way, I 1 +O burghers of my father's land! +With one last look on Helios' ray, +Led my last path toward the silent strand. +Alive to the wide house of rest I go; + No dawn for me may shine, +No marriage-blessing e'er be mine, +No hymeneal with my praises flow! +The Lord of Acheron's unlovely shore +Shall be mine only husband evermore. + +CH. Yea, but with glory and fame,-- + Not by award of the sword, + Not with blighting disease, + But by a law of thine own,-- + Thou, of mortals alone, + Goest alive to the deep + Tranquil home of the dead. + +ANT. Erewhile I heard men say, I 2 +How, in far Phrygia, Thebè's friend, +Tantalus' child, had dreariest end +On heights of Sipylus consumed away: +O'er whom the rock like clinging ivy grows, + And while with moistening dew +Her cheek runs down, the eternal snows +Weigh o'er her, and the tearful stream renew +That from sad brows her stone-cold breast doth steep. +Like unto her the God lulls me to sleep. + +CH. But she was a goddess born, + We but of mortal line; + And sure to rival the fate + Of a daughter of sires Divine + Were no light glory in death. + +ANT. O mockery of my woe! II 1 +I pray you by our fathers' holy Fear, + Why must I hear +Your insults, while in life on earth I stand, + O ye that flow +In wealth, rich burghers of my bounteous land? +O fount of Dircè, and thou spacious grove, +Where Thebè's chariots move! +Ye are my witness, though none else be nigh, +By what enormity of lawless doom, + Without one friendly sigh, +I go to the strong mound of yon strange tomb,-- +All hapless, having neither part nor room +With those who live or those who die! + +CH. Thy boldness mounted high, +And thou, my child, 'gainst the great pedestal +Of Justice with unmeasured force didst fall. +Thy father's lot still presseth hard on thee. + +ANT. That pains me more than all. II 2 +Ah! thou hast touched my father's misery + Still mourned anew, +With all the world-famed sorrows on us rolled + Since Cadmus old. +O cursèd marriage that my mother knew! +O wretched fortune of my sire, who lay + Where first he saw the day! +Such were the authors of my burdened life; +To whom, with curses dowered, never a wife, + I go to dwell beneath. +O brother mine, thy princely marriage-tie +Hath been thy downfall, and in this thy death +Thou hast destroyed me ere I die. + +CH. 'Twas pious, we confess, +Thy fervent deed. But he, who power would show, +Must let no soul of all he rules transgress. +A self-willed passion was thine overthrow. + +ANT. Friendless, uncomforted of bridal lay, III +Unmourned, they lead me on my destined way. +Woe for my life forlorn! I may not see +The sacred round of yon great light +Rising again to greet me from the night; +No friend bemoans my fate, no tear hath fallen for me! + +_Enter_ CREON. + +CR. If criminals were suffered to complain +In dirges before death, they ne'er would end. +Away with her at once, and closing her, +As I commanded, in the vaulty tomb, +Leave her all desolate, whether to die, +Or to live on in that sepulchral cell. +We are guiltless in the matter of this maid; +Only she shall not share the light of day. + +ANT. O grave! my bridal chamber, prison-house +Eterne, deep-hollowed, whither I am led +To find mine own,--of whom Persephonè +Hath now a mighty number housed in death:-- +I last of all, and far most miserably, +Am going, ere my days have reached their term! +Yet lives the hope that, when I go, most surely +Dear will my coming be, father, to thee, +And dear to thee, my mother, and to thee, +Brother! since with these very hands I decked +And bathed you after death, and ministered +The last libations. And I reap this doom +For tending, Polynices, on thy corse. +Indeed I honoured thee, the wise will say. +For neither, had I children, nor if one +I had married were laid bleeding on the earth, +Would I have braved the city's will, or taken +This burden on me. Wherefore? I will tell. +A husband lost might be replaced; a son, +If son were lost to me, might yet be born; +But, with both parents hidden in the tomb, +No brother may arise to comfort me. +Therefore above all else I honoured thee, +And therefore Creon thought me criminal, +And bold in wickedness, O brother mine! +And now by servile hands, for all to see, +He hastens me away, unhusbanded, +Before my nuptial, having never known +Or married joy or tender motherhood. +But desolate and friendless I go down +Alive, O horror! to the vaults of the dead. +For what transgression of Heaven's ordinance? +Alas! how can I look to Heaven? on whom +Call to befriend me? seeing that I have earned, +By piety, the meed of impious?-- +Oh! if this act be what the Gods approve, +In death I may repent me of my deed; +But if they sin who judge me, be their doom +No heavier than they wrongly wreak on me! + +CH. With unchanged fury beats the storm of soul +That shakes this maiden. + +CR. Then for that, be sure +Her warders shall lament their tardiness. + +ANT. Alas! I hear Death's footfall in that sound. + +CR. I may not reassure thee.--'Tis most true. + +ANT. O land of Thebè, city of my sires, +Ye too, ancestral Gods! I go--I go! +Even now they lead me to mine end. Behold! +Founders of Thebes, the only scion left +Of Cadmus' issue, how unworthily, +By what mean instruments I am oppressed, +For reverencing the dues of piety. [_Exit guarded_ + +CHORUS. +Even Danaë's beauty left the lightsome day. I 1 +Closed in her strong and brass-bound tower she lay + In tomb-like deep confine. +Yet she was gendered, O my child! + From sires of noblest line, +And treasured for the Highest the golden rain. +Fated misfortune hath a power so fell: + Not wealth, nor warfare wild, +Nor dark spray-dashing coursers of the main +Against great Destiny may once rebel. + +He too in darksome durance was compressed, I 2 +King of Edonians, Dryas' hasty son[5], + In eyeless vault of stone +Immured by Dionysus' hest, + All for a wrathful jest. +Fierce madness issueth in such fatal flower. +He found 'twas mad to taunt the Heavenly Power, + Chilling the Maenad breast +Kindled with Bacchic fire, and with annoy +Angering the Muse that in the flute hath joy. + +And near twin rocks that guard the Colchian sea, II 1 +Bosporian cliffs 'fore Salmydessus rise, +Where neighbouring Ares from his shrine beheld +Phineus' two sons[6] by female fury quelled. +With cursèd wounding of their sight-reft eyes, +That cried to Heaven to 'venge the iniquity. +The shuttle's sharpness in a cruel hand +Dealt the dire blow, not struck with martial brand. + +But chiefly for her piteous lot they pined, II 2 +Who was the source of their rejected birth. +She touched the lineage of Erechtheus old; +Whence in far caves her life did erst unfold, +Cradled 'mid storms, daughter of Northern wind, +Steed-swift o'er all steep places of the earth. +Yet even on her, though reared of heavenly kind, +The long-enduring Fates at last took hold. + +_Enter_ TIRESIAS, _led by a boy._ + +TIRESIAS. We are come, my lords of Thebes, joint wayfarers, +One having eyes for both. The blind must still +Thus move in frail dependence on a guide. + +CR. And what hath brought thee, old Tirésias, now? + +TI. I will instruct thee, if thou wilt hear my voice. + +CR. I have not heretofore rejected thee. + +TI. Therefore thy pilotage hath saved this city. + +CR. Grateful experience owns the benefit. + +TI. Take heed. Again thou art on an edge of peril. + +CR. What is it? How I shudder at thy word! + +TI. The tokens of mine art shall make thee know. +As I was sitting on that ancient seat +Of divination, where I might command +Sure cognisance of every bird of the air, +I heard strange clamouring of fowl, that screeched +In furious dissonance; and, I could tell, +Talons were bloodily engaged--the whirr +Of wings told a clear tale. At once, in fear, +I tried burnt sacrifice at the high altar: +Where from the offering the fire god refused +To gleam; but a dank humour from the bones +Dripped on the embers with a sputtering fume. +The gall was spirited high in air, the thighs +Lay wasting, bared of their enclosing fat. +Such failing tokens of blurred augury +This youth reported, who is guide to me, +As I to others. And this evil state +Is come upon the city from thy will: +Because our altars--yea, our sacred hearths-- +Are everywhere infected from the mouths +Of dogs or beak of vulture that hath fed +On Oedipus' unhappy slaughtered son. +And then at sacrifice the Gods refuse +Our prayers and savour of the thigh-bone fat-- +And of ill presage is the thickening cry +Of bird that battens upon human gore +Now, then, my son, take thought. A man may err; +But he is not insensate or foredoomed +To ruin, who, when he hath lapsed to evil, +Stands not inflexible, but heals the harm. +The obstinate man still earns the name of fool. +Urge not contention with the dead, nor stab +The fallen. What valour is 't to slay the slain? +I have thought well of this, and say it with care; +And careful counsel, that brings gain withal, +Is precious to the understanding soul. + +CR. I am your mark, and ye with one consent +All shoot your shafts at me. Nought left untried, +Not even the craft of prophets, by whose crew +I am bought and merchandised long since. Go on! +Traffic, get gain, electrum from the mine +Of Lydia, and the gold of Ind! Yet know, +Grey-beard! ye ne'er shall hide him in a tomb. +No, not if heaven's own eagle chose to snatch +And bear him to the throne supreme for food, +Even that pollution should not daunt my heart +To yield permission for his funeral. +For well know I defilement ne'er can rise +From man to God. But, old Tirésias, hear! +Even wisest spirits have a shameful fall +That fairly speak base words for love of gain. + +TI. Ah! where is wisdom? who considereth? + +CR. Wherefore? what means this universal doubt? + +TI. How far the best of riches is good counsel! + +CR. As far as folly is the mightiest bane. + +TI. Yet thou art sick of that same pestilence. + +CR. I would not give the prophet blow for blow. + +TI. What blow is harder than to call me false? + +CR. Desire of money is the prophet's plague. + +TI. And ill-sought lucre is the curse of kings. + +CR. Know'st thou 'tis of thy sovereign thou speak'st this? + +TI. Yea, for my aid gives thee to sway this city. + +CR. Far seeing art thou, but dishonest too. + +TI. Thou wilt provoke the utterance of my tongue +To that even thought refused to dwell upon. + +CR. Say on, so thou speak sooth, and not for gain. + +TI. You think me likely to seek gain from you? + +CR. You shall not make your merchandise on me! + +TI. Not many courses of the racing sun +Shalt thou fulfil, ere of thine own true blood +Thou shalt have given a corpse in recompense +For one on earth whom thou hast cast beneath, +Entombing shamefully a living soul, +And one whom thou hast kept above the ground +And disappointed of all obsequies, +Unsanctified and godlessly forlorn. +Such violence the powers beneath will bear +Not even from the Olympian gods. For thee +The avengers wait. Hidden but near at hand, +Lagging but sure, the Furies of the grave +Are watching for thee to thy ruinous harm, +With thine own evil to entangle thee. +Look well to it now whether I speak for gold! +A little while, and thine own palace-halls +Shall flash the truth upon thee with loud noise +Of men and women, shrieking o'er the dead. +And all the cities whose unburied sons, +Mangled and torn, have found a sepulchre +In dogs or jackals or some ravenous bird +That stains their incense with polluted breath, +Are forming leagues in troublous enmity. +Such shafts, since thou hast stung me to the quick, +I like an archer at thee in my wrath +Have loosed unerringly--carrying their pang, +Inevitable, to thy very heart. +Now, sirrah! lead me home, that his hot mood +Be spent on younger objects, till he learn +To keep a safer mind and calmer tongue. [_Exit_ + +CH. Sire, there is terror in that prophecy. +He who is gone, since ever these my locks, +Once black, now white with age, waved o'er my brow, +Hath never spoken falsely to the state. + +CR. I know it, and it shakes me to the core. +To yield is dreadful: but resistingly +To face the blow of fate, is full of dread. + +CH. The time calls loud on wisdom, good my lord. + +CR. What must I do? Advise me. I will obey. + +CH. Go and release the maiden from the vault, +And make a grave for the unburied dead. + +CR. Is that your counsel? Think you I will yield? + +CH. With all the speed thou mayest: swift harms from heaven +With instant doom o'erwhelm the froward man. + +CR. Oh! it is hard. But I am forced to this +Against myself. I cannot fight with Destiny. + +CH. Go now to do it. Trust no second hand. + +CR. Even as I am, I go. Come, come, my people. +Here or not here, with mattocks in your hands +Set forth immediately to yonder hill! +And, since I have ta'en this sudden turn, myself, +Who tied the knot, will hasten to unloose it. +For now the fear comes over me, 'tis best +To pass one's life in the accustomed round. [_Exeunt_ + +CHORUS. +O God of many a name! I 1 +Filling the heart of that Cadmeian bride + With deep delicious pride, +Offspring of him who wields the withering flame! + Thou for Italia's good +Dost care, and 'midst the all-gathering bosom wide[7] + Of Dêo dost preside; +Thou, Bacchus, by Ismenus' winding waters + 'Mongst Thebè's frenzied daughters, +Keep'st haunt, commanding the fierce dragon's brood. + +Thee o'er the forkèd hill I 2 +The pinewood flame beholds, where Bacchai rove, + Nymphs of Corycian grove, +Hard by the flowing of Castalia's rill. + To visit Theban ways, +By bloomy wine-cliffs flushing tender bright + 'Neath far Nyseian height +Thou movest o'er the ivy-mantled mound, + While myriad voices sound +Loud strains of 'Evoe!' to thy deathless praise. + +For Thebè thou dost still uphold, II 1 +First of cities manifold, +Thou and the nymph whom lightning made +Mother of thy radiant head. +Come then with healing for the violent woe +That o'er our peopled land doth largely flow, +Passing the high Parnassian steep +Or moaning narrows of the deep! + +Come, leader of the starry quire II 2 +Quick-panting with their breath of fire! +Lord of high voices of the night, +Child born to him who dwells in light, +Appear with those who, joying in their madness, +Honour the sole dispenser of their gladness, +Thyiads of the Aegean main +Night-long trooping in thy train. + +_Enter_ Messenger. + +MESS. Neighbours of Cadmus and Amphion's halls, +No life of mortal, howsoe'er it stand, +Shall once have praise or censure from my mouth; +Since human happiness and human woe +Come even as fickle Fortune smiles or lours; +And none can augur aught from what we see. +Creon erewhile to me was enviable, +Who saved our Thebè from her enemies; +Then, vested with supreme authority, +Ruled her aright; and flourish'd in his home +With noblest progeny. What hath he now? +Nothing. For when a man is lost to joy, +I count him not to live, but reckon him +A living corse. Riches belike are his, +Great riches and the appearance of a King; +But if no gladness come to him, all else +Is shadow of a vapour, weighed with joy. + +CH. What new affliction heaped on sovereignty +Com'st thou to tell? + +MESS. They are dead; and they that live +Are guilty of the death. + +CH. The slayer, who? +And who the slain? Declare. + +MESS. Haemon is dead, +And by a desperate hand. + +CH. His own, or Creon's? + +MESS. By his own hand, impelled with violent wrath +At Creon for the murder of the maid. + +CH. Ah, Seer! how surely didst thou aim thy word! + +MESS. So stands the matter. Make of it what ye list. + +CH. See, from the palace cometh close to us +Creon's unhappy wife, Eurydicè. +Is it by chance, or heard she of her son? + +_Enter_ EURYDICE. + +EURYDICE. Ye men of Thebes, the tidings met mine ear +As I was coming forth to visit Pallas +With prayerful salutation. I was loosening +The bar of the closed gate, when the sharp sound +Of mine own sorrow smote against my heart, +And I fell back astonied on my maids +And fainted. But the tale? tell me once more; +I am no novice in adversity. + +MESS. Dear lady, I will tell thee what I saw, +And hide no grain of truth: why should I soothe +Thy spirit with soft tales, when the harsh fact +Must prove me a liar? Truth is always best. +I duly led the footsteps of thy lord +To the highest point of the plain, where still was lying, +Forlorn and mangled by the dogs, the corse +Of Polynices. We besought Persephonè +And Pluto gently to restrain their wrath, +And wash'd him pure and clean, and then we burned +The poor remains with brushwood freshly pulled, +And heaped a lofty mound of his own earth +Above him. Then we turned us to the vault, +The maiden's stony bride-chamber of death. +And from afar, round the unhallowed cell, +One heard a voice of wailing loud and long, +And went and told his lord: who coming near +Was haunted by the dim and bitter cry, +And suddenly exclaiming on his fate +Said lamentably, 'My prophetic heart +Divined aright. I am going, of all ways +That e'er I went, the unhappiest to-day. +My son's voice smites me. Go, my men, approach +With speed, and, where the stones are torn away, +Press through the passage to that door of death, +Look hard, and tell me, if I hear aright +The voice of Haemon, or the gods deceive me.' +Thus urged by our despairing lord, we made +Th' espial. And in the farthest nook of the vault +We saw the maiden hanging by the neck +With noose of finest tissue firmly tied, +And clinging to her on his knees the boy, +Lamenting o'er his ruined nuptial-rite, +Consummated in death, his father's crime +And his lost love. And when the father saw him, +With loud and dreadful clamour bursting in +He went to him and called him piteously: +'What deed is this, unhappy youth? What thought +O'ermaster'd thee? Where did the force of woe +O'erturn thy reason? O come forth, my son, +I beg thee!' But with savage eyes the youth +Glared scowling at him, and without a word +Plucked forth his two-edged blade. The father then +Fled and escaped: but the unhappy boy, +Wroth with himself, even where he stood, leant heavily +Upon his sword and plunged it in his side.-- +And while the sense remained, his slackening arm +Enfolded still the maiden, and his breath, +Gaspingly drawn and panted forth with pain, +Cast ruddy drops upon her pallid face; +Then lay in death upon the dead, at last +Joined to his bride in Hades' dismal hall:-- +A monument unto mankind, that rashness +Is the worst evil of this mortal state. [_Exit_ EURYDICE + +CH. What augur ye from this? The queen is gone +Without word spoken either good or bad. + +MESS. I, too, am struck with dread. But hope consoles me, +That having heard the affliction of her son, +Her pride forbids to publish her lament +Before the town, but to her maids within +She will prescribe to mourn the loss of the house. +She is too tried in judgement to do ill. + +CH. I cannot tell. The extreme of silence, too, +Is dangerous, no less than much vain noise. + +MESS. Well, we may learn, if there be aught unseen +Suppressed within her grief-distempered soul, +By going within the palace. Ye say well: +There is a danger, even in too much silence. + +CH. Ah! look where sadly comes our lord the King, +Bearing upon his arm a monument-- +If we may speak it--of no foreign woe, +But of his own infirmity the fruit. + +_Enter_ CREON _with the body of_ HAEMON. + +CR. O error of my insensate soul, I 1 +Stubborn, and deadly in the fateful end! +O ye who now behold +Slayer and slain of the same kindred blood! +O bitter consequence of seeming-wise decree! +Alas, my son! +Strange to the world wert thou, and strange the fate +That took thee off, that slew thee; woe is me! +Not for thy rashness, but my folly. Ah me! + +CH. Alas for him who sees the right too late! + +CR. Alas! +I have learnt it now. But then upon my head +Some God had smitten with dire weight of doom; +And plunged me in a furious course, woe is me! +Discomforting and trampling on my joy. +Woe! for the bitterness of mortal pain! + +_Enter_ 2nd Messenger. + +2ND MESS. My lord and master. Thou art master here +Of nought but sorrows. One within thine arms +Thou bear'st with thee, and in thy palace hall +Thou hast possession of another grief, +Which soon thou shalt behold. + +CR. What more of woe, +Or what more woeful, sounds anew from thee? + +2ND MESS. The honoured mother of that corse, thy queen, +Is dead, and bleeding with a new-given wound. + +CR. O horrible! O charnel gulf I 2 +Of death on death, not to be done away, +Why harrowest thou my soul? +Ill boding harbinger of woe, what word +Have thy lips uttered? Oh, thou hast killed me again, +Before undone! +What say'st? What were thy tidings? Woe is me! +Saidst thou a slaughtered queen in yonder hall +Lay in her blood, crowning the pile of ruin? + +CH. No longer hidden in the house. Behold! + [_The Corpse of_ EURYDICE _is disclosed_ + +CR. Alas! +Again I see a new, a second woe. +What more calamitous stroke of Destiny +Awaits me still? But now mine arms enfold +My child, and lo! yon corse before my face! +Ah! hapless, hapless mother, hapless son! + +2ND MESS. She with keen knife before the altar place[8] +Closed her dark orbs; but first lamented loud +The glorious bed of buried Megareus[9], +And then of Haemon; lastly clamoured forth +The curse of murdered offspring upon thee. + +CR. Ay me! Ay me! II 1 +I am rapt with terror. Is there none to strike me +With doubly sharpened blade a mortal blow? +Ah! I am plunged in fathomless distress. + +2ND MESS. The guilt of this and of the former grief +By this dead lady was denounced on thee. + +CR. Tell us, how ended she her life in blood? + +2ND MESS. Wounding herself to the heart, when she had heard +The loud lamented death of Haemon here. + +CR. O me! This crime can come +On no man else, exempting me. +I slew thee--I, O misery! +I say the truth, 'twas I! My followers, +Take me with speed--take me away, away! +Me, who am nothing now. + +CH. Thou sayest the best, if there be best in woe. +Briefest is happiest in calamity. + +CR. Ah! let it come, II 2 +The day, most welcome of all days to me, +That brings the consummation of my doom. +Come! Come! I would not see another sun. + +CH. Time will determine that. We must attend +To present needs. Fate works her own dread work. + +CR. All my desire was gathered in my prayer. + +CH. But prayer is bootless. For to mortal men +There is no saviour from appointed woe. + +CR. Take me away, the vain-proud man that slew +Thee, O my son! unwittingly,--and thee! +Me miserable, which way shall I turn, +Which look upon? Since all that I can touch +Is falling,--falling,--round me, and o'erhead +Intolerable destiny descends. + +LEADER OF CHORUS. +Wise conduct hath command of happiness +Before all else, and piety to Heaven +Must be preserved. High boastings of the proud +Bring sorrow to the height to punish pride:-- +A lesson men shall learn when they are old. + + * * * * * + + + + + AIAS + + + THE PERSONS + +ATHENA. +ODYSSEUS. +AIAS, _the son of Telamon._ +CHORUS _of Salaminian Mariners._ +TECMESSA. +_A Messenger._ +TEUCER, _half brother of Aias._ +MENELAUS. +AGAMEMNON. + +EURYSAKÈS, _the child of Aias and Tecmessa, appears, but does not +speak._ + + +SCENE. Before the encampment of Aias on the shore of the Troad. +Afterwards a lonely place beyond Rhoeteum. + +Time, towards the end of the Trojan War. + + + + + _'A wounded spirit who can bear?'_ + +After the death of Achilles, the armour made for him by Hephaestus was +to be given to the worthiest of the surviving Greeks. Although Aias +was the most valiant, the judges made the award to Odysseus, because +he was the wisest. + +Aias in his rage attempts to kill the generals; but Athena sends +madness upon him, and he makes a raid upon the flocks and herds of the +army, imagining the bulls and rams to be the Argive chiefs. On +awakening from his delusion, he finds that he has fallen irrecoverably +from honour and from the favour of the Greeks. He also imagines that +the anger of Athena is unappeasable. Under this impression he eludes +the loving eyes of his captive-bride Tecmessa, and of his Salaminian +comrades, and falls on his sword. ('The soul and body rive not more in +parting Than greatness going off.') + +But it is revealed through the prophet Calchas, that the wrath of +Athena will last only for a day; and on the return of Teucer, Aias +receives an honoured funeral, the tyrannical reclamations of the two +sons of Atreus being overcome by the firm fidelity of Teucer and the +magnanimity of Odysseus, who has been inspired for this purpose by +Athena. + + + + + AIAS + + +ATHENA (_above_). ODYSSEUS. + +ATHENA. Oft have I seen thee, Laërtiades, +Intent on some surprisal of thy foes; +As now I find thee by the seaward camp, +Where Aias holds the last place in your line, +Lingering in quest, and scanning the fresh print +Of his late footsteps, to be certified +If he keep house or no. Right well thy sense +Hath led thee forth, like some keen hound of Sparta! +The man is even but now come home, his head +And slaughterous hands reeking with ardent toil. +Thou, then, no longer strain thy gaze within +Yon gateway, but declare what eager chase +Thou followest, that a god may give thee light. + +ODYSSEUS. Athena, 'tis thy voice! Dearest in heaven, +How well discerned and welcome to my soul +From that dim distance doth thine utterance fly +In tones as of Tyrrhenian trumpet clang! +Rightly hast thou divined mine errand here, +Beating this ground for Aias of the shield, +The lion-quarry whom I track to day. +For he hath wrought on us to night a deed +Past thought--if he be doer of this thing; +We drift in ignorant doubt, unsatisfied-- +And I unbidden have bound me to this toil. + + Brief time hath flown since suddenly we knew +That all our gathered spoil was reaved and slaughtered, +Flocks, herds, and herdmen, by some human hand, +All tongues, then, lay this deed at Aias' door. +And one, a scout who had marked him, all alone, +With new-fleshed weapon bounding o'er the plain, +Gave me to know it, when immediately +I darted on the trail, and here in part +I find some trace to guide me, but in part +I halt, amazed, and know not where to look. +Thou com'st full timely. For my venturous course, +Past or to come, is governed by thy will. + +ATH. I knew thy doubts, Odysseus, and came forth +Zealous to guard thy perilous hunting-path. + +OD. Dear Queen! and am I labouring to an end? + +ATH. Thou schem'st not idly. This is Aias' deed. + +OD. What can have roused him to a work so wild? + +ATH. His grievous anger for Achilles' arms. + +OD. But wherefore on the flock this violent raid? + +ATH. He thought to imbrue his hands with your heart's blood. + +OD. What? Was this planned against the Argives, then? + +ATH. Planned, and performed, had I kept careless guard. + +OD. What daring spirit, what hardihood, was here! + +ATH. Alone by night in craft he sought your tents. + +OD. How? Came he near them? Won he to his goal? + +ATH. He stood in darkness at the generals' gates. + +OD. What then restrained his eager hand from murder? + +ATH. I turned him backward from his baleful joy, +And overswayed him with blind phantasies, +To swerve against the flocks and well-watched herd +Not yet divided from the public booty. +There plunging in he hewed the horned throng, +And with him Havoc ranged: while now he thought +To kill the Atreidae with hot hand, now this +Now that commander, as the fancy grew. +I, joining with the tumult of his mind, +Flung the wild victim on the fatal net. +Anon, this toil being overpast, he draws +The living oxen and the panting sheep +With cords to his home, not as a hornèd prey, +But as in triumph marshalling his foes: +Whom now he tortures in their bonds within. + Come, thou shalt see this madness in clear day, +And tell to the Argives all I show thee here +Only stand firm and shrink not, I will turn +His eyes askance, not to distinguish thee, +Fear nought--Ho! thou that bindest to thy will +The limbs of those thy captives, come thou forth! +Aias! advance before thy palace gate! + +OD. My Queen! what dost thou? Never call him forth. + +ATH. Hush, hush! Be not so timorous, but endure. + +OD. Nay, nay! Enough. He is there, and let him bide. + +ATH. What fear you? Dates his valour from to day? + +OD. He was and is my valiant enemy. + +ATH. Then is not laughter sweetest o'er a foe? + +OD. No more! I care not he should pass abroad. + +ATH. You flinch from seeing the madman in full view. + +OD. When sane, I ne'er had flinched before his face. + +ATH. Well, but even now he shall not know thee near. + +OD. How, if his eyes be not transformed or lost? + +ATH. I will confound his sense although he see. + +OD. Well, nothing is too hard for Deity. + +ATH. Stand still and keep thy place without a word. + +OD. I must. Would I were far away from here! + +ATH. Aias! Again I summon thee. Why pay +So scanty heed to her who fights for thee? + +_Enter_ AIAS _with a bloody scourge._ + +AIAS. Hail, offspring of the Highest! Pallas, hail! +Well hast thou stood by me. Triumphal gold +Shall crown thy temple for this lordly prey. + +ATH. A fair intention! But resolve me this: +Hast dyed thy falchion deep in Argive blood? + +AI. There is my boast; that charge I'll ne'er deny. + +ATH. Have Atreus' sons felt thy victorious might? + +AI. They have. No more they'll make a scorn of me! + +ATH. I take it, then, they are dead. + +AI. Ay, now they are dead, +Let them arise and rob me of mine arms! + +ATH. Good. Next inform us of Laërtes' son; +How stands his fortune? Hast thou let him go? + +AI. The accursed fox! Dost thou inquire of him? + +ATH. Ay, of Odysseus, thy late adversary. + +AI. He sits within, dear lady, to my joy, +Bound; for I mean him not just yet to die. + +ATH. What fine advantage wouldst thou first achieve? + +AI. First, tie him to a pillar of my hall-- + +ATH. Poor wretch! What torment wilt thou wreak on him? + +AI. Then stain his back with scourging till he die. + +ATH. Nay, 'tis too much. Poor caitiff! Not the scourge! + +AI. Pallas, in all things else have thou thy will, +But none shall wrest Odysseus from this doom. + +ATH. Well, since thou art determined on the deed, +Spare nought of thine intent: indulge thy hand! + +AI. (_waving the bloody scourge_). +I go! But thou, I charge thee, let thine aid +Be evermore like valiant as to-day. [_Exit_ + +ATH. The gods are strong, Odysseus. Dost thou see? +What man than Aias was more provident, +Or who for timeliest action more approved? + +OD. I know of none. But, though he hates me sore, +I pity him, poor mortal, thus chained fast +To a wild and cruel fate,--weighing not so much +His fortune as mine own. For now I feel +All we who live are but an empty show +And idle pageant of a shadowy dream. + +ATH. Then, warned by what thou seest, be thou not rash +To vaunt high words toward Heaven, nor swell thy port +Too proudly, if in puissance of thy hand +Thou passest others, or in mines of wealth. +Since Time abases and uplifts again +All that is human, and the modest heart +Is loved by Heaven, who hates the intemperate will. [_Exeunt_ + +CHORUS (_entering_). + Telamonian child, whose hand + Guards our wave-encircled land, + Salamis that breasts the sea, + Good of thine is joy to me; + But if One who reigns above + Smite thee, or if murmurs move + From fierce Danaäns in their hate + Full of threatening to thy state, + All my heart for fear doth sigh, + Shrinking like a dove's soft eye. + + Hardly had the darkness waned, [_Half-Chorus I._ + When our ears were filled and pained + With huge scandal on thy fame. + Telling, thine the arm that came + To the cattle-browsèd mead, + Wild with prancing of the steed, + And that ravaged there and slew + With a sword of fiery hue + All the spoils that yet remain, + By the sweat of spearmen ta'en. + + Such report against thy life, [_Half-Chorus II._ + Whispered words with falsehood rife, + Wise Odysseus bringing near + Shrewdly gaineth many an ear: + Since invention against thee + Findeth hearing speedily, + Tallying with the moment's birth; + And with loudly waxing mirth + Heaping insult on thy grief, + Each who hears it glories more + Than the tongue that told before. + Every slander wins belief + Aimed at souls whose worth is chief: + Shot at me, or one so small, + Such a bolt might harmless fall. + Ever toward the great and high + Creepeth climbing jealousy + Yet the low without the tall + Make at need a tottering wall + Let the strong the feeble save + And the mean support the brave. + +CHORUS + Ah! 'twere vain to tune such song + 'Mid the nought discerning throng + Who are clamouring now 'gainst thee + Long and loud, and strengthless we, + Mighty chieftain, thou away, + To withstand the gathering fray + Flocking fowl with carping cry + Seem they, lurking from thine eye, + Till the royal eagle's poise + Overawe the paltry noise + Till before thy presence hushed + Sudden sink they, mute and crushed. + +Did bull slaying Artemis, Zeus' cruel daughter I 1 + (Ah, fearful rumour, fountain of my shame!) +Prompt thy fond heart to this disastrous slaughter + Of the full herd stored in our army's name! +Say, had her blood stained temple[1] missed the kindness + Of some vow promised fruit of victory, +Foiled of some glorious armour through thy blindness, + Or fell some stag ungraced by gift from thee? +Or did stern Ares venge his thankless spear +Through this night foray that hath cost thee dear! + +For never, if thy heart were not distracted I 2 + By stings from Heaven, O child of Telamon, +Wouldst thou have bounded leftward, to have acted + Thus wildly, spoiling all our host hath won! +Madness might fall some heavenly power forfend it + But if Odysseus and the tyrant lords +Suggest a forged tale, O rise to end it, + Nor fan the fierce flame of their withering words! +Forth from thy tent, and let thine eye confound +The brood of Sisyphus[2] that would thee wound! + +Too long hast thou been fixed in grim repose, III + Heightening the haughty malice of thy foes, +That, while thou porest by the sullen sea, + Through breezy glades advanceth fearlessly, +A mounting blaze with crackling laughter fed +From myriad throats; whence pain and sorrow bred +Within my bosom are establishèd. + +_Enter_ TECMESSA. + +TECMESSA. Helpers of Aias' vessel's speed, +Erechtheus' earth-derivèd seed, +Sorrows are ours who truly care +For the house of Telamon afar. +The dread, the grand, the rugged form + Of him we know, +Is stricken with a troublous storm; + Our Aias' glory droopeth low. + +CHORUS. What burden through the darkness fell +Where still at eventide 'twas well? +Phrygian Teleutas' daughter, say; +Since Aias, foremost in the fray, +Disdaining not the spear-won bride, +Still holds thee nearest at his side, +And thou may'st solve our doubts aright. + +TEC. How shall I speak the dreadful word? +How shall ye live when ye have heard? +Madness hath seized our lord by night +And blasted him with hopeless blight. +Such horrid victims mightst thou see +Huddled beneath yon canopy, +Torn by red hands and dyed in blood, +Dread offerings to his direful mood. + +CH. What news of our fierce lord thy story showeth, 1 + Sharp to endure, impossible to fly! +News that on tongues of Danaäns hourly groweth, + Which Rumour's myriad voices multiply! +Alas! the approaching doom awakes my terror. + The man will die, disgraced in open day, +Whose dark dyed steel hath dared through mad brained error + The mounted herdmen with their herds to slay. + +TEC. O horror! Then 'twas there he found + The flock he brought as captives tied, + And some he slew upon the ground, + And some, side smiting, sundered wide + Two white foot rams he backward drew, + And bound. Of one he shore and threw + The tipmost tongue and head away, + The other to an upright stay + He tied, and with a harness thong + Doubled in hand, gave whizzing blows, + Echoing his lashes with a song + More dire than mortal fury knows. + +CH. Ah! then 'tis time, our heads in mantles hiding, 2 + Our feet on some stol'n pathway now to ply, +Or with swift oarage o'er the billows gliding, + With ordered stroke to make the good ship fly +Such threats the Atridae, armed with two fold power, + Launch to assail us. Oh, I sadly fear +Stones from fierce hands on us and him will shower, + Whose heavy plight no comfort may come near. + +TEC. 'Tis changed, his rage, like sudden blast, + Without the lightning gleam is past + And now that Reason's light returns, + New sorrow in his spirit burns. + For when we look on self made woe, + In which no hand but ours had part, + Thought of such griefs and whence they flow + Brings aching misery to the heart. + +CH. If he hath ceased to rave, he should do well +The account of evil lessens when 'tis past. + +TEC. If choice were given you, would you rather choose +Hurting your friends, yourself to feel delight, +Or share with them in one commingled pain? + +CH. The two fold trouble is more terrible. + +TEC. Then comes our torment now the fit is o'er. + +CH. How mean'st thou by that word? I fail to see. + +TEC. He in his rage had rapture of delight +And knew not how he grieved us who stood near +And saw the madding tempest ruining him. +But now 'tis over and he breathes anew, +The counterblast of sorrow shakes his soul, +Whilst our affliction vexeth as before, +Have we not double for our single woe? + +CH. I feel thy reasoning move me, and I fear +Some heavenly stroke hath fallen. How else, when the end +Of stormy sickness brings no cheering ray? + +TEC. Our state is certain. Dream not but 'tis so. + +CH. How first began the assault of misery? +Tell us the trouble, for we share the pain. + +TEC. It toucheth you indeed, and ye shall hear +All from the first. 'Twas midnight, and the lamp +Of eve had died, when, seizing his sharp blade, +He sought on some vain errand to creep forth. +I broke in with my word: 'Aias, what now? +Why thus uncalled for salliest thou? No voice +Of herald summoned thee. No trumpet blew. +What wouldst thou when the camp is hushed in sleep?' +He with few words well known to women's ears +Checked me: 'The silent partner is the best.' +I saw how 'twas and ceased. Forth then he fared +Alone--What horror passed upon the plain +This night, I know not. But he drags within, +Tied in a throng, bulls, shepherd dogs, and spoil +Of cattle and sheep. Anon he butchers them, +Felling or piercing, hacking or tearing wide, +Ribs from breast, limb from limb. Others in rage +He seized and bound and tortured, brutes for men. +Last, out he rushed before the doors, and there +Whirled forth wild language to some shadowy form, +Flouting the generals and Laërtes' son +With torrent laughter and loud triumphing +What in his raid he had wreaked to their despite. +Then diving back within--the fitful storm +Slowly assuaging left his spirit clear. +And when his eye had lightened through the room +Cumbered with ruin, smiting on his brow +He roared; and, tumbling down amid the wreck +Of woolly carnage he himself had made, +Sate with clenched hand tight twisted in his hair. +Long stayed he so in silence. Then flashed forth +Those frightful words of threatening vehemence, +That bade me show him all the night's mishap, +And whither he was fallen I, dear my friends, +Prevailed on through my fear, told all I knew. +And all at once he raised a bitter cry, +Which heretofore I ne'er had heard, for still +He made us think such doleful utterance +Betokened the dull craven spirit, and still +Dumb to shrill wailings, he would only moan +With half heard muttering, like an angry bull. +But now, by such dark fortune overpowered, +Foodless and dry, amid the quivering heap +His steel hath quelled, all quietly he broods; +And out of doubt his mind intends some harm: +Such words, such groans, burst from him. O my friends.-- +Therefore I hastened,--enter and give aid +If aught ye can! Men thus forgone will oft +Grow milder through the counsel of a friend. + +CH. Teleutas' child! we shudder at thy tale +That fatal frenzy wastes our hero's soul. + +AIAS (_within_). Woe's me, me, me! + +TEC. More cause anon! Hear ye not Aias there, +How sharp the cry that shrills from him? + +AI. Woe! Woe! + +CH. Madly it sounds--Or springs it of deep grief +For proofs of madness harrowing to his eye? + +AI. Boy, boy! + +TEC. What means he? Oh, Eurysakes! +He cries on thee. Where art thou? O my heart! + +AI. Teucer I call! Where 's Teucer? Will he ne'er +Come from the chase, but leave me to my doom? + +CH. Not madness now. Disclose him. Let us look. +Haply the sight of us may calm his soul. + +TEC. There, then; I open to your view the form +Of Aias, and his fortunes as they are. [AIAS _is discovered_ + +AI. Dear comrades of the deep, whose truth and love I 1 + Stand forth alone unbroken in my woe, + Behold what gory sea + Of storm-lashed agony + Doth round and round me flow! + +CH. (_to_ TEC.) Too true thy witness: for the fact cries out +Wild thoughts were here and Reason's lamp extinct. + +AI. Strong helpers of sea-speed, whose nimble hand I 2 + Plied hither the salt oar with circling stroke, + No shepherd there was found + To give the avenging wound. + Come, lay me with the flock! + +CH. Speak no rash word! nor curing ill with ill +Augment the plague of this calamity. + +AI. Mark ye the brave and bold, II 1 + Whom none could turn of old, + When once he set his face to the fierce fight? + Now beasts that thought no harm + Have felt this puissant arm. + O laughter of my foes! O mockery of my might! + +TEC. Aias, my lord! I entreat thee, speak not so! + +AI. Thou here! Away! begone, and trouble me not! +O! O! + +CH. Be softened! bear a steadier mind! + +AI. O heaven-accursèd hand + That let the ruffians go, + But falling 'midst the horn'd and bleating band, + Made darkling blood-streams flow! + +CH. Why vex thy heart with what is over and done? +Do what we may, this ne'er will alter now. + +AI. Child of Laërtes old, II 2 + Thou that dost still behold + And still contrive all shapes of monstrous ill, + Winding in foulest ways + Through the army's sinful maze,-- + Now even for pleasure thou may'st laugh thy fill. + +CH. Laughter and tears are in the gift of God. + +AI. Ay, might I see him, though thus broken,--ay me! +Even yet-- + +CH. Nay, vaunt not. Look where thou art fallen. + +AI. Source where my life-blood springs, + O Zeus, might I but slay + That crafty plague, with those twin-sceptred kings, + Then breathe my life away! + +TEC. Pray thus, and pray that I too be no more! +If thou wert gone, what were my life to me? + +AI. Darkness! my only light! III 1 + O nether gloom, to me + Brighter than morning to the wakeful eye! + Take me to dwell with thee. + Take me! What help? Zeus' daughter with fell might + Torments me sore. I may not look on high, + Nor to the tribe of momentary men.-- + Oh, whither, then, + Should it avail to fly? + Ah! whither should I go and stay? + All here is ruin. This mad prey + Shames me for evermore: + Vengeance is at the door; + Yea, all the Achaean host, with armèd hand, + Is ready at command + To slay me o'er and o'er. + +TEC. Woe 's me! to hear from one so good and true +Words he had scorned to utter in past days. + +AI. Grey firths of foaming brine, III 2 +And ye, deep groves, that crown +The sea-caves and long cliffs upon the shore, +Too long did ye confine +My life about the walls of Troia's town: +But no more now! a breathing man, no more! +The wise in heart may duly learn that lore. +Let Xanthus know, +Whose waters neighbouring flow, +And minister to Argive men: +One man he ne'er shall see again; +One, I will vaunt it forth! +Highest in warlike worth +Of all Greek forms that Troia's towers have eyed: +Now, shorn of all that pride, +I lie thus low. + +CH. I know not how to let thee speak, nor how +To silence thee. Such evils close thee round. + +AI. Ay me! + Could human thought have prophesied +My name would thus give echo to mine ill? +'Ai' now for Aias, doubly, trebly said, +Sorts all too well to mark my misery; +Whose father from this land of Troy, as noblest +Of all the host, carrying the fairest prize, +Came girt about with glory to his home. +But I his son, not less of might than he, +Nor poorer in the achievements of my hand, +To this same region following in my prime, +Am scouted by the Achaeans and destroyed. +Yet know I one thing well. Had Peleus' child, +Living, adjudged his armour as a meed +Of well-tried bravery, no grasp save mine +Had clutched it. But the Atridae with mean craft +Conveyed his heirloom to a wit-proud knave, +Whilst Aias' peerless prowess was despised. +And had not this mine eye and mind distraught +Glanced from my purpose, ne'er again had they +Perverted judgement. But the invincible +Stern daughter of the Highest, with baneful eye, +Even as mine arm descended, baffled me, +And hurled upon my soul a frenzied plague, +To stain my hand with these dumb victims' blood. +And those mine enemies exult in safety,-- +Not with my will; but where a God misguides, +Strong arms are thwarted and the weakling lives. + Now, what remains? Heaven hates me, 'tis too clear: +The Grecian host abhor me: Troy, with all +This country round our camp, is my sworn foe. +Shall I, across the Aegean sailing home, +Leave these Atridae and their fleet forlorn? +How shall I dare to front my father's eye? +How will he once endure to look on me, +Denuded of the prize of high renown, +Whose coronal stood sparkling on his brow? +No! 'twere too dreadful. Then shall I advance +Before the Trojan battlements, and there +In single conflict doing valiantly +Last die upon their spears? Nay, for by this +I might perchance make Atreus' offspring glad. +That may not be imagined. I must find +Some act to let my grey-haired father feel +No heartless recreant once called him sire. +Shame on the wight who when beset with ill +Cares to live on in misery unrelieved. +Can hour outlasting hour make less or more +Of death? Whereby then can it furnish joy? +That mortal weighs for nothing-worth with me, +Whom Hope can comfort with her fruitless fire. +Honour in life or honour in the grave +Befits the noble heart. You hear my will. + +CH. From thine own spirit, Aias, all may tell, +That utterance came, and none have prompted thee. +Yet stay thy hurrying thought, and by thy friends +Be ruled to loose this burden from thy mind. + +TEC. O my great master! heaviest of all woe +Is theirs whose life is crushed beyond recall. +I, born of one the mightiest of the free +And wealthiest in the Phrygian land, am now +A captive. So Heaven willed, and thy strong arm +Determined. Therefore, since the hour that made +My being one with thine, I breathe for thee; +And I beseech thee by the sacred fire +Of home, and by the sweetness of the night +When from thy captive I became thy bride, +Leave me not guardless to the unworthy touch +And cruel taunting of thine enemies' +For, shouldst thou die and leave us, then shall I +Borne off by Argive violence with thy boy +Eat from that day the bread of slavery. +And some one of our lords shall smite me there +With galling speech: Behold the concubine +Of Aias, first of all the Greeks for might, +How envied once, worn with what service now! +So will they speak; and while my quailing heart +Shall sink beneath its burden, clouds of shame +Will dim thy glory and degrade thy race. +Oh! think but of thy father, left to pine +In doleful age, and let thy mother's grief-- +Who, long bowed down with many a careful year, +Prays oftentimes thou may'st return alive-- +O'er awe thee. Yea, and pity thine own son, +Unsheltered in his boyhood, lorn of thee, +With bitter foes to tend his orphanhood, +Think, O my lord, what sorrow in thy death +Thou send'st on him and me. For I have nought +To lean to but thy life. My fatherland +Thy spear hath ruined. Fate--not thou--hath sent +My sire and mother to the home of death +What wealth have I to comfort me for thee? +What land of refuge? Thou art all my stay +Oh, of me too take thought! Shall men have joy, +And not remember? Or shall kindness fade? +Say, can the mind be noble, where the stream +Of gratitude is withered from the spring? + +CH. Aias, I would thy heart were touched like mine +With pity; then her words would win thy praise. + +AI. My praise she shall not miss, if she perform +My bidding with firm heart, and fail not here. + +TEC. Dear Aias, I will fail in nought thou bidst me. + +AI. Bring me my boy, that I may see his face. + +TEC. Oh, in my terror I conveyed him hence! + +AI. Clear of this mischief, mean'st thou? or for what? + +TEC. Lest he might run to thee, poor child, and die. + +AI. That issue had been worthy of my fate! + +TEC. But I kept watch to fence his life from harm. + +AI. 'Twas wisely done. I praise thy foresight there. + +TEC. Well, since 'tis so, how can I help thee now? + +AI. Give me to speak to him and see him near. + +TEC. He stands close by with servants tending him. + +AI. Then why doth he not come, but still delay? + +TEC. Thy father calls thee, child. Come, lead him hither, +Whichever of you holds him by the hand. + +AI. Moves he? or do thine accents idly fall? + +TEC. See, where thy people bring him to thine eye. + +AI. Lift him to me: lift him! He will not fear +At sight of this fresh havoc of the sword, +If rightly he be fathered of my blood. +Like some young colt he must be trained and taught +To run fierce courses with his warrior sire. +Be luckier than thy father, boy! but else +Be like him, and thy life will not be low. +One thing even now I envy thee, that none +Of all this misery pierces to thy mind. +For life is sweetest in the void of sense, +Ere thou know joy or sorrow. But when this +Hath found thee, make thy father's enemies +Feel the great parent in the valiant child. +Meantime grow on in tender youthfulness, +Nursed by light breezes, gladdening this thy mother. +No Greek shall trample thee with brutal harm, +That I know well, though I shall not be near-- +So stout a warder to protect thy life +I leave in Teucer. He'll not fail, though now +He follow far the chase upon his foes. +My trusty warriors, people of the sea, +Be this your charge, no less,--and bear to him +My clear commandment, that he take this boy +Home to my fatherland, and make him known +To Telamon, and Eriboea too, +My mother. Let him tend them in their age. +And, for mine armour, let not that be made +The award of Grecian umpires or of him +Who ruined me. But thou, named of the shield[3], +Eurysakes, hold mine, the unpierceable +Seven-hided buckler, and by the well stitched thong +Grasp firm and wield it mightily.--The rest +Shall lie where I am buried.--Take him now, +Quickly, and close the door. No tears! What! weep +Before the tent? How women crave for pity! +Make fast, I say. No wise physician dreams +With droning charms to salve a desperate sore. + +CH. There sounds a vehement ardour in thy words +That likes me not. I fear thy sharpened tongue. + +TEC. Aias, my lord, what act is in thy mind? + +AI. Inquire not, question not; be wise, thou'rt best. + +TEC. How my heart sinks! Oh, by thy child, by Heaven, +I pray thee on my knees, forsake us not! + +AI. Thou troublest me. What! know'st thou not that Heaven +Hath ceased to be my debtor from to-day? + +TEC. Hush! Speak not so. + +AI. Speak thou to those that hear. + +TEC. Will you not hear me? + +AI. Canst thou not be still? + +TEC. My fears, my fears! + +AI. (_to the_ Attendants). Come, shut me in, I say. + +TEC. Oh, yet be softened! + +AI. 'Tis a foolish hope, +If thou deem'st now to mould me to thy will. + [Aias _is withdrawn. Exit_ Tecmessa + +CHORUS. +Island of glory! whom the glowing eyes I 1 +Of all the wondering world immortalize, +Thou, Salamis, art planted evermore, +Happy amid the wandering billows' roar; +While I--ah, woe the while!--this weary time, + By the green wold where flocks from Ida stray, +Lie worn with fruitless hours of wasted prime, + Hoping--ah, cheerless hope!--to win my way +Where Hades' horrid gloom shall hide me from the day. + +Aias is with me, yea, but crouching low, I 2 +Where Heaven-sent madness haunts his overthrow, +Beyond my cure or tendance: woful plight! +Whom thou, erewhile, to head the impetuous fight, +Sent'st forth, thy conquering champion. Now he feeds + His spirit on lone paths, and on us brings +Deep sorrow; and all his former peerless deeds +Of prowess fall like unremembered things +From Atreus' loveless brood, this caitiff brace of kings. + +Ah! when his mother, full of days and bowed II 1 +With hoary eld, shall hear his ruined mind, + How will she mourn aloud! +Not like the warbler of the dale, + The bird of piteous wail, +But in shrill strains far borne upon the wind, +While on the withered breast and thin white hair +Falls the resounding blow, the rending of despair. + +Best hid in death were he whom madness drives II 2 +Remediless; if, through his father's race + Born to the noblest place +Among the war-worn Greeks, he lives + By his own light no more, +Self-aliened from the self he knew before. +Oh, hapless sire, what woe thine ear shall wound! +One that of all thy line no life save this hath found. + +_Enter_ Aias _with a bright sword, and_ Tecmessa, _severally._ + +AI. What change will never-terminable Time +Not heave to light, what hide not from the day? +What chance shall win men's marvel? Mightiest oaths +Fall frustrate, and the steely-tempered will. +Ay, and even mine, that stood so diamond-keen +Like iron lately dipped, droops now dis-edged +And weakened by this woman, whom to leave +A widow with her orphan to my foes, +Dulls me with pity. I will go to the baths +And meadows near the cliff, and purging there +My dark pollution, I will screen my soul +From reach of Pallas' grievous wrath. I will find +Same place untrodden, and digging of the soil +Where none shall see, will bury this my sword, +Weapon of hate! for Death and Night to hold +Evermore underground. For, since my hand +Had this from Hector mine arch-enemy, +No kindness have I known from Argive men. +So true that saying of the bygone world, +'A foe's gift is no gift, and brings no good.' + Well, we will learn of Time. Henceforth I'll bow +To heavenly ordinance and give homage due +To Atreus' sons. Who rules, must be obeyed. +Since nought so fierce and terrible but yields +Place to Authority. Wild Winter's snows +Make way for bounteous Summer's flowery tread, +And Night's sad orb retires for lightsome Day +With his white steeds to illumine the glad sky. +The furious storm-blast leaves the groaning sea +Gently to rest. Yea, the all-subduer Sleep +Frees whom he binds, nor holds enchained for aye. +And shall not men be taught the temperate will? +Yea, for I now know surely that my foe +Must be so hated, as being like enough +To prove a friend hereafter, and my friend +So far shall have mine aid, as one whose love +Will not continue ever. Men have found +But treacherous harbour in companionship. + Our ending, then, is peaceful. Thou, my girl, +Go in and pray the Gods my heart's desire +Be all fulfilled. My comrades, join her here, +Honouring my wishes; and if Teucer come, +Bid him toward us be mindful, kind toward you. +I must go--whither I must go. Do ye +But keep my word, and ye may learn, though now +Be my dark hour, that all with me is well. + [_Exit towards the country._ Tecmessa _retires_ + +CHORUS. +A shudder of love thrills through me. Joy! I soar 1 + O Pan, wild Pan! [_They dance_ + Come from Cyllenè hoar-- +Come from the snow drift, the rock-ridge, the glen! + Leaving the mountain bare + Fleet through the salt sea-air, +Mover of dances to Gods and to men. +Whirl me in Cnossian ways--thrid me the Nysian maze! +Come, while the joy of the dance is my care! + Thou too, Apollo, come + Bright from thy Delian home, + Bringer of day, + Fly o'er the southward main + Here in our hearts to reign, +Loved to repose there and kindly to stay. + +Horror is past. Our eyes have rest from pain. 2 + O Lord of Heaven! [_They dance_ + Now blithesome day again +Purely may smile on our swift-sailing fleet, + Since, all his woe forgot, + Aias now faileth not +Aught that of prayer and Heaven-worship is meet. +Time bringeth mighty aid--nought but in time doth fade: +Nothing shall move me as strange to my thought. + Aias our lord hath now + Cleared his wrath-burdened brow + Long our despair, + Ceased from his angry feud + And with mild heart renewed +Peace and goodwill to the high-sceptred pair. + +_Enter_ Messenger. + +MESSENGER. Friends, my first news is Teucer's presence here, +Fresh from the Mysian heights; who, as he came +Right toward the generals' quarter, was assailed +With outcry from the Argives in a throng: +For when they knew his motion from afar +They swarmed around him, and with shouts of blame +From each side one and all assaulted him +As brother to the man who had gone mad +And plotted 'gainst the host,--threatening aloud, +Spite of his strength, he should be stoned, and die. +--So far strife ran, that swords unscabbarded +Crossed blades, till as it mounted to the height +Age interposed with counsel, and it fell. + But where is Aias to receive my word? +Tidings are best told to the rightful ear. + +CH. Not in the hut, but just gone forth, preparing +New plans to suit his newly altered mind. + +MESS. Alas! +Too tardy then was he who sped me hither; +Or I have proved too slow a messenger. + +CH. What point is lacking for thine errand's speed? + +MESS. Teucer was resolute the man should bide +Close held within-doors till himself should come. + +CH. Why, sure his going took the happiest turn +And wisest, to propitiate Heaven's high wrath. + +MESS. The height of folly lives in such discourse, +If Calchas have the wisdom of a seer. + +CH. What knowest thou of our state? What saith he? Tell. + +MESS. I can tell only what I heard and saw. +Whilst all the chieftains and the Atridae twain +Were seated in a ring, Calchas alone +Rose up and left them, and in Teucer's palm +Laid his right hand full friendly; then out-spake +With strict injunction by all means i' the world +To keep beneath yon covert this one day +Your hero, and not suffer him to rove, +If he would see him any more alive. +For through this present light--and ne'er again--- +Holy Athena, so he said, will drive him +Before her anger. Such calamitous woe +Strikes down the unprofitable growth that mounts +Beyond his measure and provokes the sky. +'Thus ever,' said the prophet, 'must he fall +Who in man's mould hath thoughts beyond a man. +And Aias, ere he left his father's door, +Made foolish answer to his prudent sire. + 'My son,' said Telamon, 'choose victory +Always, but victory with an aid from Heaven.' +How loftily, how madly, he replied! +'Father, with heavenly help men nothing worth +May win success. But I am confident +Without the Gods to pluck this glory down.' +So huge the boast he vaunted! And again +When holy Pallas urged him with her voice +To hurl his deadly spear against the foe, +He turned on her with speech of awful sound: + 'Goddess, by other Greeks take thou thy stand; +Where I keep rank, the battle ne'er shall break.' +Such words of pride beyond the mortal scope +Have won him Pallas' wrath, unlovely meed. +But yet, perchance, so be it he live to-day, +We, with Heaven's succour, may restore his peace.'-- +Thus far the prophet, when immediately +Teucer dispatched me, ere the assembly rose, +Bearing to thee this missive to be kept +With all thy care. But if my speed be lost, +And Calchas' word have power, the man is dead. + +CH. O trouble-tost Tecmessa, born to woe, +Come forth and see what messenger is here! +This news bites near the bone, a death to joy. + +_Enter_ TECMESSA. + +TEC. Wherefore again, when sorrow's cruel storm +Was just abating, break ye my repose? + +CH. (_pointing to the_ Messenger). +Hear what he saith, and how he comes to bring +News of our Aias that hath torn my heart. + +TEC. Oh me! what is it, man? Am I undone? + +MESS. Thy case I know not; but of Aias this, +That if he roam abroad, 'tis dangerous. + +TEC. He is, indeed, abroad. Oh! tell me quickly! + +MESS. 'Tis Teucer's strong command to keep him close +Beneath this roof, nor let him range alone. + +TEC. But where is Teucer? and what means his word? + +MESS. Even now at hand, and eager to make known +That Aias, if he thus go forth, must fall. + +TEC. Alas! my misery! Whence learned he this? + +MESS. From Thestor's prophet-offspring, who to-day +Holds forth to Aias choice of life or death. + +TEC. Woe's me! O friends, this desolating blow +Is falling! Oh, stand forward to prevent! +And some bring Teucer with more haste, while some +Explore the western bays and others search +Eastward to find your hero's fatal path! +For well I see I am cheated and cast forth +From the old favour. Child, what shall I do? [_Looking at_ EURYSAKES +We must not stay. I too will fare along, +go far as I have power. Come, let us go. +Bestir ye! 'Tis no moment to sit still, +If we would save him who now speeds to die. + +CH. I am ready. Come! Fidelity of foot, +And swift performance, shall approve me true. [_Exeunt omnes_ + +_The scene changes to a lonely wooded spot._ + +AIAS (_discovered alone_). +The sacrificer stands prepared,--and when +More keen? Let me take time for thinking, too! +This gift of Hector, whom of stranger men +I hated most with heart and eyes, is set +In hostile Trojan soil, with grinding hone +Fresh-pointed, and here planted by my care +Thus firm, to give me swift and friendly death. +Fine instrument, so much for thee! Then, first, +Thou, for 'tis meet, great Father, lend thine aid. +For no great gift I sue thee. Let some voice +Bear Teucer the ill news, that none but he +May lift my body, newly fallen in death +About my bleeding sword, ere I be spied +By some of those who hate me, and be flung +To dogs and vultures for an outcast prey. +So far I entreat thee, Lord of Heaven. And thou, +Hermes, conductor of the shadowy dead, +Speed me to rest, and when with this sharp steel +I have cleft a sudden passage to my heart, +At one swift bound waft me to painless slumber! +But most be ye my helpers, awful Powers, +Who know no blandishments, but still perceive +All wicked deeds i' the world--strong, swift, and sure, +Avenging Furies, understand my wrong, +See how my life is ruined, and by whom. +Come, ravin on Achaean flesh--spare none; +Rage through the camp!--Last, thou that driv'st thy course +Up yon steep Heaven, thou Sun, when thou behold'st +My fatherland, checking thy golden rein, +Report my fall, and this my fatal end, +To my old sire, and the poor soul who tends him. +Ah, hapless one! when she shall hear this word, +How she will make the city ring with woe! + 'Twere from the business idly to condole. +To work, then, and dispatch. O Death! O Death! +Now come, and welcome! Yet with thee, hereafter, +I shall find close communion where I go. +But unto thee, fresh beam of shining Day, +And thee, thou travelling Sun-god, I may speak +Now, and no more for ever. O fair light! +O sacred fields of Salamis my home! +Thou, firm set natal hearth: Athens renowned, +And ye her people whom I love; O rivers, +Brooks, fountains here--yea, even the Trojan plain +I now invoke!--kind fosterers, farewell! +This one last word from Aias peals to you: +Henceforth my speech will be with souls unseen. [_Falls on his sword_ + +CHORUS (_re-entering severally_). + +CH. A. Toil upon toil brings toil, + And what save trouble have I? + Which path have I not tried? + And never a place arrests me with its tale. + Hark! lo, again a sound! + +CH. B. 'Tis we, the comrades of your good ship's crew. + +CH. A. Well, sirs? + +CH. B. We have trodden all the westward arm o' the bay. + +CH. A. Well, have ye found? + +CH. B. Troubles enow, but nought to inform our sight. + +CH. A. Nor yet along the road that fronts the dawn + Is any sign of Aias to be seen. + +CH. Who then will tell me, who? What hard sea-liver, 1 + What toiling fisher in his sleepless quest, + What Mysian nymph, what oozy Thracian river, + Hath seen our wanderer of the tameless breast? + Where? tell me where! + 'Tis hard that I, far-toiling voyager, + Crossed by some evil wind, + Cannot the haven find, + Nor catch his form that flies me, where? ah! where? + +TEC. (_behind_). Oh, woe is me! woe, woe! + +CH. A. Who cries there from the covert of the grove? + +TEC. O boundless misery! + +CH. B. Steeped in this audible sorrow I behold +Tecmessa, poor fate-burdened bride of war. + +TEC. Friends, I am spoiled, lost, ruined, overthrown! + +CH. A. What ails thee now? + +TEC. See where our Aias lies, but newly slain, +Fallen on his sword concealed within the ground, + +CH. Woe for my hopes of home! + Aias, my lord, thou hast slain + Thy ship-companion on the salt sea foam. + Alas for us, and thee, + Child of calamity! + +TEC. So lies our fortune. Well may'st thou complain. + +CH. A. Whose hand employed he for the deed of blood? + +TEC. His own, 'tis manifest. This planted steel, +Fixed by his hand, gives verdict from his breast. + +CH. Woe for my fault, my loss! + Thou hast fallen in blood alone, + And not a friend to cross + Or guard thee. I, deaf, senseless as a stone, +Left all undone. Oh, where, then, lies the stern +Aias, of saddest name, whose purpose none might turn? + +TEC. No eye shall see him. I will veil him round +With this all covering mantle; since no heart +That loved him could endure to view him there, +With ghastly expiration spouting forth +From mouth and nostrils, and the deadly wound, +The gore of his self slaughter. Ah, my lord! +What shall I do? What friend will carry thee? +Oh, where is Teucer! Timely were his hand, +Might he come now to smooth his brother's corse. +O thou most noble, here ignobly laid, +Even enemies methinks must mourn thy fate! + +CH. Ah! 'twas too clear thy firm knit thoughts would fashion, 2 + Early or late, an end of boundless woe! + Such heaving groans, such bursts of heart-bruised passion, + Midnight and morn, bewrayed the fire below. + 'The Atridae might beware!' + A plenteous fount of pain was opened there, + What time the strife was set, + Wherein the noblest met, + Grappling the golden prize that kindled thy despair! + +TEC. Woe, woe is me! + +CH. Deep sorrow wrings thy soul, I know it well. + +TEC. O woe, woe, woe! + +CH. Thou may'st prolong thy moan, and be believed, +Thou that hast lately lost so true a friend. + +TEC. Thou may'st imagine; 'tis for me to know. + +CH. Ay, ay, 'tis true. + +TEC. Alas, my child! what slavish tasks and hard +We are drifting to! What eyes control our will! + +CH. Ay me! Through thy complaint + I hear the wordless blow + Of two high-throned, who rule without restraint + Of Pity. Heaven forfend + What evil they intend! + +TEC. The work of Heaven hath brought our life thus low. + +CH. 'Tis a sore burden to be laid on men. + +TEC. Yet such the mischief Zeus' resistless maid, +Pallas, hath planned to make Odysseus glad. + +CH. O'er that dark-featured soul + What waves of pride shall roll, + What floods of laughter flow, + Rudely to greet this madness-prompted woe, +Alas! from him who all things dares endure, +And from that lordly pair, who hear, and seat them sure! + +TEC. Ay, let them laugh and revel o'er his fall! +Perchance, albeit in life they missed him not, +Dead, they will cry for him in straits of war. +For dullards know not goodness in their hand, +Nor prize the jewel till 'tis cast away. +To me more bitter than to them 'twas sweet, +His death to him was gladsome, for he found +The lot he longed for, his self-chosen doom. +What cause have they to laugh? Heaven, not their crew, +Hath glory by his death. Then let Odysseus +Insult with empty pride. To him and his +Aias is nothing; but to me, to me, +He leaves distress and sorrow in his room! + +TEUCER (_within_). Alas, undone! + +LEADER OF CH. Hush! that was Teucer's cry. Methought I heard +His voice salute this object of dire woe. + +_Enter_ TEUCER. + +TEU. Aias, dear brother, comfort of mine eye, +Hast thou then done even as the rumour holds? + +CH. Be sure of that, Teucer. He lives no more. + +TEU. Oh, then how heavy is the lot I bear! + +CH. Yes, thou hast cause-- + +TEU. O rash assault of woe!-- + +CH. To mourn full loud. + +TEU. Ay me! and where, oh where +On Trojan earth, tell me, is this man's child? + +CH. Beside the huts, untended. + +TEU. (_to_ TEC). Oh, with haste +Go bring him hither, lest some enemy's hand +Snatch him, as from the lion's widowed mate +The lion-whelp is taken. Spare not speed. +All soon combine in mockery o'er the dead. [_Exit_ TECMESSA + +CH. Even such commands he left thee ere he died. +As thou fulfillest by this timely care. + +TEU. O sorest spectacle mine eyes e'er saw! +Woe for my journey hither, of all ways +Most grievous to my heart, since I was ware, +Dear Aias, of thy doom, and sadly tracked +Thy footsteps. For there darted through the host, +As from some God, a swift report of thee +That thou wert lost in death. I, hapless, heard, +And mourned even then for that whose presence kills me. +Ay me! But come, +Unveil. Let me behold my misery. [_The corpse of_ AIAS _is uncovered_ +O sight unbearable! Cruelly brave! +Dying, what store of griefs thou sow'st for me! +Where, amongst whom of mortals, can I go, +That stood not near thee in thy troublous hour? +Will Telamon, my sire and thine, receive me +With radiant countenance and favouring brow +Returning without thee? Most like! being one +Who smiles no more[4], yield Fortune what she may. +Will he hide aught or soften any word, +Rating the bastard of his spear-won thrall, +Whose cowardice and dastardy betrayed +Thy life, dear Aias,--or my murderous guile, +To rob thee of thy lordship and thy home? +Such greeting waits me from the man of wrath, +Whose testy age even without cause would storm. +Last, I shall leave my land a castaway, +Thrust forth an exile, and proclaimed a slave; +So should I fare at home. And here in Troy +My foes are many and my comforts few. +All these things are my portion through thy death. +Woe's me, my heart! how shall I bear to draw thee, +O thou ill-starr'd! from this discoloured blade, +Thy self-shown slayer? Didst thou then perceive +Dead Hector was at length to be thine end?-- +I pray you all, consider these two men. +Hector, whose gift from Aias was a girdle, +Tight-braced therewith to the car's rim, was dragged +And scarified till he breathed forth his life. +And Aias with this present from his foe +Finds through such means his death-fall and his doom. +Say then what cruel workman forged the gifts, +But Fury this sharp sword, Hell that bright band? +In this, and all things human, I maintain, +Gods are the artificers. My thought is said. +And if there be who cares not for my thought, +Let him hold fast his faith and leave me mine. + +CH. Spare longer speech, and think how to secure +Thy brother's burial, and what plea will serve; +Since one comes here hath no good will to us +And like a villain haply comes in scorn. + +TEU. What man of all the host hath caught thine eye? + +CH. The cause for whom we sailed, the Spartan King. + +TEU. Yes; I discern him, now he moves more near. + +_Enter_ MENELAUS. + +MENELAUS. Fellow, give o'er. Cease tending yon dead man! +Obey my voice, and leave him where he lies. + +TEU. Thy potent cause for spending so much breath? + +MEN. My will, and his whose word is sovereign here. + +TEU. May we not know the reasons of your will? + +MEN. Because he, whom we trusted to have brought +To lend us loyal help with heart and hand, +Proved in the trial a worse than Phrygian foe; +Who lay in wait for all the host by night, +And sallied forth in arms to shed our blood; +That, had not one in Heaven foiled this attempt, +Our lot had been to lie as he doth here +Dead and undone for ever, while he lived +And flourished. Heaven hath turned this turbulence +To fall instead upon the harmless flock. +Wherefore no strength of man shall once avail +To encase his body with a seemly tomb, +But outcast on the wide and watery sand, +He'll feed the birds that batten on the shore. +Nor let thy towering spirit therefore rise +In threatening wrath. Wilt thou or not, our hand +Shall rule him dead, howe'er he braved us living, +And that by force; for never would he yield, +Even while he lived, to words from me. And yet +It shows base metal when the subject-wight +Deigns not to hearken to the chief in power. +Since without settled awe, neither in states +Can laws have rightful sway, nor can a host +Be governed with due wisdom, if no fear +Or wholesome shame be there to shield its safety. +And though a man wax great in thews and bulk, +Let him be warned: a trifling harm may ruin him. +Whoever knows respect and honour both +Stands free from risk of dark vicissitude. +But whereso pride and licence have their fling, +Be sure that state will one day lose her course +And founder in the abysm. Let fear have place +Still where it ought, say I, nor let men think +To do their pleasure and not bide the pain. +That wheel comes surely round. Once Aias flamed +With insolent fierceness. Now I mount in pride, +And loudly bid thee bury him not, lest burying +Thy brother thou be burrowing thine own grave. + +CH. Menelaüs, make not thy philosophy +A platform whence to insult the valiant dead. + +TEU. I nevermore will marvel, sirs, when one +Of humblest parentage is prone to sin, +Since those reputed men of noble strain +Stoop to such phrase of prating frowardness. +Come, tell it o'er again,--said you ye brought +My brother bound to aid you with his power? +Sailed he not forth of his own sovereign will? +Where is thy voucher of command o'er him? +Where of thy right o'er those that followed him? +Sparta, not we, shall buckle to thy sway. +'Twas written nowhere in the bond of rule +That thou shouldst check him rather than he thee. +Thou sailedst under orders, not in charge +Of all, much less of Aias. Then pursue +Thy limited direction, and chastise, +In haughty phrase, the men who fear thy nod. +But I will bury Aias, whether thou +Or the other general give consent or no. +'Tis not for me to tremble at your word. +Not to reclaim thy wife, like those poor souls +Thou flll'st with labour, issued this man forth, +But caring for his oath, and not for thee, +Or any other nobody. Then come +With heralds all arow, and bring the man +Called king of men with thee! For thy sole noise +I budge not, wert thou twenty times thy name. + +CH. The sufferer should not bear a bitter tongue. +Hard words, how just soe'er, will leave their sting. + +MEN. Our bowman carries no small pride, I see. + +TEU. No mere mechanic's menial craft is mine. + +MEN. How wouldst thou vaunt it hadst thou but a shield! + +TEU. Unarmed I fear not thee in panoply. + +MEN. Redoubted is the wrath lives on thy tongue. + +TEU. Whose cause is just hath licence to be proud. + +MEN. Just, that my murderer have a peaceful end? + +TEU. Thy murderer? Strange, to have been slain and live! + +MEN. Yea, through Heaven's mercy. By his will, I am dead. + +TEU. If Heaven have saved thee, give the Gods their due. + +MEN. Am I the man to spurn at Heaven's command? + +TEU. Thou dost, to come and frustrate burial. + +MEN. Honour forbids to yield my foe a tomb. + +TEU. And Aias was thy foeman? Where and when? + +MEN. Hate lived between us; that thou know'st full well. + +TEU. For thy proved knavery, coining votes i' the court + +MEN. The judges voted. He ne'er lost through me. + +TEU. Guilt hiding guile wears often fairest front. + +MEN. I know whom pain shall harass for that word. + +TEU. Not without giving equal pain, 'tis clear. + +MEN. No more, but this. No burial for this man! + +TEU. Yea, this much more. He shall have instant burial. + +MEN. I have seen ere now a man of doughty tongue +Urge sailors in foul weather to unmoor, +Who, caught in the sea-misery by and by, +Lay voiceless, muffled in his cloak, and suffered +Who would of the sailors over trample him +Even so methinks thy truculent mouth ere long +Shall quench its outcry, when this little cloud +Breaks forth on thee with the full tempest's might. + +TEU. I too have seen a man whose windy pride +Poured forth loud insults o'er a neighbour's fall, +Till one whose cause and temper showed like mine +Spake to him in my hearing this plain word: +'Man, do the dead no wrong; but, if thou dost, +Be sure thou shalt have sorrow.' Thus he warned +The infatuate one: ay, one whom I behold, +For all may read my riddle--thou art he. + +MEN. I will be gone. 'Twere shame to me, if known, +To chide when I have power to crush by force. + +TEU. Off with you, then! 'Twere triple shame in me +To list the vain talk of a blustering fool. [_Exit_ MENELAUS + +LEADER OF CHORUS. + High the quarrel rears his head! + Haste thee, Teucer, trebly haste, + Grave-room for the valiant dead + Furnish with what speed thou mayst, + Hollowed deep within the ground, + Where beneath his mouldering mound + Aias aye shall be renowned. + +_Re-enter_ TECMESSA _with_ EURYSAKES. + +TEU. Lo! where the hero's housemate and his child, +Hitting the moment's need, appear at hand, +To tend the burial of the ill fated dead. +Come, child, take thou thy station close beside: +Kneel and embrace the author of thy life, +In solemn suppliant fashion holding forth +This lock of thine own hair, and hers, and mine +With threefold consecration, that if one +Of the army force thee from thy father's corse, +My curse may banish him from holy ground, +Far from his home, unburied, and cut off +From all his race, even as I cut this curl. +There, hold him, child, and guard him; let no hand +Stir thee, but lean to the calm breast and cling. +(_To_ CHORUS) And ye, be not like women in this scene, +Nor let your manhoods falter; stand true men +To this defence, till I return prepared, +Though all cry No, to give him burial. [_Exit_ + +CHORUS. +When shall the tale of wandering years be done? I 1 +When shall arise our exile's latest sun? +Oh, where shall end the incessant woe +Of troublous spear-encounter with the foe, + Through this vast Trojan plain, +Of Grecian arms the lamentable stain? + +Would he had gone to inhabit the wide sky, I 2 +Or that dark home of death where millions lie, +Who taught our Grecian world the way +To use vile swords and knit the dense array! + His toil gave birth to toil +In endless line. He made mankind his spoil. + +His tyrant will hath forced me to forgo II 1 +The garland, and the goblet's bounteous flow: + Yea, and the flute's dear noise, + And night's more tranquil joys; + Ay me! nor only these, + The fruits of golden ease, +But Love, but Love--O crowning sorrow!-- +Hath ceased for me. I may not borrow + Sweet thoughts from him to smooth my dreary bed, + Where dank night-dews fall ever on my head, +Lest once I might forget the sadness of the morrow. + +Even here in Troy, Aias was erst my rock, II 2 +From darkling fears and 'mid the battle-shock + To screen me with huge might: + Now he is lost in night + And horror. Where again + Shall gladness heal my pain? +O were I where the waters hoary, +Round Sunium's pine-clad promontory, + Plash underneath the flowery upland height. + Then holiest Athens soon would come in sight, +And to Athena's self I might declare my story. + +_Enter_ TEUCER. + +TEU. My steps were hastened, brethren, when I saw +Great Agamemnon hitherward afoot. +He means to talk perversely, I can tell. + +_Enter_ AGAMEMNON. + +AG. And so I hear thou'lt stretch thy mouth agape +With big bold words against us undismayed-- +Thou, the she-captive's offspring! High would scale +Thy voice, and pert would be thy strutting gait, +Were but thy mother noble; since, being naught, +So stiff thou stand'st for him who is nothing now, +And swear'st we came not as commanders here +Of all the Achaean navy, nor of thee; +But Aias sailed, thou say'st, with absolute right. +Must we endure detraction from a slave? +What was the man thou noisest here so proudly? +Have I not set my foot as firm and far? +Or stood his valour unaccompanied +In all this host? High cause have we to rue +That prize-encounter for Pelides' arms, +Seeing Teucer's sentence stamps our knavery +For all to know it; and nought will serve but ye, +Being vanquished, kick at the award that passed +By voice of the majority in the court, +And either pelt us with rude calumnies, +Or stab at us, ye laggards! with base guile. +Howbeit, these ways will never help to build +The wholesome order of established law, +If men shall hustle victors from their right, +And mix the hindmost rabble with the van. +That craves repression. Not by bulky size, +Or shoulders' breadth, the perfect man is known; +But wisdom gives chief power in all the world. +The ox hath a huge broadside, yet is held +Right in the furrow by a slender goad; +Which remedy, I perceive, will pass ere long +To visit thee, unless thy wisdom grow; +Who hast uttered forth such daring insolence +For the pale shadow of a vanished man. +Learn modestly to know thy place and birth, +And bring with thee some freeborn advocate +To plead thy cause before us in thy room. +I understand not in the barbarous tongue, +And all thy talk sounds nonsense to mine ear. + +CH. Would ye might both have sense to curb your ire! +No better hope for either can I frame. + +TEU. Fie! How doth gratitude when men are dead +Prove renegade and swiftly pass away! +This Agamemnon hath no slightest word +Of kind remembrance any more for thee, +Aias, who oftentimes for his behoof +Hast jeoparded thy life in labour of war. +Now all is clean forgotten and out of mind. +Thou who hast multiplied words void of sense, +Hast thou no faintest memory of the time +When who but Aias came and rescued you +Already locked within the toils,--all lost, +The rout began: when close abaft the ships +The torches flared, and o'er the bootless trench +Hector was bounding high to board our fleet? +Who stayed that onset? Was not Aias he? +Whom thou deny'st to have once set foot by thine. +Find ye no merit there? And once again +When he met Hector singly, man to man, +Not by your bidding, but the lottery's choice, +His lot, that skulked not low adown i' the heap, +A moist earth-clod, but sure to spring in air, +And first to clear the plumy helmet's brim. +Yes, Aias was the man, and I too there +Kept rank, the 'barbarous mother's servile son.' +I pity thee the blindness of that word. +Who was thy father's father? A barbarian, +Pelops, the Phrygian, if you trace him far! +And what was Atreus, thine own father? One +Who served his brother with the abominable +Dire feast of his own flesh. And thou thyself +Cam'st from a Cretan mother, whom her sire +Caught with a man who had no right in her +And gave dumb fishes the polluted prey. +Such was thy race. What is the race thou spurnest? +My father, Telamon, of all the host +Being foremost proved in valour, took as prize +My mother for his mate: a princess she, +Born of Laomedon; Alcmena's son +Gave her to grace him--a triumphant meed. +Thus royally descended and thus brave, +Shall I renounce the brother of my blood, +Or suffer thee to thrust him in his woes +Far from all burial, shameless that thou art? +Be sure that, if ye cast him forth, ye'll cast +Three bodies more beside him in one spot; +For nobler should I find it here to die +In open quarrel for my kinsman's weal, +Than for thy wife--or Menelaüs', was 't? +Consider then, not my case, but your own. +For if you harm me you will wish some day +To have been a coward rather than dare me. + +CH. Hail, Lord Odysseus! thou art come in time +Not to begin, but help to end, a fray. + +_Enter_ ODYSSEUS. + +OD. What quarrel, sirs? I well perceived from far +The kings high-voicing o'er the valiant dead. + +AG. Yea, Lord Odysseus, for our ears are full +Of this man's violent heart-offending talk. + +OD. What words have passed? I cannot blame the man +Who meets foul speech with bitterness of tongue. + +AG. My speech was bitter, for his deeds were foul. + +OD. What deed of his could harm thy sovereign head? + +AG. He boldly says this corse shall not be left +Unburied, but he'll bury it in our spite. + +OD. May I then speak true counsel to my friend, +And pull with thee in policy as of yore? + +AG. Speak. I were else a madman; for no friend +Of all the Argeians do I count thy peer. + +OD. Then hear me in Heaven's name! Be not so hard +Thus without ruth tombless to cast him forth; +Nor be so vanquished by a vehement will, +That to thy hate even Justice' self must bow. +I, too, had him for my worst enemy, +Since I gained mastery o'er Pelides' arms. +But though he used me so, I ne'er will grudge +For his proud scorn to yield him thus much honour, +That, save Achilles' self, I have not seen +So noble an Argive on the fields of Troy. +Then 'twere not just in thee to slight him now; +Nor would thy treatment wound him, but confound +The laws of Heaven. No hatred should have scope +To offend the noble spirits of the dead. + +AG. Wilt thou thus fight against me on his side? + +OD. Yea, though I hated him, while hate was comely. + +AG. Why, thou shouldst trample him the more, being dead. + +OD. Rejoice not, King, in feats that soil thy fame! + +AG. 'Tis hard for power to observe each pious rule. + +OD. Not hard to grace the good words of a friend. + +AG. The 'noble spirit' should hearken to command. + +OD. No more! 'Tis conquest to be ruled by love. + +AG. Remember what he was thou gracest so. + +OD. A noisome enemy; but his life was great. + +AG. And wilt thou honour such a pestilent corse? + +OD. Hatred gives way to magnanimity. + +AG. With addle-pated fools. + +OD. Full many are found +Friends for an hour, yet bitter in the end. + +AG. And wouldst thou have us gentle to such friends? + +OD. I would not praise ungentleness in aught. + +AG. We shall be known for weaklings through thy counsel. + +OD. Not so, but righteous in all Grecian eyes. + +AG. Thou bidst me then let bury this dead man? + +OD. I urge thee to the course myself shall follow. + +AG. Ay, every man for his own line! That holds. + +OD. Why not for my own line? What else were natural? + +AG. 'Twill be thy doing then, ne'er owned by me. + +OD. Own it or not, the kindness is the same. + +AG. Well, for thy sake I'd grant a greater boon; +Then why not this? However, rest assured +That in the grave or out of it, Aias still +Shall have my hatred. Do thou what thou wilt. [_Exit_ + +CH. Whoso would sneer at thy philosophy, +While such thy ways, Odysseus, were a fool. + +OD. And now let Teucer know that from this hour +I am more his friend than I was once his foe, +And fain would help him in this burial-rite +And service to his brother, nor would fail +In aught that mortals owe their noblest dead. + +TEU. Odysseus, best of men, thine every word +Hath my heart's praise, and my worst thought of thee +Is foiled by thy staunch kindness to the man +Who was thy rancorous foe. Thou wast not keen +To insult in present of his corse, like these, +The insensate general and his brother-king, +Who came with proud intent to cast him forth +Foully debarred from lawful obsequy. +Wherefore may he who rules in yon wide heaven, +And the unforgetting Fury-spirit, and she, +Justice, who crowns the right, so ruin them +With cruellest destruction, even as they +Thought ruthlessly to rob him of his tomb! +For thee, revered Laërtes' lineal seed, +I fear to admit thy hand unto this rite, +Lest we offend the spirit that is gone. +But for the rest, I hail thy proffered aid; +And bring whom else thou wilt, I'll ne'er resent it. +This work shall be my single care; but thou, +Be sure I love thee for thy generous heart. + +OD. I had gladly done it; but, since thou declinest, +I bow to thy decision, and depart. [_Exit_ + +TEU. Speed we, for the hour grows late: + Some to scoop his earthy cell, + Others by the cauldron wait, + Plenished from the purest well. + Hoist it, comrades, here at hand, + High upon the three-foot stand! + Let the cleansing waters flow; + Brightly flame the fire below! + Others in a stalwart throng + From his chamber bear along + All the arms he wont to wield + Save alone the mantling shield. + Thou with me thy strength employ, + Lifting this thy father, boy; + Hold his frame with tender heed-- + Still the gashed veins darkly bleed. + Who professes here to love him? + Ply your busy cares above him, + Come and labour for the man, + Nobler none since time began, + Aias, while his life-blood ran. + +LEADER OF CH. Oft we know not till we see. + Weak is human prophecy. + Judge not, till the hour have taught thee + What the destinies have brought thee. + + * * * * * + + + + + KING OEDIPUS + + + THE PERSONS + +OEDIPUS, _King of Thebes._ +_Priest of Zeus._ +CREON, _brother of Jocasta._ +CHORUS _of Theban Elders._ +TIRESIAS, _the Blind Prophet._ +JOCASTA, _the Queen, sister to Creon._ +_A Corinthian Shepherd._ +_A Theban Shepherd._ +_Messenger_ + +The following also appear, but do not speak: + +_A Train of Suppliants._ +_The children_ ANTIGONE _and_ ISMENE. + + +SCENE. Before the Royal Palace in the Cadmean citadel of Thebes. + + + + +Laius, the descendant of Cadmus, and king of Thebes (or Thebè), had +been told by an oracle that if a son were born to him by his wife +Jocasta the boy would be his father's death. + +Under such auspices, Oedipus was born, and to elude the prophecy was +exposed by his parents on Mount Cithaeron. But he was saved by a +compassionate shepherd, and became the adopted son of Polybus, king of +Corinth. When he grew up he was troubled by a rumour that he was not +his father's son. He went to consult the oracle of Apollo at Delphi, +and was told--not of his origin but of his destiny--that he should be +guilty of parricide and incest. + +He was too horror-stricken to return to Corinth, and as he travelled +the other way, he met Laius going from Thebes to Delphi. The +travellers quarrelled and the son killed his father, but knew not whom +he had slain. He went onward till he came near Thebes, where the +Sphinx was making havoc of the noblest citizens, devouring all who +failed to solve her riddle. But Oedipus succeeded and overcame her, +and, as Laius did not return, was rewarded with the regal sceptre,-- +and with the hand of the queen. + +He reigned nobly and prosperously, and lived happily with Jocasta, by +whom he had four children. + +But after some years a plague descended on the people, and Apollo, on +being inquired of, answered that it was for Laius' death. The act of +regicide must be avenged. Oedipus undertakes the task of discovering +the murderer,--and in the same act discovers his own birth, and the +fulfilment of both the former prophecies. + +Jocasta hangs herself, and Oedipus in his despair puts out his eyes. + + + + + KING OEDIPUS + + +OEDIPUS--Priest of Zeus +(_with the_ Train of Suppliants _grouped before an altar_). + +OEDIPUS. Nurslings of Cadmus, children of my care, +Why press ye now to kneel before my gate +With sacred branches in those suppliant hands, +While o'er your city clouds of incense rise +And sounds of praise, mingling with sounds of woe? + I would not learn of your estate, my sons, +Through others, wherefore I myself am come, +Your Oedipus,--a name well known to men. +Speak, aged friend, whose look proclaims thee meet +To be their spokesman--What desire, what fear +Hath brought you? Doubt not of my earnest will +To lend all succour. Hard would be the heart +That looked unmoved on such a kneeling throng. + +PRIEST. Great ruler of my country, thou beholdest +The different ages of our flock who here +Are gathered round thine altar,--some, whose wing +Hath not yet ventured far from home, and some +Burdened with many years, priests of the Gods, +Myself the arch priest of Zeus, and these fresh youths, +A chosen few. Others there are who crowd +The holy agora and the temples twain +Of Pallas, and Ismenus' hallowed fires, +A suppliant host. For, as thyself perceivest, +Our city is tempest tost, and all too weak +To lift above the waves her weary prow +That plunges in a rude and ravenous sea. +Earth's buds are nipped, withering the germs within, +Our cattle lose their increase, and our wives +Have fruitless travail; and that scourge from Heaven, +The fiery Pestilence abhorred of men, +Descending on our people with dire stroke +Lays waste the Home of Cadmus, while dark Death +Wins ample tribute of laments and groans. + We kneel, then, at thy hearth; not likening thee +Unto the gods, I nor these children here, +But of men counting thee the first in might +Whether to cope with earthly casualty +Or visiting of more than earthly Power. +Thou, in thy coming to this Theban land, +Didst take away the hateful tax we paid +To that stern songstress[1],--aided not by us +With hint nor counsel, but, as all believe, +Gifted from heaven with life-restoring thought. +Now too, great Oedipus of matchless fame, +We all uplift our suppliant looks to thee, +To find some help for us, whether from man, +Or through the prompting of a voice Divine. +Experienced counsel, we have seen and know, +Hath ever prosperous issue. Thou, then, come, +Noblest of mortals, give our city rest +From sorrow! come, take heed! seeing this our land +Now calls thee Saviour for thy former zeal; +And 'twere not well to leave this memory +Of thy great reign among Cadmean men, +'He raised us up, only again to fall.' +Let the salvation thou hast wrought for us +Be flawless and assured! As once erewhile +Thy lucky star gave us prosperity, +Be the same man to-day. Wouldst thou be king +In power, as in command, 'tis greater far +To rule a people than a wilderness. +Since nought avails or city or buttressed wall +Or gallant vessel, if unmanned and void. + +OED. Ye touch me to the core. Full well I know +Your trouble and your desire. Think not, my sons, +I have no feeling of your misery! +Yet none of you hath heaviness like mine. +Your grief is held within the single breast +Of each man severally. My burdened heart +Mourns for myself, for Thebè, and for you. +Your coming hath not roused me from repose: +I have watched, and bitterly have wept; my mind +Hath travelled many a labyrinth of thought. +And now I have tried in act the only plan +Long meditation showed me. I have sent +The brother of my queen, Menoeceus' son, +Creon, to learn, in Phoebus' Delphian Hall, +What word or deed of mine may save this city. +And when I count the time, I am full of pain +To guess his speed; for he is absent long, +Beyond the limit of expectancy. +But when he shall appear, base then were I +In aught to disobey the voice of Heaven. + +PR. Lo, in good time, crowning thy gracious word, +'Tis told me by these youths, Creon draws near. + +OED. Apollo! may his coming be as blest +With saving fortune, as his looks are bright. + +PR. Sure he brings joyful news; else had he ne'er +Worn that full wreath of thickly-berried bay. + +OED. We have not long to doubt. He can hear now. + +_Enter_ CREON. + +Son of Menoeceus, brother of my queen, +What answer from Apollo dost thou bring? + +CREON. Good; for my message is that even our woes, +When brought to their right issue, shall be well. + +OED. What saith the oracle? Thy words so far +Neither embolden nor dishearten me. + +CR. Say, must I tell it with these standing by, +Or go within? I am ready either way. + +OED. Speak forth to all. The burden of their grief +Weighs more on me than my particular fear. + +CE. My lips shall utter what the God hath said. +Sovereign Apollo clearly bids us drive +Forth from this region an accursed thing +(For such is fostered in the land and stains +Our sacred clime), nor cherish it past cure. + +OED. What is the fault, and how to be redressed? + +CR. By exile, or by purging blood with blood. +Since blood it is that shakes us with this storm. + +OED. Whose murder doth Apollo thus reveal? + +CR. My gracious lord, before thy prosperous reign +King Laius was the leader of our land. + +OED. Though I ne'er saw him, I have heard, and know. + +CR. Phoebus commands us now to punish home, +Whoe'er they are, the authors of his death. + +OED. But they, where are they? Where shall now be read +The fading record of this ancient guilt? + +CR He saith, 'tis in this land. And what is sought +Is found, while things uncared for glide away. + +OED. But where did Laius meet this violent end? +At home, afield, or on some foreign soil? + +CR. He had left us, as he said, to visit Delphi; +But nevermore returned since he set forth. + +OED. And was there none, no fellow traveller, +To see, and tell the tale, and help our search? + +CR. No, they were slain; save one, who, flying in fear, +Had nought to tell us but one only thing. + +OED. What was that thing? A little door of hope, +Once opened, may discover much to view. + +CR. A random troop of robbers, meeting him, +Outnumbered and o'erpowered him. So 'twas told. + +OED. What robber would have ventured such a deed, +If unsolicited with bribes from hence? + +CR. We thought of that. But Laius being dead, +We found no helper in our miseries. + +OED. When majesty was fallen, what misery +Could hinder you from searching out the truth? + +CR. A present trouble had engrossed our care. +The riddling Sphinx compelled us to observe +The moment's grief, neglecting things unknown. + +OED. But I will track this evil to the spring +And clear it to the day. Most worthily +Doth great Apollo, worthily dost thou +Prompt this new care for the unthought of dead. +And me too ye shall find a just ally, +Succouring the cause of Phoebus and the land. +Since, in dispelling this dark cloud, I serve +No indirect or distant claim on me, +But mine own life, for he that slew the king +May one day turn his guilty hand 'gainst me +With equal rage. In righting Laius, then, +I forward mine own cause.--Now, children, rise +From the altar-steps, and lift your suppliant boughs, +And let some other summon to this place +All Cadmus' people, and assure them, I +Will answer every need. This day shall see us +Blest with glad fortune through God's help, or fallen. + +PR. Rise then, my children. Even for this we came +Which our good lord hath promised of himself. +Only may Phoebus, who hath sent this word, +With healing power descend, and stay the plague. [_Exeunt severally_ + +CHORUS (_entering_). +Kind voice of Heaven, soft-breathing from the height I 1 +Of Pytho's opulent home to Thebè bright, + What wilt thou bring to day? + Ah, Delian Healer, say! +My heart hangs on thy word with trembling awe: + What new giv'n law, +Or what returning in Time's circling round +Wilt thou unfold? Tell us, immortal sound, +Daughter of golden Hope, tell us, we pray, we pray! + +First, child of Zeus, Pallas, to thee appealing, I 2 +Then to sweet Artemis, thy sister, kneeling, + Who with benignant hand + Still guards our sacred land, +Throned o'er the circling mart that hears her praise, + And thou, whose rays +Pierce evil from afar, ho! come and save, +Ye mighty three! if e'er before ye drave +The threatening fire of woe from Thebè, come to day! + + For ah! the griefs that on me weigh II 1 + Are numberless; weak are my helpers all, + And thought finds not a sword to fray + This hated pestilence from hearth or hall. + Earth's blossoms blasted fall: + Nor can our women rise + From childbed after pangs and cries; + But flocking more and more + Toward the western shore, +Soul after soul is known to wing her flight, +Swifter than quenchless flame, to the far realm of Night. + + So deaths innumerable abound. II 2 + My city's sons unpitied lie around + Over the plague-encumbered ground + And wives and matrons old on every hand + Along the altar-strand + Groaning in saddest grief + Pour supplication for relief. + Loud hymns are sounding clear + With wailing voices near. +Then, golden daughter of the heavenly sire, +Send bright-eyed Succour forth to drive away this fire. + + And swiftly speed afar, III 1 + Windborne on backward car, + The viewless fiend who scares me with wild cries, + To oarless Thracian tide, + Of ocean-chambers wide, + About the bed where Amphitritè lies. +Day blights what night hath spared. O thou whose hand +Wields lightning, blast him with thy thundrous brand. + + Shower from the golden string III 2 + Thine arrows Lycian King! + O Phoebus, let thy fiery lances fly + Resistless, as they rove + Through Xanthus' mountain-grove! + O Thoeban Bacchus of the lustrous eye, +With torch and trooping Maenads and bright crown +Blaze on thee god whom all in Heaven disown. + [OEDIPUS _has entered during the Choral song_ + +OED. Your prayers are answered. Succour and relief +Are yours, if ye will heed my voice and yield +What help the plague requires. Hear it from me, +Who am hitherto a stranger to the tale, +As to the crime. Being nought concerned therewith, +I could not of myself divine the truth. +But now, as one adopted to your state, +To all of you Cadmeans I speak this: +Whoe'er among you knoweth the murderer +Of Laius, son of royal Labdacus, +Let him declare the deed in full to me. +First, if the man himself be touched with fear, +Let him depart, carrying the guilt away; +No harm shall follow him:--he shall go free. +Or if there be who knows another here, +Come from some other country, to have wrought +This murder, let him speak. Reward from me +And store of kind remembrance shall be his. +But if ye are silent, and one present here +Who might have uttered this, shall hold his peace, +As fearing for himself, or for his friend, +What then shall be performed, hear me proclaim. +I here prohibit all within this realm +Whereof I wield the sceptre and sole sway, +To admit the murderer, whosoe'er he be, +Within their houses, or to speak with him, +Or share with him in vow or sacrifice +Or lustral rite. All men shall thrust him forth, +Our dark pollution, so to me revealed +By this day's oracle from Pytho's cell. + So firm is mine allegiance to the God +And your dead sovereign in this holy war. +Now on the man of blood, whether he lurk +In lonely guilt, or with a numerous band, +I here pronounce this curse:--Let his crushed life +Wither forlorn in hopeless misery. +Next, I pray Heaven, should he or they be housed +With mine own knowledge in my home, that I +May suffer all I imprecate on them. +Last, I enjoin each here to lend his aid +For my sake, and the God's, and for your land +Reft of her increase and renounced by Heaven. +It was not right, when your good king had fallen, +Although the oracle were silent still, +To leave this inquisition unperformed. +Long since ye should have purged the crime. But now +I, to whom fortune hath transferred his crown, +And given his queen in marriage,--yea, moreover, +His seed and mine had been one family +Had not misfortune trampled on his head +Cutting him off from fair posterity,-- +All this being so, I will maintain his cause +As if my father's, racking means and might +To apprehend the author of the death +Of Laius, son to Labdacus, and heir +To Polydorus and to Cadmus old, +And proud Agenor of the eldest time. + Once more, to all who disobey in this +May Heaven deny the produce of the ground +And offspring from their wives, and may they pine +With plagues more horrible than this to-day. +But for the rest of you Cadmean men, +Who now embrace my word, may Righteousness, +Strong to defend, and all the Gods for aye +Watch over you for blessing in your land. + +LEADER OF CH. Under the shadow of thy curse, my lord, +I will speak. I slew him not, nor can I show +The man who slew. Phoebus, who gave the word, +Should name the guilty one. + +OED. Thy thought is just, +But man may not compel the Gods. + +CH. Again, +That failing, I perceive a second way. + +OED. Were there a third, spare not to speak it forth. + +CH. I know of one alone whose kingly mind +Sees all King Phoebus sees--Tirésias,--he +Infallibly could guide us in this quest. + +OED. That doth not count among my deeds undone. +By Creon's counsel I have sent twice o'er +To fetch him, and I muse at his delay. + +CH. The rumour that remains is old and dim. + +OED. What rumour? Let no tale be left untried. + +CH. 'Twas said he perished by some wandering band. + +OED. But the one witness is removed from ken. + +CH. Well, if the man be capable of fear, +He'll not remain when he hath heard thy curse. + +OED. Words have no terror for the soul that dares +Such doings. + +CH. Yet lives one who shall convict him. +For look where now they lead the holy seer, +Whom sacred Truth inspires alone of men. + +_Enter_ TIRESIAS. + +OED. O thou whose universal thought commands +All knowledge and all mysteries, in Heaven +And on the earth beneath, thy mind perceives, +Tirésias, though thine outward eye be dark, +What plague is wasting Thebè, who in thee, +Great Sir, finds her one saviour, her sole guide. +Phoebus (albeit the messengers perchance +Have told thee this) upon our sending sent +This answer back, that no release might come +From this disaster, till we sought and found +And slew the murderers of king Laius, +Or drave them exiles from our land. Thou, then, +Withhold not any word of augury +Or other divination which thou knowest, +But rescue Thebè, and thyself, and me, +And purge the stain that issues from the dead. +On thee we lean: and 'tis a noble thing +To use what power one hath in doing good. + +TIRESIAS. Ah! terrible is knowledge to the man +Whom knowledge profits not. This well I knew, +But had forgotten. Else I ne'er had come. + +OED. Why dost thou bring a mind so full of gloom? + +TI. Let me go home. Thy part and mine to-day +Will best be borne, if thou obey me in that. + +OED. Disloyal and ungrateful! to deprive +The state that reared thee of thine utterance now. + +TI. Thy speech, I see, is foiling thine intent; +And I would shield me from the like mishap. (_Going._) + +OED. Nay, if thou knowest, turn thee not away: +All here with suppliant hands importune thee. + +TI. Yea, for ye all are blind. Never will I +Reveal my woe;--mine, that I say not, thine. + +OED. So, then, thou hast the knowledge of the crime +And wilt not tell, but rather wouldst betray +This people, and destroy thy fatherland! + +TI. You press me to no purpose. I'll not pain +Thee, nor myself. Thou wilt hear nought from me. + +OED. How? Miscreant! Thy stubbornness would rouse +Wrath in a breast of stone. Wilt thou yet hold +That silent, hard, impenetrable mien? + +TI. You censure me for my harsh mood. Your own +Dwells unsuspected with you. Me you blame! + +OED. Who can be mild and gentle, when thou speakest +Such words to mock this people? + +TI. It will come: +Although I bury it in silence here. + +OED. Must not the King be told of what will come? + +TI. No word from me. At this, an if thou wilt, +Rage to the height of passionate vehemence. + +OED. Ay, and my passion shall declare my thought. +'Tis clear to me as daylight, thou hast been +The arch-plotter of this deed; yea, thou hast done +All but the actual blow. Hadst thou thy sight, +I had proclaimed thee the sole murderer. + +TI. Ay, say'st thou so?--I charge thee to abide +By thine own ordinance; and from this hour +Speak not to any Theban nor to me. +Thou art the vile polluter of the land. + +OED. O void of shame! What wickedness is this? +What power will give thee refuge for such guilt? + +TI. The might of truth is scatheless. I am free. + +OED. Whence came the truth to thee? Not from thine art. + +TI. From thee, whose rage impelled my backward tongue. + +OED. Speak it once more, that I may know the drift. + +TI. Was it so dark? Or wouldst thou tempt me further? + +OED. I cannot say 'twas clear. Speak it again. + +TI. I say thou art the murderer whom thou seekest. + +OED. Again that baleful word! But thou shalt rue. + +TI. Shall I add more, to aggravate thy wrath? + +OED. All is but idleness. Say what thou wilt. + +TI. I tell thee thou art living unawares +In shameful commerce with thy near'st of blood, +Ignorant of the abyss wherein thou liest. + +OED. Think you to triumph in offending still? + +TI. If Truth have power. + +OED. She hath, but not for thee. +Blind as thou art in eyes and ears and mind. + +TI. O miserable reproach, which all who now +Behold thee, soon shall thunder forth on thee! + +OED. Nursed in unbroken night, thou canst not harm +Or me, or any man who seeth the day. + +TI. No, not from me proceeds thy fall; the God, +Who cares for this, is able to perform it. + +OED. Came this device from Creon or thyself? + +TI. Not Creon: thou art thy sole enemy. + +OED. O wealth and sovereign power and high success +Attained through wisdom and admired of men, +What boundless jealousies environ you! +When for this rule, which to my hand the State +Committed unsolicited and free, +Creon, my first of friends, trusted and sure, +Would undermine and hurl me from my throne, +Meanly suborning such a mendicant +Botcher of lies, this crafty wizard rogue, +Blind in his art, and seeing but for gain. +Where are the proofs of thy prophetic power? +How came it, when the minstrel-hound was here, +This folk had no deliverance through thy word? +Her snare could not be loosed by common wit, +But needed divination and deep skill; +No sign whereof proceeded forth from thee +Procured through birds or given by God, till I, +The unknowing traveller, overmastered her, +The stranger Oedipus, not led by birds, +But ravelling out the secret by my thought: +Whom now you study to supplant, and trust +To stand as a supporter of the throne +Of lordly Creon,--To your bitter pain +Thou and the man who plotted this will hunt +Pollution forth[2].--But for thy reverend look +Thou hadst atoned thy trespass on the spot. + +CH. Your friends would humbly deprecate the wrath +That sounds both in your speech, my lord, and his. +That is not what we need, but to discern +How best to solve the heavenly oracle. + +TI. Though thou art king and lord, I claim no less +Lordly prerogative to answer thee. +Speech is my realm; Apollo rules my life, +Not thou. Nor need I Creon to protect me. +Now, then: my blindness moves thy scorn:--thou hast +Thy sight, and seest not where thou art sunk in evil, +What halls thou dost inhabit, or with whom: +Know'st not from whence thou art--nay, to thy kin, +Buried in death and here above the ground, +Unwittingly art a most grievous foe. +And when thy father's and thy mother's curse +With fearful tread shall drive thee from the land, +On both sides lashing thee,--thine eye so clear +Beholding darkness in that day,--oh, then, +What region will not shudder at thy cry? +What echo in all Cithaeron will be mute, +When thou perceiv'st, what bride-song in thy hall +Wafted thy gallant bark with nattering gale +To anchor,--where? And other store of ill +Thou seest not, that shall show thee as thou art, +Merged with thy children in one horror of birth. +Then rail at noble Creon, and contemn +My sacred utterance! No life on earth +More vilely shall be rooted out, than thine. + +OED. Must I endure such words from him? Begone! +Off to thy ruin, and with speed! Away, +And take thy presence from our palace-hall! + +TI. Had you not sent for me, I ne'er had come. + +OED. I knew not thou wouldst utter folly here, +Else never had I brought thee to my door. + +TI. To thee I am foolish, then; but to the pair +Who gave thee life, I was wise. + +OED. Hold, go not! who? +Who gave me being? + +TI. To-day shall bring to light +Thy birth and thy destruction. + +OED. Wilt thou still +Speak all in riddles and dark sentences? + +TI. Methought thou wert the man to find them out. + +OED. Ay! Taunt me with the gift that makes me great. + +TI. And yet this luck hath been thy overthrow. + +OED. I care not, since I rescued this fair town. + +TI. Then I will go. Come, sirrah, guide me forth! + +OED. Be it so! For standing here you vex our eye, +But, you being gone, our trouble goes with you. + +TI. I go, but I will speak. Why should I fear +Thy frown? Thou ne'er canst ruin me. The word +Wherefore I came, is this: The man you seek +With threatening proclamation of the guilt +Of Laius' blood, that man is here to-day, +An alien sojourner supposed from far, +But by-and-by he shall be certified +A true-born Theban: nor will such event +Bring him great joy; for, blind from having sight +And beggared from high fortune, with a staff +In stranger lands he shall feel forth his way; +Shown living with the children of his loins, +Their brother and their sire, and to the womb +That bare him, husband-son, and, to his father, +Parricide and corrival. Now go in, +Ponder my words; and if thou find them false, +then say my power is naught in prophecy. [_Exeunt severally_ + +CHORUS. +Whom hath the voice from Delphi's rocky throne I 1 + Loudly declared to have done +Horror unnameable with murdering hand? + With speed of storm-swift car + 'Tis time he fled afar +With mighty footstep hurrying from the land. + For, armed with lightning brand, +The son of Zeus assails him with fierce bounds, +Hunting with Death's inevitable hounds. + +Late from divine Parnassus' snow-capped height I 2 + This utterance sprang to light, +To track by every path the man unknown. + Through woodland caverns deep + And o'er the rocky steep +Harbouring in caves he roams the wild alone, + With none to share his moan. +Shunning that prophet-voice's central sound, +Which ever lives, and haunts him, hovering round. + +The reverend Seer hath stirred me with strange awe. II 1 +Gainsay I cannot, nor yet think him true. +I know not how to speak. My fluttering heart +In wild expectancy sees nothing clear. +Things past and future with the present doubt +Are shrouded in one mist. What quarrel lay +'Twixt Cadmus' issue and Corinthus' heir +Was never shown me, from old times till now, +By one on whose sure word I might rely +In running counter to the King's fair fame, +To wreak for Laius that mysterious death. + +Zeus and Apollo scan the ways of men II 2 +With perfect vision. But of mortals here +That soothsayers are more inspired than I +What certain proof is given? A man through wit +May pass another's wisdom in the race. +But never, till I see the word fulfilled, +Will I confirm their clamour 'gainst the King. +In open day the female monster came: +Then perfect witness made his wisdom clear. +Thebè hath tried him and delights in him. +Wherefore my heart shall still believe him good. + +_Enter_ CREON. + +CR. Citizens, hearing of dire calumny +Denounced on me by Oedipus the King, +I am here to make loud protest. If he think, +In this embroilment of events, one word +Or deed of mine hath wrought him injury, +I am not careful to prolong my life +Beneath such imputation. For it means +No trifling danger, but disastrous harm, +Making my life dishonoured in the state, +And meanly thought of by my friends and you. + +CH. Perchance 'twas but the sudden flash of wrath, +Not the deliberate judgement of the soul. + +CR. Who durst declare it[3], that Tirésias spake +False prophecies, set on to this by me? + +CH. Such things were said, I know not how advised. + +CR. And were the eyes and spirit not distraught, +When the tongue uttered this to ruin me? + +CH. I cannot say. To what my betters do +I am blind. But see, the King comes forth again. + +_Enter_ OEDIPUS. + +OED. Insolent, art thou here? Hadst thou the face +To bring thy boldness near my palace-roof, +Proved as thou art to have contrived my death +And laid thy robber hands upon my state? +Tell me, by heaven, had you seen in me +A coward or a fool, when you planned this?-- +Deemed you I should be blind to your attempt +Craftily creeping on, or, when perceived, +Not ward it off? Is't not a silly scheme, +To think to compass without troops of friends +Power, that is only won by wealth and men? + +CR. Wilt them be counselled? Hear as much in turn +As thou hast spoken, and then thyself be judge. + +OED. I know thy tongue, but I am slow to learn +From thee, whom I have found my grievous foe. + +CR. First on this very point, hear me declare-- + +OED. I will not hear that thou art not a villain. + +CR. Thine is a shallow judgement, if thou thinkest +Self-will without true thought can bring thee gain. + +OED. Thine is a shallow judgement, if thou thinkest +Thou canst abuse thy kinsman and be free. + +CR. A rightful sentence. But I fain would learn +What wrong is that you speak of? + +OED. Tell me this; +Didst thou, or not, urge me to send and bring +The reverend-seeming prophet? + +CR. Yea, and still +I hold that counsel firm. + +OED. How long is 't now +Since Laius-- + +CR. What? I do not catch your drift. + +OED. Vanished in ruin by a dire defeat? + +CR. 'Twere long to count the years that come between. + +OED. And did this prophet then profess his art? + +CR. Wise then as now, nor less in reverence. + +OED. Then at that season did he mention me? + +CR. Not in my hearing. + +OED. But, I may presume, +Ye held an inquisition for the dead? + +CR. Yes, we inquired, of course: and could not hear. + +OED. Why was he dumb, your prophet, in that day? + +CR. I cannot answer, for I do not know. + +OED. This you can answer, for you know it well. + +CR. Say what? I will not gainsay, if I know. + +OED. That, but for your advice, he had not dared +To talk of Laius' death as done by me. + +CR. You know, that heard him, what he spake. But I +Would ask thee too a question in my turn. + +OED. No questioning will fasten blood on me. + +CR. Hast thou my sister for thine honoured queen? + +OED. The fact is patent, and denial vain. + +CR. And shar'st with her dominion of this realm? + +OED. All she desires is given her by my will. + +CR. Then, am not I third-partner with you twain? + +OED. There is your villany in breaking fealty. + +CR. Not so, if thou wouldst reason with thyself +As I do. First consider one thing well: +Who would choose rule accompanied with fear +Before safe slumbers with an equal sway? +'Tis not my nature, no, nor any man's, +Who follows wholesome thoughts, to love the place +Of domination rather than the power. +Now, without fear, I have my will from thee; +But were I king, I should do much unwillingly. +How then can I desire to be a king, +When masterdom is mine without annoy? +Delusion hath not gone so far with me +As to crave more than honour joined with gain. +Now all men hail me happy, all embrace me; +All who have need of thee, call in my aid; +For thereupon their fortunes wholly turn. +How should I leave this substance for that show? +No man of sense can harbour thoughts of crime. +Such vain ambition hath no charm for me, +Nor could I bear to lend it countenance. +If you would try me, go and ask again +If I brought Phoebus' answer truly back. +Nay more, should I be found to have devised +Aught in collusion with the seer, destroy me, +Not by one vote, but two, mine own with thine. +But do not on a dim suspicion blame me +Of thy mere will. To darken a good name +Without clear cause is heinous wickedness; +And to cast off a worthy friend I call +No less a folly than to fling away +What most we love, the life within our breast. +The certainty of this will come with time; +For time alone can clear the righteous man. +An hour suffices to make known the villain. + +CH. Prudence bids hearken to such words, my lord, +For fear one fall. Swift is not sure in counsel. + +OED. When he who hath designs on me is swift +In his advance, I must bethink me swiftly. +Should I wait leisurely, his work hath gained +Achievement, while my plans have missed success. + +CR. What would you then? To thrust me from the land? + +OED. Nay, death, not exile, is my wish for thee, +When all have seen what envy brings on men. + +[CR. You'll ne'er relent nor listen to my plea.][4] + +OED. You'll ne'er be governed or repent your guilt. + +CR. Because I see thou art blind. + +OED. Not to my need. + +CR. Mine must be thought of too. + +OED. You are a villain. + +CR. How if thy thought be vain? + +OED. Authority +Must be maintained. + +CR. Not when authority +Declines to evil. + +OED. O my citizens! + +CR. I have a part in them no less than you. + +LEADER OF CH. Cease, princes. Opportunely I behold +Jocasta coming toward you from the palace. +Her presence may attune your jarring minds. + +_Enter_ JOCASTA. + +JOCASTA. Unhappy that ye are, why have ye reared +Your wordy rancour 'mid the city's harms? +Have you no shame, to stir up private broils +In such a time as this? Get thee within! (_To_ OED) +And thou too, Creon! nor enlarge your griefs +To make a mountain out of nothingness. + +CR. Sister, thy husband Oedipus declares +One of two horrors he will wreak on me, +Banishment from my native land, or death. + +OED. Yea, for I caught him practising, my queen, +Against our person with malignant guile. + +CR. May comfort fail me, and a withering curse +Destroy me, if I e'er planned aught of this. + +JO. I pray thee, husband, listen to his plea; +Chiefly respecting his appeal to Heaven, +But also me, and these who stand by thee. + +CH. 1. Incline to our request I 1 +Thy mind and heart, O King! + +OED. What would you I should yield unto your prayer? + +CH. 2. Respect one ever wise, +Whose oath protects him now. + +OED. Know ye what thing ye ask? + +CH. 3. I know. + +OED. Then plainly tell. + +CH. 4. Thy friend, who is rendered sacred by his oath, +Rob not of honour through obscure surmise. + +OED. In asking that, you labour for my death +Or banishment. Of this be well assured. + +CH. 5. No, by the Sun I swear, II 1 +Vaunt-courier of the host of heaven. +For may I die the last of deaths, +Unblest of God or friend, +If e'er such thought were mine. +But oh! this pining land +Afflicts my sorrow-burdened soul, +To think that to her past and present woe +She must add this, which springs to her from you. + +OED. Then let him range, though I must die outright, +Or be thrust forth with violence from the land! +--Not for his voice, but thine, which wrings my heart: +He, wheresoe'er he live, shall have my hate. + +CR. You show yourself as sullen when you yield, +As unendurable in your fury's height. +Such natures justly give themselves most pain. + +OED. Let me alone, then, and begone! + +CR. I go, +Untainted in their sight, though thou art blind. [_Exit_ + +CH. 1. Lady, why tarriest thou I 2 +To lead thy husband in? + +JO. Not till I learn what mischief is befallen. + +CH. 2. A dim, unproved debate. +Reproach, though unfounded, stings. + +JO. From both? + +CH. 3. From both alike. + +JO. How caused? + +CH. 4. Enough for me, +Amply enough it seems, when our poor land +Is vexed already, not to wake what sleeps. + +OED. (_to_ LEADER OF CH.). +See where thine honest zeal hath landed thee, +Bating my wrath, and blunting my desire! + +CH. 5. My prince, I say it again: II 2 +Assure thee, I were lost to sense, +Infatuate, void of wholesome thought, +Could I be tempted now +To loose my faith from thee, +Who, when the land I love +Laboured beneath a wildering load, +Didst speed her forth anew with favouring gale. +Now, too, if but thou may'st, be her good guide. + +JO. Let not thy queen be left in ignorance +What cause thou hadst to lift thy wrath so high. + +OED. I'll tell thee, lady, for I honour thee +More than these citizens. 'Twas Creon there, +And his inveterate treason against me. + +JO. Accuse him, so you make the quarrel plain. + +OED. He saith I am the murderer of the King. + +JO. Speaks he from hearsay, or as one who knows? + +OED. He keeps his own lips free: but hath suborned +A rascal soothsayer to this villany. + +JO. Hearken to me, and set your heart at rest +On that you speak of, while I make you learn +No mortal thing is touched by soothsaying. +Of that I'll give thee warrant brief and plain. +Word came to Laius once, I will not say +From Phoebus' self, but from his ministers, +The King should be destroyed by his own son, +If son were born to him from me. What followed? +Laius was slain, by robbers from abroad, +Saith Rumour, in a cross-way! But the child +Lived not three days, ere by my husband's hand +His feet were locked, and he was cast and left +By messengers on the waste mountain wold. +So Phoebus neither brought upon the boy +His father's murder, nor on Laius +The thing he greatly feared, death by his son. +Such issue came of prophesying words. +Therefore regard them not. God can himself +With ease bring forth what for his ends he needs. + +OED. What strange emotions overcloud my soul, +Stirred to her depths on hearing this thy tale! + +JO. What sudden change is this? What cares oppress thee? + +OED. Methought I heard thee say, King Laius +Was at a cross-road overpowered and slain? + +JO. So ran the talk that yet is current here. + +OED. Where was the scene of this unhappy blow? + +JO. Phocis the land is named. The parted ways +Meet in one point from Dauha and from Delphi. + +OED. And since the event how much of time hath flown? + +JO. 'Twas just ere you appeared with prospering speed +And took the kingdom, that the tidings came. + +OED. What are thy purposes against me, Zeus? + +JO. Why broods thy mind upon such thoughts, my king? + +OED. Nay, ask me not! But tell me first what height +Had Laius, and what grace of manly prime? + +JO. Tall, with dark locks just sprinkled o'er with grey: +In shape and bearing much resembling thee. + +OED. O heavy fate! How all unknowingly +I laid that dreadful curse on my own head! + +JO. How? +I tremble as I gaze on thee, my king! + +OED. The fear appals me that the seer can see. +Tell one thing more, to make it doubly clear! + +JO. I am lothe to speak, but, when you ask, I will. + +OED. Had he scant following, or, as princes use, +Full numbers of a well-appointed train? + +JO. There were but five in all: a herald one; +And Laius travelled in the only car. + +OED. Woe! woe! 'Tis clear as daylight. Who was he +That brought you this dire message, O my queen? + +JO. A home-slave, who alone returned alive. + +OED. And is he now at hand within the house? + +JO. No, truly. When he came from yonder scene +And found thee king in room of Laius murdered, +He touched my hand, and made his instant prayer +That I would send him to o'erlook the flocks +And rural pastures, so to live as far +As might be from the very thought of Thebes. +I granted his desire. No servant ever +More richly merited such boon than he. + +OED. Can he be brought again immediately? + +JO. Indeed he can. But why desire it so? + +OED. Words have by me been uttered, O my queen, +That give me too much cause to wish him here. + +JO. Then come he shall. But I may surely claim +To hear what in thy state goes heavily. + +OED. Thou shalt not lose thy rights in such an hour, +When I am harrowed thus with doubt and fear. +To whom more worthy should I tell my grief? +--My father was Corinthian Polybus, +My mother, Dorian Meropè.--I lived +A prince among that people, till a chance +Encountered me, worth wonder, but, though strange, +Not worth the anxious thought it waked in me. +For at a feasting once over the wine +One deep in liquor called aloud to me, +'Hail, thou false foundling of a foster-sire!' +That day with pain I held my passion down; +But early on the morrow I came near +And questioned both my parents, who were fierce +In anger at the man who broached this word. +For their part I was satisfied, but still +It galled me, for the rumour would not die. + Eluding then my parents I made way +To Delphi, where, as touching my desire, +Phoebus denied me; but brake forth instead +With other oracles of misery +And horrible misfortune, how that I +Must know my mother's shame, and cause to appear +A birth intolerable in human view, +And do to death the author of my life. +I fled forth at the word, conjecturing now +Corinthia's region by the stars of heaven, +And wandered, where I never might behold +Those dreadful prophecies fulfilled on me. +So travelling on, I came even to the place +Where, as thou tell'st, the King of Thebè fell. +And, O my wife, I will hide nought from thee. +When I drew near the cross-road of your tale, +A herald, and a man upon a car, +Like your description, there encountered me. +And he who led the car, and he himself +The greybeard, sought to thrust me from the path. +Then in mine angry mood I sharply struck +The driver-man who turned me from the way; +Which when the elder saw, he watched for me +As I passed by, and from the chariot-seat +Smote full upon my head with the fork'd goad; +But got more than he gave; for, by a blow +From this right hand, smit with my staff, he fell +Instantly rolled out of the car supine. +I slew them every one. Now if that stranger +Had aught in common with king Laius, +What wretch on earth was e'er so lost as I? +Whom have the Heavens so followed with their hate? +No house of Theban or of foreigner +Must any more receive me, none henceforth +Must speak to me, but drive me from the door! +I, I have laid this curse on mine own head! +Yea, and this arm that slew him now enfolds +His queen. O cruel stain! Am I not vile? +Polluted utterly! Yes, I must flee, +And, lost to Thebè, nevermore behold +My home, nor tread my country, lest I meet +In marriage mine own mother, and bring low +His head that gave me life and reared my youth, +My father, Polybus. Ah! right were he +Who should declare some god of cruel mood +Had sent this trouble upon my soul! Ye Powers, +Worshipped in holiness, ne'er may I see +That day, but perish from the sight of men, +Ere sins like these be branded on my name! + +CH. Thy fear is ours, O king: yet lose not hope, +Till thou hast heard the witness of the deed. + +OED. Ay, that is all I still have left of hope, +To bide the coming of the shepherd man. + +JO. What eager thought attends his presence here? + +OED. I'll tell thee. Should his speech accord with thine, +My life stands clear from this calamity. + +JO. What word of mine agreed not with the scene? + +OED. You said he spake of robbers in a band +As having slain him. Now if he shall still +Persist in the same number, I am free. +One man and many cannot be the same. +But should he tell of one lone traveller, +Then, unavoidably, this falls on me. + +JO. So 'twas given out by him, be sure of that. +He cannot take it back. Not I alone +But all the people heard him speak it so. +And should he swerve in aught from his first tale, +He ne'er can show the murder of the king +Rightly accordant with the oracle. +For Phoebus said expressly he should fall +Through him whom I brought forth. But that poor babe +Ne'er slew his sire, but perished long before. +Wherefore henceforth I will pursue my way +Regardless of all words of prophecy. + +OED. Wisely resolved. But still send one to bring +The labourer swain, and be not slack in this. + +JO. I will, and promptly. Go we now within! +My whole desire is but to work thy will. [_Exeunt_ + +CHORUS +O may my life be evermore I 1 + Pure in each holy word and deed + By those eternal laws decreed +That pace the sapphire-paven floor! +Children of Heaven, of Ether born, +No mortal knew their natal morn, +Nor may Oblivion's waters deep +E'er lull their wakeful spirit asleep, +Nor creeping Age o'erpower the mighty God +Who far within them holds his unprofaned abode. + +Pride breeds the tyrant: monstrous birth! I 2 + Insolent Pride, if idly nursed + On timeless surfeit, plenty accursed, +Spurning the lowlier tract of Earth +Mounts to her pinnacle,--then falls, +Dashed headlong down sheer mountain walls +To dark Necessity's deep ground, +Where never foothold can be found. +Let wrestlers for my country's glory speed, +God, I thee pray! Be God my helper in all need! + +But if one be, whose bold disdain I 2 +Walks in a round of vapourings vain +And violent acts, regarding not +The Rule of Right, but with proud thought +Scorning the place where Gods have set their seat, +--Made captive by an Evil Doom, +Shorn of that inauspicious bloom, +Let him be shown the path of lawful gain +And taught in holier ways to guide his feet, +Nor with mad folly strain +His passionate arms to clasp things impious to retain. +Who in such courses shall defend his soul +From storms of thundrous wrath that o'er him roll? +If honour to such lives be given, +What needs our choir to hymn the power of Heaven? + +No more to Delphi, central shrine II 2 +Of Earth, I'll seek, for light divine, +Nor visit Abae's mystic fane +Nor travel o'er the well-trod plain +Where thousands throng to famed Olympia's town, +Unless, with manifest accord, +The event fulfil the oracular word. +Zeus, Lord of all! if to eternity +Thou would'st confirm thy kingdom's large renown, +Let not their vauntings high +Evade the sovereign look of the everlasting eye! +They make as though the ancient warning slept +By Laius erst with fear and trembling kept; +Apollo's glory groweth pale, +And holiest rites are prone to faint and fail. + +_Enter_ JOCASTA. + +JO. Princes of Thebes, it came into my thought +To stand before some holy altar-place +With frankincense and garlands. For the king, +Transported by the tempest of his fear, +Runs wild in grief, nor like a man of sense +Reasons of present things from what hath been. +Each tongue o'ermasters him that tells of woe. +Then since my counsels are of no avail, +To thee, for thou art nearest, Lykian God, +I bring my supplication with full hand. +O grant us absolution and relief! +For seeing him, our pilot, so distraught, +Like mariners, we are all amazed with dread. + +_Enter the_ CORINTHIAN SHEPHERD. + +COR. SH. Are ye the men to tell me where to find +The mansion of the sovereign Oedipus? +Or better, where he may himself be found? + +CH. Here is the roof you seek, and he, our lord, +Is there within: and, stranger, thou behold'st +The queenly mother of his royal race. + +COR. SH. May she and hers be alway fortunate! +Still may she crown him with the joys of home! + +JO. Be thou, too, blest, kind sir! Thy gracious tongue +Deserves no less. But tell me what request +Or what intelligence thou bring'st with thee? + +COR. SH. Good tidings for thy house and husband, queen. + +JO. What are they? Who hath sent thee to our hall? + +COR. SH. From Corinth come I, and will quickly tell +What sure will please you; though perchance 'twill grieve. + +JO. What news can move us thus two ways at once? + +COR. SH. 'Twas rumoured that the people of the land +Of Corinth would make Oedipus their king. + +JO. Is ancient Polybus not still in power? + +COR. SH. No. Death confines him in a kingly grave. + +JO. Hold there! How say you? Polybus in his grave? + +COR. SH. May I die for him if I speak not true! + +JO. (_To an attendant_). +Run thou, and tell this quickly to my lord! +Voices of prophecy, where are ye now? +Long time hath Oedipus, a homeless man, +Trembled with fear of slaying Polybus. +Who now lies slain by Fortune, not by him. + +_Enter_ OEDIPUS. + +OED. Jocasta, my dear queen, why didst thou send +To bring me hither from our palace-hall? + +JO. Hear that man's tale, and then consider well +The end of yonder dreadful prophecy. + +OED. Who is the man, and what his errand here? + +JO. He comes from Corinth, to make known to thee +That Polybus, thy father, is no more. + +OED. How, stranger? Let me learn it from thy mouth. + +COR. SH. If my first duty be to make this clear, +Know beyond doubt that he is dead and gone. + +OED. By illness coming o'er him, or by guile? + +COR. SH. Light pressure lays to rest the timeworn frame. + +OED. He was subdued by sickness then, poor soul! + +COR. SH. By sickness and the burden of his years. + +OED. Ah! my Jocasta, who again will heed +The Pythian hearth oracular, and birds +Screaming in air, blind guides! that would have made +My father's death my deed; but he is gone, +Hidden underneath the ground, while I stand hero +Harmless and weaponless:--unless, perchance, +My absence killed him,--so he may have died +Through me. But be that as it may, the grave +That covers Polybus, hath silenced, too, +One voice of prophecy, worth nothing now. + +JO. Did I not tell thee so, long since? + +OED. Thou didst. +But I was drawn to error by my fear. + +JO. Now cast it altogether out of mind. + +OED. Must I not fear my mother's marriage-bed? + +JO. Why should man fear, seeing his course is ruled +By fortune, and he nothing can foreknow? +'Tis best to live at ease as best one may. +Then fear not thou thy mother's nuptial hour. +Many a man ere now in dreams hath lain +With her who bare him. He hath least annoy +Who with such omens troubleth not his mind. + +OED. That word would be well spoken, were not she +Alive that gave me birth. But since she lives, +Though you speak well, yet have I cause for fear. + +JO. Your father's burial might enlighten you. + +OED. It doth. But I am darkened by a life. + +COR. SH. Whose being overshadows thee with fear? + +OED. Queen Meropè, the consort of your king. + +COR. SH. What in her life should make your heart afraid? + +OED. A heaven-sent oracle of dreadful sound. + +COR. SH. May it be told, or must no stranger know? + +OED. Indeed it may. Word came from Phoebus once +That I must know my mother's shame, and shed +With these my hands my own true father's blood. +Wherefore long since my home hath been removed +Far from Corinthos:--not unhappily; +But still 'tis sweet to see a parent's face. + +COR. SH. Did fear of this make thee so long an exile? + +OED. Of this and parricide, my aged friend. + +COR. SH. I came with kind intent--and, dear my lord, +I fain would rid thee from this haunting dread. + +OED. Our gratitude should well reward thy love. + +COR. SH. Hope of reward from thee in thy return +Was one chief motive of my journey hither. + +OED. Return? Not to my parents' dwelling-place! + +COR. SH. Son, 'tis too clear, you know not what you do. + +OED. Wherefore, kind sir? For Heaven's sake teach me this. + +COR. SH. If for these reasons you avoid your home. + +OED. The fear torments me, Phoebus may prove true. + +COR. SH. Lest from your parents you receive a stain? + +OED. That is the life-long torment of my soul. + +COR. SH. Will you be certified your fears are groundless? + +OED. How groundless, if I am my parents' child? + +COR. SH. Because with Polybus thou hast no kin. + +OED. Why? Was not he the author of my life? + +COR. SH. As much as I am, and no more than I. + +OED. How can my father be no more to me +Than who is nothing? + +COR. SH. In begetting thee +Nor I nor he had any part at all. + +OED. Why then did he declare me for his son? + +COR. SH. Because he took thee once a gift from me. + +OED. Was all that love unto a foundling shown? + +COR. SH. Heirless affection so inclined his heart. + +OED. A gift from you! Your purchase, or your child?[5] + +COR. SH. Found in Cithaeron's hollowy wilderness. + +OED. What led your travelling footstep to that ground? + +COR. SH. The flocks I tended grazed the mountain there. + +OED. A shepherd wast thou, and a wandering hind? + +COR. SH. Whatever else, my son, thy saviour then. + +OED. From what didst thou release me or relieve? + +COR. SH. Thine instep bears memorial of the pain. + +OED. Ah! what old evil will thy words disclose? + +COR. SH. Thy feet were pierced. 'Twas I unfastened them. + +OED. So cruel to my tender infancy! + +COR. SH. From this thou hast received thy name. + +OED. By heaven +I pray thee, did my father do this thing, +Or was't my mother? + +COR. SH. That I dare not say. +He should know best who gave thee to my hand. + +OED. Another gave me, then? You did not find me? + +COR. SH. Another herdsman passed thee on to me. + +OED. Can you describe him? Tell us what you know. + +COR. SH. Methinks they called him one of Laius' people. + +OED. Of Laius once the sovereign of this land? + +COR. SH. E'en so. He was a shepherd of his flock. + +OED. And is he still alive for me to see? + +COR. SH. You Thebans are most likely to know that. + +OED. Speak, any one of you in presence here, +Can you make known the swain he tells us of, +In town or country having met with him? +The hour for this discovery is full come. + +CH. Methinks it is no other than the peasant +Whom thou didst seek before to see: but this +Could best be told by queen Jocasta there. + +OED. We lately sought that one should come, my queen. +Know'st thou, is this of whom he speaks the same? + +JO. What matter who? Regard not, nor desire +Even vainly to remember aught he saith. + +OED. When I have found such tokens of my birth, +I must disclose it. + +JO. As you love your life, +By heaven I beg you, search no further here! +The sickness in my bosom is enough. + +OED. Nay, never fear! Were I proved thrice a slave +And waif of bondwomen, you still are noble. + +JO. Yet hearken, I implore you: do not so. + +OED. I cannot hear you. I must know this through. + +JO. With clear perception I advise the best. + +OED. Thy 'best' is still my torment. + +JO. Wretched one, +Never may'st thou discover who thou art! + +OED. Will some one go and bring the herdman hither? +Leave her to revel in her lordly line! + +JO. O horrible! O lost one! This alone +I speak to thee, and no word more for ever. [_Exit_ + +CH. Oedipus, wherefore is Jocasta gone, +Driven madly by wild grief? I needs must fear +Lest from this silence she make sorrow spring. + +OED. Leave her to raise what storm she will. But I +Will persevere to know mine origin, +Though from an humble seed. Her woman's pride +Is shamed, it may be, by my lowliness. +But I, whilst I account myself the son +Of prospering Fortune, ne'er will be disgraced. +For she is my true mother: and the months, +Coheirs with me of the same father, Time, +Have marked my lowness and mine exaltation. +So born, so nurtured, I can fear no change, +That I need shrink to probe this to the root. + [OEDIPUS _remains, and gazes towards the country, + while the_ CHORUS _sing_ + +CHORUS. + If I wield a prophet's might, 1 + Or have sense to search aright, + Cithaeron, when all night the moon rides high, + Loud thy praise shall be confessed, + How upon thy rugged breast, + Thou, mighty mother, nursed'st tenderly + Great Oedipus, and gav'st his being room + Within thy spacious home. + Yea, we will dance and sing + Thy glory for thy kindness to our king. + Phoebus, unto thee we cry, + Be this pleasing in thine eye! + + Who, dear sovereign, gave thee birth, 2 + Of the long lived nymphs of earth? + Say, was she clasped by mountain roving Pan? + Or beguiled she one sweet hour + With Apollo in her bower, + Who loves to trace the field untrod by man? + Or was the ruler of Cyllene's height + The author of thy light? + Or did the Bacchic god, + Who makes the top of Helicon to nod, + Take thee for a foundling care + From his playmates that are there? + +_The_ THEBAN SHEPHERD _is seen approaching, guarded._ + +OED. If haply I, who never saw his face, +Thebans, may guess, methinks I see the hind +Whose coming we have longed for. Both his age, +Agreeing with this other's wintry locks, +Accords with my conjecture, and the garb +Of his conductors is well known to me +As that of mine own people. But methinks [_to_ LEADER of CHORUS] +Thou hast more perfect knowledge in this case, +Having beheld the herdman in the past. + +CH. I know him well, believe me. Laius +Had no more faithful shepherd than this man. + +OED. Corinthian friend, I first appeal to you: +Was't he you spake of? + +COR. SH. 'Twas the man you see. + +OED. Turn thine eyes hither, aged friend, and tell +What I shall ask thee. Wast thou Laius' slave? + +THEB. SH. I was, not bought, but bred within the house. + +OED. What charge or occupation was thy care? + +THEB. SH. Most of my time was spent in shepherding. + +OED. And where didst thou inhabit with thy flock? + +THEB. SH. 'Twas now Cithaeron, now the neighbouring tract. + +OED. And hadst thou there acquaintance of this man? + +THEB. SH. Following what service? What is he you mean? + +OED. The man you see. Hast thou had dealings with him? + +THEB. SH. I cannot bring him all at once to mind. + +COR. SH. No marvel, good my lord. But I will soon +Wake to clear knowledge his oblivious sense. +For sure I am he can recall the time, +When he with his two flocks, and I with one +Beside him, grazed Cithaeron's pasture wide +Good six months' space of three successive years, +From spring to rising of Arcturus; then +For the bleak winter season, I drove mine +To their own folds, he his to Laius' stalls. +Do I talk idly, or is this the truth? + +THEB. SH. The time is far remote. But all is true. + +COR. SH. Well, dost remember having given me then +A child, that I might nurture him for mine? + +THEB. SH. What means thy question? Let me know thy drift. + +COR. SH. Friend, yonder stands the infant whom we knew. + +THEB. SH. Confusion seize thee, and thy evil tongue! + +OED. Check not his speech, I pray thee, for thy words +Call more than his for chastisement, old sir. + +THEB. SH. O my dread lord, therein do I offend? + +OED. Thou wilt not answer him about the child? + +THEB. SH. He knows not what he speaks. His end is vain. + +OED. So! Thou'lt not tell to please us, but the lash +Will make thee tell. + +THEB. SH. By all that's merciful, +Scourge not this aged frame! + +OED. Pinion him straight! + +THEB. SH. Unhappy! wherefore? what is't you would know? + +OED. Gave you this man the child of whom he asks you? + +THEB. SH. I gave it him. Would I had died that hour! + +OED. Speak rightly, or your wish will soon come true. + +THEB. SH. My ruin comes the sooner, if I speak. + +OED. This man will balk us with his baffling prate. + +THEB. SH. Not so. I said long since, 'I gave the child.' + +OED. Whence? Was't your own, or from another's hand? + +THEB. SH. 'Twas not mine own; another gave it me. + +OED. What Theban gave it, from what home in Thebes? + +THEB. SH. O, I implore thee, master, ask no more! + +OED. You perish, if I have to ask again. + +THEB. SH. The child was of the stock of Laius. + +OED. Slave-born, or rightly of the royal line? + +THEB. SH. Ah me! Now comes the horror to my tongue! + +OED. And to mine ear. But thou shalt tell it me! + +THEB. SH. He was given out for Laius' son: but she, +Thy queen, within the palace, best can tell. + +OED. How? Did she give it thee? + +THEB. SH. My lord, she did. + +OED. With what commission? + +THEB. SH. I was to destroy him. + +OED. And could a mother's heart be steeled to this? + +THEB. SH. With fear of evil prophecies. + +OED. What were they? + +THEB. SH. 'Twas said the child should be his father's death. + +OED. What then possessed thee to give up the child +To this old man? + +THEB. SH. Pity, my sovereign lord! +Supposing he would take him far away +Unto the land whence he was come. But he +Preserved him to great sorrow. For if thou +Art he this man hath said, be well assured +Thou bear'st a heavy doom. + +OED. O horrible! +Horrible! All fulfilled, as sunlight clear! +Oh may I nevermore behold the day, +Since proved accursèd in my parentage, +In those I live with, and in him I slew! [_Exeunt_ + +CHORUS. + O mortal tribes of men, I 1 + How near to nothingness +I count you while your lives remain! +What man that lives hath more of happiness +Than to seem blest, and, seeming, fade in night? +O Oedipus, in this thine hour of gloom, +Musing on thee and thy relentless doom, +I call none happy who beholds the light. + + Thou through surpassing skill I 2 + Didst rise to wealth and power, +When thou the monstrous riddling maid didst kill, +And stoodst forth to my country as a tower +To guard from myriad deaths this glorious town; +Whence thou wert called my king, of faultless fame, +In all the world a far-resounded name, +Unparagoned in honour and renown. + +But now to hear of thee, who more distressed? II 1 + Who more acquainted with fierce misery, +Assaulted by disasters manifest, + Than thou in this thy day of agony? +Most noble, most renowned!--Yet one same room + Heard thy first cry, and in thy prime of power, +Received thee, harbouring both bride and groom, + And bore it silently till this dread hour. +How could that furrowing of thy father's field +Year after year continue unrevealed? + +Time hath detected thine unwitting deed, II 2 + Time, who discovers all with eyes of fire, +Accusing thee of living without heed + In hideous wedlock husband, son, and sire. +Ah would that we, thou child of Laius born, + Ah would that we had never seen thee nigh! +E'er since we knew thee who thou art, we mourn + Exceedingly with cries that rend the sky. +For, to tell truth, thou didst restore our life +And gavest our soul sweet respite after strife. + +_Enter_ Messenger. + +MESS. O ye who in this land have ever held +Chief honour, what an object of dire woe +Awaits your eyes, your ears! What piercing grief +Your hearts must suffer, if as kinsmen should +Ye still regard the house of Laius! +Not Phasis, nor the Danube's rolling flood, +Can ever wash away the stain and purge +This mansion of the horror that it hides. +--And more it soon shall give to light, not now +Unconsciously enacted. Of all ill, +Self-chosen sorrows are the worst to bear. + +CH. What hast thou new to add? the weight of grief +From that we know burdens the heart enough. + +MESS. Soon spoken and soon heard is the chief sum. +Jocasta's royal head is sunk in death. + +CH. The hapless queen! What was the fatal cause? + +MESS. Her own determination. You are spared +The worst affliction, not being there to see. +Yet to the height of my poor memory's power +The wretched lady's passion you shall hear. +When she had passed in her hot mood within +The vestibule, straight to the bridal room +She rushes, tearing with both hands her hair. +Then having entered, shutting fast the door, +She called aloud on Laius, long dead, +With anguished memory of that birth of old +Whereby the father fell, leaving his queen +To breed a dreadful brood for his own son. +And loudly o'er the bed she wailed, where she, +In twofold wedlock, hapless, had brought forth +Husband from husband, children from a child. +We could not know the moment of her death, +Which followed soon, for Oedipus with cries +Broke in, and would not let us see her end, +But held our eyes as he careered the hall, +Demanding arms, and where to find his wife,-- +No, not his wife, but fatal mother-croft, +Cropped doubly with himself and his own seed. +And in his rage some god directed him +To find her:--'twas no man of us at hand. +Then with a fearful shout, as following +His leader, he assailed the folding-doors; +And battering inward from the mortised bolts +The bending boards, he burst into the room: +Where high suspended we beheld the queen, +In twisted cordage resolutely swung. +He all at once on seeing her, wretched king! +Undid the pendent noose, and on the ground +Lay the ill-starred queen. Oh, then 'twas terrible +To see what followed--for he tore away +The tiring-pins wherewith she was arrayed, +And, lifting, smote his eyeballs to the root, +Saying, Nevermore should they behold the evil +His life inherited from that past time, +But all in dark henceforth should look upon +Features far better not beheld, and fail +To recognize the souls he had longed to know. +Thus crying aloud, not once but oftentimes +He drave the points into his eyes; and soon +The bleeding pupils moistened all his beard, +Nor stinted the dark flood, but all at once +The ruddy hail poured down in plenteous shower. +Thus from two springs, from man and wife together, +Rose the joint evil that is now o'erflowing. +And the old happiness in that past day +Was truly happy, but the present hour +Hath pain, crime, ruin:--whatsoe'er of ill +Mankind have named, not one is absent here. + +CH. And finds the sufferer now some pause of woe? + +MESS. He bids make wide the portal and display +To all the men of Thebes the man who slew +His father, who unto his mother did +What I dare not repeat, and fain would fling +His body from the land, nor calmly bide +The shock of his own curse on his own hall. +Meanwhile he needs some comfort and some guide, +For such a load of misery who can bear? +Thyself shalt judge: for, lo, the palace-gates +Unfold, and presently thine eyes will see +A hateful sight, yet one thou needs must pity. + +_Enter_ OEDIPUS, _blind and unattended._ + +LEADER OF CH. O horror of the world! +Too great for mortal eye! +More terrible than all I have known of ill! +What fury of wild thought +Came o'er thee? Who in heaven +Hath leapt against thy hapless life +With boundings out of measure fierce and huge? +Ah! wretched one, I cannot look on thee: +No, though I long to search, to ask, to learn. +Thine aspect is too horrible.--I cannot! + +OED. Me miserable! Whither am I borne? +Into what region are these wavering sounds +Wafted on aimless wings? O ruthless Fate! +To what a height thy fury hath soared! + +CH. Too far +For human sense to follow, or human thought +To endure the horror. + +OED. O dark cloud, descending I 1 +Unutterably on me! invincible, +Abhorred, borne onward by too sure a wind. +Woe, woe! +Woe! Yet again I voice it, with such pangs +Both from these piercing wounds I am assailed +And from within through memory of my grief. + +CH. Nay, 'tis no marvel if thy matchless woe +Redouble thine affliction and thy moan! + +OED. Ah! Friend, thou art still constant! Thou remainest I 2 +To tend me and to care for the blind man. +Alas! +I know thee well, nor fail I to perceive, +Dark though I be, thy kind familiar voice. + +CH. How dreadful is thy deed! How couldst thou bear +Thus to put out thine eyes? What Power impelled thee? + +OED. Apollo, dear my friends, Apollo brought to pass II 1 +In dreadful wise, this my calamitous woe. +But I,--no being else,--I with this hand destroyed them. + [_Pointing to his eyes_ +For why should I have sight, +To whom nought now gave pleasure through the eye? + +CH. There speak'st thou truly. + +OED. What could I see, whom hear +With gladness, whom delight in any more? +Lead me away out of the land with speed! +Be rid of the destroyer, the accursed, +Whom most of all the world the Gods abhor. + +CH. O miserable in thy calamity +And not less miserable in thy despair, +Would thou wert still in ignorance of thy birth! + +OED. My curse on him who from the cruel bond II 2 +That held my feet in that high pasture-land +Freed me, and rescued me from murder there, +And saved my life! Vain kindness! Then to have died +Had spared this agony to me and mine. + +CH. Ay, would it had been so! + +OED. Then had I ne'er +Been proved a parricide, ne'er borne the shame +Of marriage bonds incestuous! But now +I am God abandoned, Son of the unholy, +Rival of him who gave me being. Ah woe! +What sorrow beyond sorrows hath chief place? +That sorrow Oedipus must bear! + +LEADER OF CH. I know not how to call thee wise in this: +Thou wert better dead than to be blind and live. + +OED. That this last act hath not been for the best +Instruct me not, nor counsel me again. +How, if I kept my sight, could I have looked +In Hades on my father's countenance, +Or mine all hapless mother, when, toward both, +I have done deeds no death can e'er atone? +Ah! but my children were a sight of joy,-- +Offspring of such a marriage! were they so? +Never, to eyes of mine! nor town, nor tower, +Nor holy shrines o' the gods, which I myself, +Dowered with the fairest life of Theban men, +Have forfeited, alas, by mine own law, +Declaring men should drive from every door +One marked by Heaven as impious and impure, +Nay worse, of Laius born! And was I then, +By mine own edict branded thus, to look +On Theban faces with unaltered eye? +Nay verily, but had there been a way +To stop the hearing fountain through the ear, +I had not faltered, but had closed and barred +Each gate of this poor body, deaf and blind! +So thought might sweetly dwell at rest from ill +Cithaeron! Why didst thou receive me? Why +Not slay me then and there? So had I not +Told to the world the horror of my birth. +O foster home of Corinth and her king, +How bright the life ye cherished, filming o'er +What foulness far beneath! For I am vile, +And vile were both my parents. So 'tis proved +O cross road in the covert of the glen, +O thicket in the gorge where three ways met, +Bedewed by these my hands with mine own blood +From whence I sprang--have ye forgotten me? +Or doth some memory haunt you of the deeds +I did before you, and went on to do +Worse horrors here? O marriage twice accurst! +That gave me being, and then again sent forth +Fresh saplings springing from the selfsame seed, +To amaze men's eyes and minds with dire confusion +Of father, brother, son, bride, mother, wife, +Murder of parents, and all shames that are! +Silence alone befits such deeds. Then, pray you, +Hide me immediately away from men! +Kill me outright, or fling me far to sea, +Where never ye may look upon me more. +Come, lend your hand unto my misery! +Comply, and fear not, for my load of woe +Is incommunicable to all but me. + +CH. With timely presence to fulfil thy need +With act and counsel, Creon comes, who now +Is regent o'er this people in thy room. + +OED. Alas, what shall I say to him? What plea +For my defence will hold? My evil part +Toward him in all the past is clearly proved. + +_Enter_ CREON. + +CR. I come not, Oedipus, to mock thy woes, +Nor to reproach thee for thine evils past. +But ye, (_to_ Chorus) if all respect of mortal eye +Be dead, let awe of the universal flame +Of life's great nourisher, our lord the Sun, +Forbid your holding thus unveiled to view +This huge abomination, which nor Earth +Nor sacred Element, nor light of Heaven +Can once endure. Convey him in with speed. +Religion bids that kindred eyes and ears +Alone should witness kindred crime and woe. + +OED. By Heaven, since thou hast reft away my fear, +So nobly meeting my unworthiness, +I pray thee, hear me for thine own behoof. + +CR. What boon dost thou desire so earnestly? + +OED. Fling me with speediest swiftness from the land, +Where nevermore I may converse with men. + +CR. Doubt not I would have done it, but the God +Must be inquired of, ere we act herein. + +OED. His sacred utterance was express and clear, +The parricide, the unholy, should be slain. + +CR. Ay, so 'twas spoken: but, in such a time, +We needs must be advised more perfectly. + +OED. Will ye then ask him for a wretch like me? + +CR. Yea. For even thou methinks wilt now believe. + +OED. Not only so. But I will charge thee too, +With urgent exhortation, to perform +The funeral rite for her who lies within-- +She is thy kinswoman--howe'er thou wilt. +But never let this city of my sires +Claim me for living habitant! There, there +Leave me to range the mountain, where my nurse, +Cithaeron, echoeth with my name,--Cithaeron, +Which both my parents destined for my tomb. +So my true murderers will be my death. +Yet one thing I can tell. Mine end will come +Not by disease nor ordinary chance +I had not lived when at the point to die, +But for some terrible doom. Then let my fate +Run out its full career. But for my children +Thou, Creon, shalt provide. As for my sons, +I pray thee burden not thyself with them. +They ne'er will lack subsistence--they are men. +But my poor maidens, hapless and forlorn, +Who never had a meal apart from mine, +But ever shared my table, yea, for them +Take heedful care, and grant me, though but once. +Yea, I beseech thee, with these hands to feel, +Thou noble heart! the forms I love so well, +And weep with them our common misery. +Oh, if my arms were round them, I might seem +To have them as of old when I could see-- +What! Am I fooled once more, or do I hear +My dear ones weeping! And hath Creon sent, +Pitying my sorrows, mine own children to me +Whom most I love? Can this be truth I utter? + +CR. Yea, I have done it. For I knew the joy +Thou ever hadst in this, thy comfort now. + +OED. Fair be thy fortune, and, for this last deed, +Heaven guide thee on a better course than mine. +Where are ye, O my children? Come, draw near +To these my hands of brother blood with you, +Hands that have made so piteous to your sight +The darkened gaze of his once brilliant eyes, +Who all in blindness, with no thought of ill, +Became your father at that fount of life, +Where he himself took being! Oh! for you +I weep, not seeing you, when I but think +Of all the bitter passages of fate +That must attend you amongst men. For where +Can ye find fellowship, what civic throng +Shall ye resort unto, what festival, +From whence, instead of sight or sound enjoyed, +Ye will not come in tears unto your home? +And when ye reach the marriageable bloom, +My daughters, who will be the man to cast +His lot with yours, receiving for his own +All those reproaches which have marred the name +Of both my parents and your name no less? +What evil is not here? Your father slew +His father, and then eared the mother field +Where he himself was sown, and got you from +The source of his own birth. Such taunts will fly. +And who will marry you? No man, my daughters; +But ye must wither childless and unwed. +Son of Menoeceus, who alone art left +As father to these maidens, for the pair +That gave them birth are utterly undone, +Suffer them not, being your kinswomen, +To wander desolate and poor, nor make +Their lot perforce the counterpart of mine. +But look on them with pity, left in youth +Forlorn of all protection save from thee. +Noble one, seal this promise with thy hand! +--For you, my children, were ye of an age +To ponder speech, I would have counselled you +Full carefully. Now I would have you pray +To dwell where 'tis convenient, that your life +May find more blessing than your father knew. + +CR. Thou hast had enough of weeping. Close thee in thy chamber walls. + +OED. I must yield, though sore against me. + +CR. Yea, for strong occasion calls. + +OED. Know'st thou on what terms I yield it? + +CR. Tell me, let us hear and know. + +OED. That ye send from the country. + +CR. God alone can let thee go. + +OED. But the Gods long since abhor me. + +CR. Thou wilt sooner gain that boon. + +OED. Then consent. + +CR. 'Tis not my wont to venture promises too soon. + +OED. Lead me now within the palace. + +CR. Come, but leave thy children. + +OED. Nay! +Tear not these from my embraces! + +CR. Hope not for perpetual sway: +Since the power thou once obtainedst ruling with unquestioned might +Ebbing from thy life hath vanished ere the falling of the night. + +LEADER OF CHORUS. +Dwellers in our native Thebè, fix on Oedipus your eyes. +Who resolved the dark enigma, noblest champion and most wise. +Like a star his envied fortune mounted beaming[6] far and wide: +Now he sinks in seas of anguish, whelmed beneath a raging tide. +Therefore, with the old-world sages, waiting for that final day, +I will call no mortal happy, while he holds his house of clay, +Till without one pang of sorrow, all his hours have passed away. + + * * * * * + + + + + ELECTRA + + + THE PERSONS + +An Old Man, _formerly one of the retainers of Agamemnon._ +ORESTES, _son of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra_. +ELECTRA, _sister of Orestes_. +CHORUS _of Argive Women_. +CHRYSOTHEMIS, _sister of Orestes and Electra_. +CLYTEMNESTRA. +AEGISTHUS. + +PYLADES _appears with_ ORESTES, _but does not speak_. + + +SCENE. Mycenae: before the palace of the Pelopidae. + + + + +Agamemnon on his return from Troy, had been murdered by his wife +Clytemnestra and her paramour Aegisthus, who had usurped the Mycenean +throne. Orestes, then a child, had been rescued by his sister Electra, +and sent into Phocis with the one servant who remained faithful to his +old master. The son of Agamemnon now returns, being of a full age, +accompanied by this same attendant and his friend Pylades, with whom +he has already concerted a plan for taking vengeance on his father's +murderers, in obedience to the command of Apollo. + +Orestes had been received in Phocis by Strophius, his father's friend. +Another Phocian prince, named Phanoteus, was a friend of Aegisthus. + + + + + ELECTRA + + +ORESTES _and the_ Old Man--PYLADES _is present._ + +OLD MAN. Son of the king who led the Achaean host +Erewhile beleaguering Troy, 'tis thine to day +To see around thee what through many a year +Thy forward spirit hath sighed for. Argolis +Lies here before us, hallowed as the scene +Of Io's wildering pain: yonder, the mart +Named from the wolf slaying God[1], and there, to our left, +Hera's famed temple. For we reach the bourn +Of far renowned Mycenae, rich in gold +And Pelops' fatal roofs before us rise, +Haunted with many horrors, whence my hand, +Thy murdered sire then lying in his gore, +Received thee from thy sister, and removed +Where I have kept thee safe and nourished thee +To this bright manhood thou dost bear, to be +The avenger of thy father's bloody death. +Wherefore, Orestes, and thou, Pylades, +Dearest of friends, though from a foreign soil, +Prepare your enterprise with speed. Dark night +Is vanished with her stars, and day's bright orb +Hath waked the birds of morn into full song. +Now, then, ere foot of man go forth, ye two +Knit counsels. 'Tis no time for shy delay: +The very moment for your act is come. + +OR. Kind faithful friend, how well thou mak'st appear +Thy constancy in service to our house! +As some good steed, aged, but nobly bred, +Slacks not his spirit in the day of war, +But points his ears to the fray, even so dost thou +Press on and urge thy master in the van. +Hear, then, our purpose, and if aught thy mind, +Keenly attent, discerns of weak or crude +In this I now set forth, admonish me. + I, when I visited the Pythian shrine +Oracular, that I might learn whereby +To punish home the murderers of my sire, +Had word from Phoebus which you straight shall hear: +'No shielded host, but thine own craft, O King! +The righteous death-blow to thine arm shall bring.' +Then, since the will of Heaven is so revealed, +Go thou within, when Opportunity +Shall marshal thee the way, and gathering all +Their business, bring us certain cognizance. +Age and long absence are a safe disguise; +They never will suspect thee who thou art. +And let thy tale be that another land, +Phocis, hath sent thee forth, and Phanoteus, +Than whom they have no mightier help in war. +Then, prefaced with an oath, declare thy news, +Orestes' death by dire mischance, down-rolled +From wheel-borne chariot in the Pythian course. +So let the fable be devised; while we, +As Phoebus ordered, with luxuriant locks +Shorn from our brows, and fair libations, crown +My father's sepulchre, and thence return +Bearing aloft the shapely vase of bronze +That's hidden hard by in brushwood, as thou knowest, +And bring them welcome tidings, that my form +Is fallen ere now to ashes in the fire. +How should this pain me, in pretence being dead, +Really to save myself and win renown? +No saying bodes men ill, that brings them gain. +Oft have I known the wise, dying in word, +Return with glorious salutation home. +So lightened by this rumour shall mine eye +Blaze yet like bale-star on mine enemies. +O native earth! and Gods that hold the land, +Accept me here, and prosper this my way! +Thou, too, paternal hearth! To thee I come, +Justly to cleanse thee by behest from heaven. +Send me not bootless, Gods, but let me found +A wealthy line of fair posterity! +I have spoken. To thy charge! and with good heed +Perform it. We go forth. The Occasion calls, +Great taskmaster of enterprise to men. + +ELECTRA (_within_). Woe for my hapless lot! + +OLD M. Hark! from the doors, my son, methought there came +A moaning cry, as of some maid within. + +OR. Can it be poor Electra? Shall we stay, +And list again the lamentable sound? + +OLD M. Not so. Before all else begin the attempt +To execute Apollo's sovereign will, +Pouring libation to thy sire: this makes +Victory ours, and our success assured. [_Exeunt_ + +_Enter_ ELECTRA. + +MONODY. + +EL. O purest light! +And air by earth alone +Measured and limitable, how oft have ye +Heard many a piercing moan, +Many a blow full on my bleeding breast, +When gloomy night +Hath slackened pace and yielded to the day! +And through the hours of rest, +Ah! well 'tis known +To my sad pillow in yon house of woe, +What vigil of scant joyance keeping, +Whiles all within are sleeping, +For my dear father without stint I groan, +Whom not in bloody fray +The War-god in the stranger-land +Received with hospitable hand, +But she that is my mother, and her groom, +As woodmen fell the oak, +Cleft through the skull with murdering stroke. +And o'er this gloom +No ray of pity, save from only me, +Goes forth on thee, +My father, who didst die +A cruel death of piteous agony. +But ne'er will I +Cease from my crying and sad mourning lay, +While I behold the sky, +Glancing with myriad fires, or this fair day. +But, like some brood-bereavèd nightingale, +With far-heard wail, +Here at my father's door my voice shall sound. +O home beneath the ground! +Hades unseen, and dread Persephonè, +And darkling Hermes, and the Curse revered, +And ye, Erinyës, of mortals feared, +Daughters of Heaven, that ever see +Who die unjustly, who are wronged i' the bed +Of those they wed, +Avenge our father's murder on his foe! +Aid us, and send my brother to my side; +Alone I cannot longer bide +The oppressive strain of strength-o'ermastering woe. + +CHORUS (_entering_). + O sad Electra, child I 1 +Of a lost mother, why still flow +Unceasingly with lamentation wild +For him who through her treachery beguiled, +Inveigled by a wife's deceit, +Fallen at the foul adulterer's feet, +Most impiously was quelled long years ago? +Perish the cause! if I may lawfully pray so. + +EL. O daughters of a noble line, +Ye come to soothe me from my troublous woe. + I see, I know: +Your love is not unrecognized of mine. +But yet I will not seem as I forgot, +Or cease to mourn my hapless father's lot. + Oh, of all love +That ever may you move, +This only boon I crave-- +Leave me to rave! + +CH. Lament, nor praying breath I 2 +Will raise thy sire, our honoured chief, +From that dim multitudinous gulf of death. +Beyond the mark, due grief that measureth, +Still pining with excess of pain +Thou urgest lamentation vain, +That from thy woes can bring thee no relief. +Why hast thou set thy heart on unavailing grief? + +EL. Senseless were he who lost from thought +A noble father, lamentably slain! + I love thy strain, +Bewildered mourner, bird divinely taught, +For 'Itys,' 'Itys,' ever heard to pine. +O Niobè, I hold thee all divine, + Of sorrows queen, +Who with all tearful mien +Insepulchred in stone +Aye makest moan. + +CH. Not unto thee alone hath sorrow come, II 1 +Daughter, that thou shouldst carry grief so far +Beyond those dwellers in the palace-home + Who of thy kindred are +And own one source with thee. + What life hath she, +Chrysothemis, and Iphianassa bright, + And he whose light +Is hidden afar from taste of horrid doom, +Youthful Orestes, who shall come +To fair Mycenae's glorious town, +Welcomed as worthy of his sire's renown, +Sped by great Zeus with kindly thought, +And to this land with happiest omen brought? + +EL. Awaiting him I endlessly endure; +Unwed and childless still I go, + With tears in constant flow, +Girt round with misery that finds no cure. +But he forgets his wrong and all my teaching. +What message have I sent beseeching, +But baffled flies back idly home? +Ever he longs, he saith, but, longing, will not come. + +CH. Take heart, dear child! still mighty in the sky II 2 +Is Zeus who ruleth all things and surveys. +Commit to him thy grief that surgeth high, + And walk in safer ways, +Let not hate vex thee sore, + Nor yet ignore +The cause of hate and sorrow in thy breast. + Time bringeth rest: +All is made easy through his power divine. +The heir of Agamemnon's line +Who dwells by Crisa's pastoral strand +Shall yet return unto his native land; +And he shall yet regard his own +Who reigns beneath upon his Stygian throne. + +EL. Meanwhile my life falls from me in despair +Years pass and patience nought avails: + My heart within me fails: +Orphaned I pine without protecting care; +And like a sojourner all unregarded +At slave-like labour unrewarded +I toil within my father's hall +Thus meanly attired, and starved, a table-serving thrall. + +CH. Sad was thy greeting when he reached the strand, III 1 +Piteous thy crying where thy father lay + On that fell day +When the bronze edge with dire effect was driven. + By craft 'twas planned, +By frenzied lust the blow was given: +Mother and father of a monstrous birth, +Whether a God there wrought or mortal of the Earth. + +EL. O day beyond all days that yet have rolled +Most hateful in thy course of light! + O horror of that night! +O hideous feast, abhorr'd, not to be told! +How could I bear it, when my father's eye +Saw death advancing from the ruthless pair, +Conjoint in cruel villany, +By whom my life was plunged in black despair? +Oh, to the workers of such deeds as these + May great Olympus' Lord +Return of evil still afford, +Nor let them wear the gloss of sovran ease! + +CH. Take thought to keep thy crying within bound. III 2 +Doth not thy sense enlighten thee to see + How recklessly +Even now thou winnest undeservèd woe? + Still art thou found +To make thy misery overflow +Through self-bred gloomy strife. But not for long +Shall one alone prevail who strives against the strong. + +EL. 'Twas dire oppression taught me my complaint +I know my rage a quenchless fire: + But nought, however dire, +Shall visit this my frenzy with restraint, +Or check my lamentation while I live. +Dear friends, kind women of true Argive breed, +Say, who can timely counsel give +Or word of comfort suited to my need? +Beyond all cure shall this my cause be known. + No counsels more! Ah leave, +Vain comforters, and let me grieve +With ceaseless pain, unmeasured in my moan. + +CH. With kind intent IV +Full tenderly my words are meant; +Like a true mother pressing heart to heart, +I pray thee, do not aggravate thy smart. + +EL. But have my miseries a measure? Tell. + Can it be well +To pour forgetfulness upon the dead? + Hath mortal head +Conceived a wickedness so bold? +O never may such brightness shine for me, + Nor let me peaceful be +With aught of good my life may still enfold, +If from wide echoing of my father's name +The wings of keen lament I must withhold. + Sure holy shame +And pious care would vanish among men, +If he, mere earth and nothingness, must lie +In darkness, and his foes shall not again +Render him blood for blood in amplest penalty. + +LEADER OF CH. Less from our own desires, my child, we came, +Than for thy sake. But, if we speak amiss, +Take thine own course. We still will side with thee. + +EL. Full well I feel that too impatiently +I seem to multiply the sounds of woe. +Yet suffer me, dear women! Mighty force +Compels me. Who that had a noble heart +And saw her father's cause, as I have done, +By day and night more outraged, could refrain? +Are my woes lessening? Are they not in bloom?-- +My mother full of hate and hateful proved, +Whilst I in my own home must dwell with these, +My father's murderers, and by them be ruled, +Dependent on their bounty even for bread. +And then what days suppose you I must pass, +When I behold Aegisthus on the throne +That was my father's; when I see him wear +Such robes, and pour libations by the hearth +Where he destroyed him; lastly, when I see +Their crowning insolence,--our regicide +Laid in my father's chamber beside her, +My mother--if she still must bear the name +When resting in those arms? Her shame is dead. +She harbours with blood-guiltiness, and fears +No vengeance, but, as laughing at the wrong, +She watches for the hour wherein with guile +She killed our sire, and orders dance and mirth +That day o' the month, and joyful sacrifice +Of thanksgiving. But I within the house +Beholding, weep and pine, and mourn that feast +Of infamy, called by my father's name, +All to myself; for not even grief may flow +As largely as my spirit would desire. +That so-called princess of a noble race +O'ercrows my wailing with loud obloquy: +'Hilding! are you alone in grief? Are none +Mourning for loss of fathers but yourself? +'Fore the blest Gods! ill may you thrive, and ne'er +Find cure of sorrow from the powers below!' +So she insults: unless she hear one say +'Orestes will arrive': then standing close, +She shouts like one possessed into mine ear, +'These are your doings, this your work, I trow. +You stole Orestes from my gripe, and placed +His life with fosterers; but you shall pay +Full penalty.' So harsh is her exclaim. +And he at hand, the husband she extols, +Hounds on the cry, that prince of cowardice, +From head to foot one mass of pestilent harm. +Tongue-doughty champion of this women's-war. +I, for Orestes ever languishing +To end this, am undone. For evermore +Intending, still delaying, he wears out +All hope, both here and yonder. How, then, friends, +Can I be moderate, or feel the touch +Of holy resignation? Evil fruit +Cannot but follow on a life of ill. + +CH. Say, is Aegisthus near while thus you speak? +Or hath he left the palace? We would know. + +EL. Most surely. Never think, if he were by, +I could stray out of door. He is abroad. + +CH. Then with less fear I may converse with thee. + +EL. Ask what you will, for he is nowhere near. + +CH. First of thy brother I beseech thee tell, +How deem'st thou? Will he come, or still delay? + +EL. His promise comes, but still performance sleeps. + +CH. Well may he pause who plans a dreadful deed. + +EL. I paused not in his rescue from the sword. + +CH. Fear not. He will bestead you. He is true. + +EL. But for that faith my life had soon gone by. + +CH. No more! I see approaching from the house +Thy sister by both parents of thy blood, +Chrysothemis; in her hand an offering, +Such as old custom yields to those below. + +_Enter_ CHRYSOTHEMIS. + +CHRYSOTHEMIS. What converse keeps thee now beyond the gates, +Dear sister? why this talk in the open day? +Wilt thou not learn after so long to cease +From vain indulgence of a bootless rage? +I know in my own breast that I am pained +By what thou griev'st at, and if I had power, +My censure of their deeds would soon be known. +But in misfortune I have chosen to sail +With lowered canvas, rather than provoke +With puny strokes invulnerable foes. +I would thou didst the like: though I must own +The right is on thy side, and not on mine. +But if I mean to dwell at liberty, +I must obey in all the stronger will. + +EL. 'Tis strange and pitiful, thy father's child +Can leave him in oblivion and subserve +The mother. All thy schooling of me springs +From her suggestion, not of thine own wit. +Sure, either thou art senseless, or thy sense +Deserts thy friends. Treason or dulness then? +Choose!--You declared but now, if you had strength, +You would display your hatred of this pair. +Yet, when I plan full vengeance for my sire, +You aid me not, but turn me from the attempt. +What's this but adding cowardice to evil? +For tell me, or be patient till I show, +What should I gain by ceasing this my moan? +I live to vex them:--though my life be poor, +Yet that suffices, for I honour him, +My father,--if affection touch the dead. +You say you hate them, but belie your word, +Consorting with our father's murderers. +I then, were all the gifts in which you glory +Laid at my feet, will never more obey +This tyrant power. I leave you your rich board +And life of luxury. Ne'er be it mine[2] to feed +On dainties that would poison my heart's peace! +I care not for such honour as thou hast. +Nor wouldst thou care if thou wert wise. But now, +Having the noblest of all men for sire, +Be called thy mother's offspring; so shall most +Discern thine infamy and traitorous mind +To thy dead father and thy dearest kin. + +CH. No anger, we entreat. Both have said well, +If each would learn of other, and so do. + +CHR. For my part, women, use hath seasoned me +To her discourse. Nor had I spoken of this, +Had I not heard a horror coming on +That will restrain her from her endless moan. + +EL. Come speak it forth, this terror! I will yield, +If thou canst tell me worse than I endure. + +CHR. I'll tell thee all I know. If thou persist +In these thy wailings, they will send thee far +From thine own land, and close thee from the day, +Where in a rock-hewn chamber thou may'st chant +Thine evil orisons in darkness drear. +Think of it, while there 's leisure to reflect; +Or if thou suffer, henceforth blame me not. + +EL. And have they so determined on my life? + +CHR. 'Tis certain; when Aegisthus comes again. + +EL. If that be all, let him return with speed! + +CHR. Unhappy! why this curse upon thyself? + +EL. If this be their intent, why, let him come! + +CHR. To work such harm on thee! What thought is this! + +EL. Far from mine eye to banish all your brood. + +CHR. Art not more tender of the life thou hast? + +EL. Fair, to a marvel, is my life, I trow! + +CHR. It would be, couldst thou be advised for good. + +EL. Never advise me to forsake my kin. + +CHR. I do not: only to give place to power. + +EL. Thine be such flattery. 'Tis not my way. + +CHR. Sure, to be wrecked by rashness is not well. + +EL. Let me be wrecked in 'venging my own sire. + +CHR. I trust his pardon for my helplessness. + +EL. Such talk hath commendation from the vile. + +CHR. Wilt thou not listen? Wilt thou ne'er be ruled? + +EL. No; not by thee! Let me not sink so low. + +CHR. Then I will hie me on mine errand straight. + +EL. Stay; whither art bound? For whom to spend those gifts? + +CHR. Sent by my mother to my father's tomb +To pour libations to him. + +EL. How? To him? +Most hostile to her of all souls that are? + +CHR. Who perished by her hand--so thou wouldst say. + +EL. What friend hath moved her? Who hath cared for this? + +CHR. Methinks 'twas some dread vision, seen by night. + +EL. Gods of my father, O be with me now! + +CHR. What? art thou hopeful from the fear I spake of? + +EL. Tell me the dream, and I will answer thee. + +CHR. I know but little of it. + +EL. Speak but that. +A little word hath ofttimes been the cause +Of ruin or salvation unto men. + +CHR. 'Tis said she saw our father's spirit come +Once more to visit the abodes of light; +Then take and firmly plant upon the hearth +The sceptre which he bore of old, and now +Aegisthus bears: and out of this upsprang +A burgeoned shoot, that shadowed all the ground +Of loved Mycenae. So I heard the tale +Told by a maid who listened when the Queen +Made known her vision to the God of Day. +But more than this I know not, save that I +Am sent by her through terror of the dream. +And I beseech thee by the Gods we serve +To take my counsel and not rashly fall. +If thou repel me now, the time may come +When suffering shall have brought thee to my side. + +EL. Now, dear Chrysothemis, of what thou bearest +Let nothing touch his tomb. 'Tis impious +And criminal to offer to thy sire +Rites and libations from a hateful wife. +Then cast them to the winds, or deep in dust +Conceal them, where no particle may reach +His resting-place: but lie in store for her +When she goes underground. Sure, were she not +Most hardened of all women that have been, +She ne'er had sent those loveless offerings +To grace the sepulchre of him she slew. +For think how likely is the buried king +To take such present kindly from her hand, +Who slew him like an alien enemy, +Dishonoured even in death, and mangled him, +And wiped the death-stain with his flowing locks-- +Sinful purgation! Think you that you bear +In those cold gifts atonement for her guilt? +It is not possible. Wherefore let be. +But take a ringlet from thy comely head, +And this from mine, that lingers on my brow[3] +Longing to shade his tomb. Ah, give it to him, +All I can give, and this my maiden-zone, +Not daintily adorned, as once erewhile. +Then, humbly kneeling, pray that from the ground +He would arise to help us 'gainst his foes, +And grant his son Orestes with high hand +Strongly to trample on his enemies; +That in our time to come from ampler stores +We may endow him, than are ours to-day. +I cannot but imagine that his will +Hath part in visiting her sleep with fears. +But howsoe'er, I pray thee, sister mine, +Do me this service, and thyself, and him, +Dearest of all the world to me and thee, +The father of us both, who rests below. + +CH. She counsels piously; and thou, dear maid, +If thou art wise, wilt do her bidding here. + +CHR. Yea, when a thing is right, it is not well +Idly to wrangle, but to act with speed. +Only, dear friends, in this mine enterprise, +Let me have silence from your lips, I pray; +For should my mother know of it, sharp pain +Will follow yet my bold adventurous feat. [_Exit_ CHRYSOTHEMIS + +CHORUS. + An erring seer am I, I 1 + Of sense and wisdom lorn, + If this prophetic Power of right, + O'ertaking the offender, come not nigh + Ere many an hour be born. + Yon vision of the night, + That lately breathed into my listening ear, + Hath freed me, O my daughter, from all fear. + Sweet was that bodement. He doth not forget, + The Achaean lord that gave thee being, nor yet + The bronzen-griding axe, edged like a spear, + Hungry and keen, though dark with stains of time, + That in the hour of hideous crime + Quelled him with cruel butchery: + That, too, remembers, and shall testify. + + From ambush deep and dread I 2 + With power of many a hand + And many hastening feet shall spring + The Fury of the adamantine tread, + Visiting Argive land + Swift recompense to bring + For eager dalliance of a blood-stained pair + Unhallowed, foul, forbidden. No omen fair,-- + Their impious course hath fixed this in my soul,-- + Nought but black portents full of blame shall roll + Before their eyes that wrought or aided there. + Small force of divination would there seem + In prophecy or solemn dream, + Should not this vision of the night + Reach harbour in reality aright. + + O chariot-course of Pelops, full of toil[4]! II + How wearisome and sore + Hath been thine issue to our native soil!-- + Since, from the golden oar + Hurled to the deep afar, + Myrtilus sank and slept, + Cruelly plucked from that fell chariot-floor, + This house unceasingly hath kept + Crime and misfortune mounting evermore. + +_Enter_ CLYTEMNESTRA. + +CLYTEMNESTRA. Again you are let loose and range at will. +Ay, for Aegisthus is not here, who barred +Your rashness from defaming your own kin +Beyond the gates. But now he's gone from home, +You heed not me: though you have noised abroad +That I am bold in crime, and domineer +Outrageously, oppressing thee and thine. +I am no oppressor, but I speak thee ill, +For thou art ever speaking ill of me-- +Still holding forth thy father's death, that I +Have done it. So I did: I know it well: +That I deny not; for not I alone +But Justice slew him; and if you had sense, +To side with Justice ought to be your part. +For who but he of all the Greeks, your sire, +For whom you whine and cry, who else but he +Took heart to sacrifice unto the Gods +Thy sister?--having less of pain, I trow, +In getting her, than I, that bore her, knew! +Come, let me question thee! On whose behalf +Slew he my child? Was 't for the Argive host? +What right had they to traffic in my flesh?-- +Menelaüs was his brother. Wilt thou say +He slew my daughter for his brother's sake? +How then should he escape me? Had not he, +Menelaüs, children twain, begotten of her +Whom to reclaim that army sailed to Troy? +Was Death then so enamoured of my seed, +That he must feast thereon and let theirs live? +Or was the God-abandoned father's heart +Tender toward them and cruel to my child? +Doth this not argue an insensate sire? +I think so, though your wisdom may demur. +And could my lost one speak, she would confirm it. +For my part, I can dwell on what I have done +Without regret. You, if you think me wrong, +Bring reasons forth and blame me to my face! + +EL. Thou canst not say this time that I began +And brought this on me by some taunting word. +But, so you'd suffer me, I would declare +The right both for my sister and my sire. + +CLY. Thou hast my sufferance. Nor would hearing vex, +If ever thus you tuned your speech to me. + +EL. Then I will speak. You say you slew him. Where +Could there be found confession more depraved, +Even though the cause were righteous? But I'll prove +No rightful vengeance drew thee to the deed, +But the vile bands of him you dwell with now. +Or ask the huntress Artemis, what sin +She punished, when she tied up all the winds +Round Aulis.--I will tell thee, for her voice +Thou ne'er may'st hear! 'Tis rumoured that my sire, +Sporting within the goddess' holy ground, +His foot disturbed a dappled hart, whose death +Drew from his lips some rash and boastful word. +Wherefore Latona's daughter in fell wrath +Stayed the army, that in quittance for the deer +My sire should slay at the altar his own child. +So came her sacrifice. The Achaean fleet +Had else no hope of being launched to Troy +Nor to their homes. Wherefore, with much constraint +And painful urging of his backward will, +Hardly he yielded;--not for his brother's sake. +But grant thy speech were sooth, and all were done +In aid of Menelaüs; for this cause +Hadst thou the right to slay him? What high law +Ordaining? Look to it, in establishing +Such precedent thou dost not lay in store +Repentance for thyself. For if by right +One die for one, thou first wilt be destroyed +If Justice find thee.--But again observe +The hollowness of thy pretended plea. +Tell me, I pray, what cause thou dost uphold +In doing now the basest deed of all, +Chambered with the blood-guilty, with whose aid +Thou slewest our father in that day. For him +You now bear children--ousting from their right +The stainless offspring of a holy sire. +How should this plead for pardon? Wilt thou say +Thus thou dost 'venge thy daughter's injury? +O shameful plea? Where is the thought of honour, +If foes are married for a daughter's sake?-- +Enough. No words can move thee. Thy rash tongue +With checkless clamour cries that we revile +Our mother. Nay, no mother, but the chief +Of tyrants to us! For my life is full +Of weariness and misery from thee +And from thy paramour. While he abroad, +Orestes, our one brother, who escaped +Hardly from thy attempt, unhappy boy! +Wears out his life, victim of cross mischance. +Oft hast thou taunted me with fostering him +To be thy punisher. And this, be sure, +Had I but strength, I had done. Now for this word, +Proclaim me what thou wilt,--evil in soul, +Or loud in cursing, or devoid of shame: +For if I am infected with such guilt, +Methinks my nature is not fallen from thine. + +CH. (_looking at_ CLYTEMNESTRA). +I see her fuming with fresh wrath: the thought +Of justice enters not her bosom now. + +CLY. What thought of justice should be mine for her, +Who at her age can so insult a mother? +Will shame withhold her from the wildest deed? + +EL. Not unashamed, assure thee, I stand here, +Little as thou mayest deem it. Well I feel +My acts untimely and my words unmeet. +But your hostility and treatment force me +Against my disposition to this course. +Harsh ways are taught by harshness. + +CLY. Brazen thing! +Too true it is that words and deeds of mine +Are evermore informing thy harsh tongue. + +EL. The shame is yours, because the deeds are yours. +My words are but their issue and effect. + +CLY. By sovereign Artemis, whom still I serve, +You'll rue this boldness when Aegisthus comes. + +EL. See now, your anger bears you off, and ne'er +Will let you listen, though you gave me leave. + +CLY. Must I not even sacrifice in peace +From your harsh clamour, when you've had your say? + +EL. I have done. I check thee not. Go, sacrifice! +Accuse not me of hindering piety. + +CLY. (_to an attendant_). +Then lift for me those fruitful offerings, +While to Apollo, before whom we stand, +I raise my supplication for release +From doubts and fears that shake my bosom now. +And, O defender of our house! attend +My secret utterance. No friendly ear +Is that which hearkens for my voice. My thought +Must not be blazoned with her standing by, +Lest through her envious and wide-babbling tongue +She fill the city full of wild surmise. +List, then, as I shall speak: and grant the dreams +Whose two-fold apparition I to-night +Have seen, if good their bodement, be fulfilled: +If hostile, turn their influence on my foes. +And yield not them their wish that would by guile +Thrust me from this high fortune, but vouchsafe +That ever thus exempt from harms I rule +The Atridae's home and kingdom, in full life, +Partaking with the friends I live with now +All fair prosperity, and with my children, +Save those who hate and vex me bitterly. +Lykeian Phoebus, favourably hear +My prayer, and grant to all of us our need! +More is there, which, though I be silent here, +A God should understand. No secret thing +Is hidden from the all-seeing sons of Heaven. + +_Enter the_ Old Man. + +OLD M. Kind dames and damsels, may I clearly know +If these be King Aegisthus' palace-halls? + +CH. They are, sir; you yourself have guessed aright. + +OLD M. May I guess further that in yonder dame +I see his queen? She looks right royally. + +CH. 'Tis she,--no other,--whom your eyes behold. + +OLD M. Princess, all hail! To thee and to thy spouse +I come with words of gladness from a friend. + +CLY. That auspice I accept. But I would first +Learn from thee who of men hath sent thee forth? + +OLD M. Phanoteus the Phocian, with a charge of weight. + +CLY. Declare it, stranger. Coming from a friend, +Thou bring'st us friendly tidings, I feel sure. + +OLD M. Orestes' death. Ye have the sum in brief. + +EL. Ah me! undone! This day hath ruined me. + +CLY. What? Let me hear again. Regard her not. + +OLD M. Again I say it, Orestes is no more. + +EL. Undone! undone! Farewell to life and hope! + +CLY. (_to_ ELECTRA). +See thou to thine own case! (_To_ Old Man) Now, stranger, tell me +In true discourse the manner of his death. + +OLD M. For that I am here, and I will tell the whole. +He, entering on the great arena famed +As Hellas' pride, to win a Delphian prize, +On hearing the loud summons of the man +Calling the foot-race, which hath trial first, +Came forward, a bright form, admired by all. +And when his prowess in the course fulfilled +The promise of his form, he issued forth +Dowered with the splendid meed of victory.-- +To tell a few out of the many feats +Of such a hero were beyond my power. +Know then, in brief, that of the prizes set +For every customary course proclaimed +By order of the judges, the whole sum +Victoriously he gathered, happy deemed +By all; declared an Argive, and his name +Orestes, son of him who levied once +The mighty armament of Greeks for Troy. +So fared he then: but when a God inclines +To hinder happiness, not even the strong +Are scatheless. So, another day, when came +At sunrise the swift race of charioteers, +He entered there with many a rival car:-- +One from Achaia, one from Sparta, two +Libyan commanders of the chariot-yoke; +And he among them fifth, with steeds of price +From Thessaly;--the sixth Aetolia sent +With chestnut mares; the seventh a Magnete man; +The eighth with milk-white colts from Oeta's vale; +The ninth from god-built Athens; and the tenth +Boeotia gave to make the number full. +Then stood they where the judges of the course +Had posted them by lot, each with his team; +And sprang forth at the brazen trumpet's blare. +Shouting together to their steeds, they shook +The reins, and all the course was filled with noise +Of rattling chariots, and the dust arose +To heaven. Now all in a confusèd throng +Spared not the goad, each eager to outgo +The crowded axles and the snorting steeds; +For close about his nimbly circling wheels +And stooping sides fell flakes of panted foam. +Orestes, ever nearest at the turn, +With whirling axle seemed to graze the stone, +And loosing with free rein the right-hand steed +That pulled the side-rope[5], held the near one in. + So for a time all chariots upright moved, +But soon the Oetaean's hard-mouthed horses broke +From all control, and wheeling as they passed +From the sixth circuit to begin the seventh, +Smote front to front against the Barcan car. +And when that one disaster had befallen, +Each dashed against his neighbour and was thrown, +Till the whole plain was strewn with chariot-wreck. +Then the Athenian, skilled to ply the rein, +Drew on one side, and heaving to, let pass +The rider-crested surge that rolled i' the midst. +Meanwhile Orestes, trusting to the end, +Was driving hindmost with tight rein; but now, +Seeing him left the sole competitor, +Hurling fierce clamour through his steeds, pursued: +So drave they yoke by yoke--now this, now that +Pulling ahead with car and team. Orestes, +Ill-fated one, each previous course had driven +Safely without a check, but after this, +In letting loose again the left-hand rein[6], +He struck the edge of the stone before he knew, +Shattering the axle's end, and tumbled prone, +Caught in the reins[7], that dragged him with sharp thongs. +Then as he fell to the earth the horses swerved, +And roamed the field. The people when they saw +Him fallen from out the car, lamented loud +For the fair youth, who had achieved before them +Such glorious feats, and now had found such woe,-- +Dashed on the ground, then tossed with legs aloft +Against the sky,--until the charioteers, +Hardly restraining the impetuous team, +Released him, covered so with blood that none,-- +No friend who saw--had known his hapless form. +Which then we duly burned upon the pyre. +And straightway men appointed to the task +From all the Phocians bear his mighty frame-- +Poor ashes! narrowed in a brazen urn,-- +That he may find in his own fatherland +His share of sepulture.--Such our report, +Painful to hear, but unto us, who saw, +The mightiest horror that e'er met mine eye. + +CH. Alas! the stock of our old masters, then, +Is utterly uprooted and destroyed. + +CLY. O heavens! what shall I say? That this is well? +Or terrible, but gainful? Hard my lot, +To save my life through my calamity! + +OLD M. Lady, why hath my speech disheartened thee? + +CLY. To be a mother hath a marvellous power: +No injury can make one hate one's child. + +OLD M. Then it should seem our coming was in vain. + +CLY. In vain? Nay, verily; thou, that hast brought +Clear evidences of his fate, who, sprung +Prom my life's essence, severed from my breast +And nurture, was estranged in banishment, +And never saw me from the day he went +Out from this land, but for his father's blood +Threatened me still with accusation dire; +That sleep nor soothed at night nor sweetly stole +My senses from the day, but, all my time, +Each instant led me on the way to death!-- +But this day's chance hath freed me from all fear +Of him, and of this maid: who being at home +Troubled me more, and with unmeasured thirst +Kept draining my life-blood; but now her threats +Will leave us quiet days, methinks, and peace +Unbroken.--How then shouldst thou come in vain? + +EL. O misery! 'Tis time to wail thy fate, +Orestes, when, in thy calamity, +Thy mother thus insults thee. Is it well? + +CLY. 'Tis well that he is gone, not that you live. + +EL. Hear, 'venging spirits of the lately dead! + +CLY. The avenging spirits have heard and answered well. + +EL. Insult us now, for thou art fortunate! + +CLY. You and Orestes are to quench my pride. + +EL. Our pride is quenched. No hope of quenching thee! + +CLY. A world of good is in thy coming, stranger, +Since thou hast silenced this all-clamorous tongue. + +OLD M. Then I may go my way, seeing all is well. + +CLY. Nay, go not yet! That would disgrace alike +Me and the friend who sent you to our land. +But come thou in, and leave her out of door +To wail her own and loved ones' overthrow. + [_Exeunt_ CLYTEMNESTRA _and_ Old Man + +EL. Think you the wretch in heartfelt agony +Weeps inconsolably her perished son? +She left us with a laugh! O misery! +How thou hast ruined me, dear brother mine, +By dying! Thou hast torn from out my heart +The only hope I cherished yet, that thou +Living wouldst come hereafter to avenge +Thy father's woes and mine. Where must I go? +Since I am left of thee and of my sire +Bereaved and lonely, and once more must be +The drudge and menial of my bitterest foes, +My father's murderers. Say, is it well? +Nay, nevermore will I consort with these, +But sinking here before the palace gate, +Thus, friendless, I will wither out my life. +Hereat if any in the house be vexed, +Let them destroy me; for to take my life +Were kindness, and to live is only pain: +Life hath not kindled my desires with joy. + +CH. 1. O ever-blazing sun! I 1 + O lightning of the eternal Sire! + Can ye behold this done + And tamely hide your all-avenging fire? + +EL. Ah me! + +CH. 2. My daughter, why these tears? + +EL. Woe! + +CH. 3. Weep not, calm thy fears. + +EL. You kill me. + +CH. 4. How? + +EL. To breathe + A hope for one beneath + So clearly sunk in death, + 'Tis to afflict me more + Already pining sore. + +CH. 5. One in a woman's toils I 2 +Was tangled[8], buried by her glittering coils, +Who now beneath-- + +EL. Ah woe! + +CH. 6. Rules with a spirit unimpaired and strong. + +EL. O dreadful! + +CH. 7. Dreadful was the wrong. + +EL. But she was quelled. + +CH. 8. Ay. + +EL. True! +That faithful mourner knew +A brother's aid. But I +Have no man now. The one +I had, is gone, is gone. +Rapt into nothingness. + +CH. 9. Thou art wrung with sore distress. II 1 + +EL. I know it. Too well I know, +Taught by a life of woe, +Where horror dwells without relief. + +CH. 10. Our eyes have seen thy grief. + +EL. Then comfort not again-- + +CH. 11. Whither now turns thy strain? + +EL. One utterly bereft, +Seeing no hope is left, +Of help from hands owning the same great sire. + +CH. 12. 'Tis nature's debt. II 2 + +EL. To expire + On sharp-cut dragging thongs, + 'Midst wildly trampling throngs + Of swiftly racing hoofs, like him, + Poor hapless one? + +CH. 13. Vast, dim, + And boundless was the harm. + +EL. Yea, severed from mine arm, + By strangers kept-- + +CH. 14. O pain! + +EL. Hidden he must remain, + Of me unsepulchred, unmourned, unwept. + +_Enter_ CHRYSOTHEMIS. + +CHR. Driven by delight, dear sister, I am come, +Reckless of dignity, with headlong speed. +For news I bear of joy and sweet relief +From ills that drew from thee thy ceaseless moan. + +EL. Whence couldst thou hear of succour for my woes, +That close in darkness without hope of dawn? + +CHR. Here is Orestes, learn it from my mouth, +As certainly as you now look on me. + +EL. What? Art thou mad, unhappy one, to laugh +Over thine own calamity and mine? + +CHR. No, by our father's hearth, I say not this +In mockery. I tell you he is come. + +EL. Me miserable! Who hath given thine ear +The word that so hath wrought on thy belief? + +CHR. Myself am the eyewitness, no one else +Gained my belief, but proofs I clearly saw. + +EL. What sign hath so engrossed thine eye, poor girl? +What sight hath fired thee with this quenchless glow? + +CHR. But list to me, I pray thee, that henceforth +Thou mayest account me clear eyed, or a fool! + +EL. By all means, if it pleasure thee, say on. + +CHR. Well, I will tell thee all I saw:--I came +Unto the ancient tomb that holds our sire; +And from the topmost mound I marked a stream +Of milk fresh-flowing, and his resting place +Ringed round with garlands of all flowers that blow. +I marvelled at the sight, and peered about, +Lest some one might be nearer than we knew. +But finding all was quiet in the spot, +I ventured closer to the tomb, and there, +Hard by the limit, I beheld a curl +Of hair new shorn, with all the gloss of youth +And straight it struck my heart, as with a sense +Of something seen, ah me! long, long ago, +And told me that my sight encountered here +The token of Orestes, dearest soul +Then, clasping it, I did not cry aloud, +But straight mine eyes were filled with tears of joy. +And now as much as then I feel assured +He and none else bestowed this ornament. +To whom beyond thyself and me belongs +Such consecration? And I know this well, +I did it not,--nor thou. Impossible! +Thou canst not worship even the blessèd Gods +Forth of this roof, unpunished. And, most sure, +Our mother is not minded so to act, +Nor, had she done it, could we fail to know. +This offering comes then of Orestes' hand. +Take courage, dear one. Not one fate pursues +One house perpetually, but changeth still. +Ours was a sullen Genius, but perchance +This day begins the assurance of much good. + +EL. Oh how I pity thine infatuate mind! + +CHR. Why? Dost thou find no comfort in my news? + +EL. You know not where you roam. Far wide! far wide! + +CHR. Not know? when I have seen it with mine eyes? + +EL. Dear, he is dead. Look not to him, poor girl! +Salvation comes to thee no more from him. + +CHR. Oh me, unfortunate! Who told thee this? + +EL. He who stood by and saw his life destroyed. + +CHR. Amazement seizes me. Where is that man? + +EL. Right welcome to the mother there within. + +CHR. Me miserable! Who then can have decked +With all those ceremonies our father's tomb? + +EL. I cannot but suppose some hand hath brought +These gifts in memory of Orestes dead. + +CHR. O cruel fate! While I in ecstasy +Sped with such news, all ignorant, it seems, +Of our dire fortune; and, arriving, find +Fresh sorrows added to the former woe. + +EL. It is so, sister; yet if thou wilt list +To me, thou mayest disperse this heaviness. + +CHR. What? Shall I raise the dead again to life? + +EL. I did not mean so. I am not so fond. + +CHR. What bid you then that I have power to do? + +EL. To endure courageously what I enjoin. + +CHR. So it make profit, I will not refuse. + +EL. Remember, without toil no plan may thrive! + +CHR. I know it, and will aid thee to my power. + +EL. Then hearken my resolve. Thou seëst now, +We have no friendly succour in the world; +But death has taken all, and we are left +Two only. I, so long as I could hear +My brother lived and flourished, still had hope +He would arise to wreak his father's blood. +But now that he is gone, to thee I turn, +To help thy sister boldly to destroy +The guilty author of our father's death, +Aegisthus.--Wherefore hide it from thee now? +--Yea, sister! Till what term wilt thou remain +Inactive? To what end? What hope is yet +Left standing? Surely thou hast cause to grieve, +Bobbed of thy father's opulent heritage, +And feeling bitterly the creeping years +That find thee still a virgin and unwed. +Nay, nor imagine thou shalt ever know +That blessing. Not so careless of his life +Is King Aegisthus, as to risk the birth +Of sons from us, to his most certain fall. +But if thou wilt but follow my resolve, +First thou shalt win renown of piety +From our dead father, and our brother too, +Who rest beneath the ground, and shalt be free +For evermore in station as in birth, +And nobly matched in marriage, for the good +Draw gazers to them still. Then seest thou not +What meed of honour, if thou dost my will, +Thou shalt apportion to thyself and me? +For who, beholding us, what citizen, +What foreigner, will not extend the hand +Of admiration, and exclaim, 'See, friends, +These scions of one stock, these noble twain, +These that have saved their father's house from woe, +Who once when foes were mighty, set their life +Upon a cast, and stood forth to avenge +The stain of blood! Who will not love the pair +And do them reverence? Who will not give +Honour at festivals, and in the throng +Of popular resort, to these in chief, +For their high courage and their bold emprise?' +Such fame will follow us in all the world. +Living or dying, still to be renowned. +Ah, then, comply, dear sister; give thy sire +This toil--this labour to thy brother give; +End these my sufferings, end thine own regret: +The well-born cannot bear to live in shame. + +CH. In such affairs, for those who speak and hear +Wise thoughtfulness is still the best ally. + +CHR. True, noble women, and before she spake +Sound thought should have prevented the rash talk +That now hath proved her reckless. What wild aim +Beckons thee forth in arming this design +Whereto thou wouldst demand my ministry? +Dost not perceive, thou art not man but woman, +Of strength inferior to thine enemies,-- +Their Genius daily prospering more and more, +Whilst ours is dwindling into nothingness? +Who then that plots against a life so strong +Shall quit him of the danger without harm? +Take heed we do not add to our distress +Should some one hear of this our colloquy. +Small help and poor advantage 'twere for us +To win brief praise and then inglorious die. +Nay, death is not so hateful as when one +Desiring death is balked of that desire. +And I beseech thee, ere in utter ruin +We perish and make desolate our race, +Refrain thy rage. And I will guard for thee +In silence these thy words unrealized; +If thou wilt learn this wisdom from long time, +Having no strength, to bend before the strong. + +CH. Comply. Than prudence and a heedful mind, +No fairer treasure can be found for men. + +EL. Thy words have not surprised me. Well I knew +The good I offered would come back with scorn. +I, all alone and with a single hand, +Must do this. For it shall not rest undone. + +CHR. Would thou hadst been thus minded when our sire +Lay dying! In one act thou hadst compassed all. + +EL. My spirit was the same: my mind was less. + +CHR. Be such the life-long temper of thy mind! + +EL. Thine admonition augurs little aid. + +CHR. Yea. For the attempt would bring me certain bane. + +EL. I envy thee thy prudence, hate thy fear. + +CHR. Even when thou speak'st me fair, I will endure it. + +EL. Take heart. That never will be thine from me. + +CHR. Long time remains to settle that account. + +EL. I find no profit in thee. Go thy way. + +CHR. Profit there is, hadst thou a mind to learn. + +EL. Go to thy mother and declare all this! + +CHR. I am not so in hatred of thy life. + +EL. Yet know the shame thou wouldst prepare for me. + +CHR. No, no! Not shame, but care for thine estate. + +EL. Must I still follow as thou thinkest good? + +CHR. When thou hast wisdom, thou shalt be the guide. + +EL. 'Tis hard when error wears the garb of sense. + +CHR. Right. That is the misfortune of your case. + +EL. Why? Feel you not the justice of my speech? + +CHR. Justice may chance to bring me injury. + +EL. I care not, I, to live by such a rule. + +CHR. Well, if you do it, you will find me wise. + +EL. Well, I will do it, nought dismayed by thee. + +CHR. Speak you plain sooth? and will you not be counselled? + +EL. No, for bad counsel is of all most hateful. + +CHR. You take the sense of nothing that I say. + +EL. Long since, not newly, my resolve is firm. + +CHR. Then I will go. Thy heart will ne'er be brought +To praise my words, nor I thine action here. + +EL. Then go within! I will not follow thee, +Though thou desire it vehemently. None +Would be so fond to hunt on a cold trail. + +CHR. If this seem wisdom to thee, then be wise +Thy way: but in the hour of misery, +When it hath caught thee, thou wilt praise my words. + [_Exit_ CHRYSOTHEMIS + +CHORUS. + Wise are the birds of air I 1 + That with true filial care + For those provide convenient food + Who gave them birth, who wrought their good. + Why will not men the like perfection prove? + Else, by the fires above, + And heavenly Rectitude, + Fierce recompense they shall not long elude. + O darkling rumour, world-o'er-wandering voice + That piercest to the shades beneath the ground, + To dead Atrides waft a sound + Of sad reproach, not bidding him rejoice. + + Stained is the ancestral hall, I 2 + Broken the battle-call, + That heretofore his children twain + In loving concord did sustain. + Alone, deserted, vexed, Electra sails, + Storm-tossed with rugged gales, + Lamenting evermore + Like piteous Philomel, and pining sore + For her lost father;--might she but bring down + That two-fold Fury, caring not for death, + But ready to resign her breath, + What maid so worthy of a sire's renown? + + None who inherit from a noble race, II 1 + Complying with things base + Will let their ancient glory be defiled. + So 'twas thy choice, dear child, + Through homeless misery[9] to win a two-fold prize, + Purging the sin and shame[10] + That cloud the Argive name, + So to be called most noble and most wise. + + May'st thou surpass thy foes in wealth and power II 2 + As o'er thee now they tower! + Since I have found thee, not in bright estate, + Nor blessed by wayward fate, + But through thy loyalty to Heaven's eternal cause + Wearing the stainless crown + Of perfectest renown, + And richly dowered by the mightiest laws. + +_Enter_ ORESTES _and_ PYLADES, _with the urn_. + +OR. Say, dames and damsels, have we heard aright, +And speed we to the goal of our desire? + +CH. And what desire or quest hath brought thee hither? + +OR. I seek Aegisthus' dwelling all this while. + +CH. Welcome. The tongue that told thee hath no blame. + +OR. Which of you all will signify within +Our joint arrival,--not unwelcome here. + +CH. This maiden, if the nearest should report. + +OR. Mistress, wilt thou go yonder and make known, +That certain Phocians on Aegisthus wait? + +EL. Oh! can it be that you are come to bring +Clear proofs of the sad rumour we have heard? + +OR. I know not what ye have heard. Old Strophius +Charged me with tidings of Orestes' fate. + +EL. What, stranger? How this terror steals on me! + +OR. Bearing scant remnants of his body dead +In this small vase thou seest, we bring them home. + +EL. O sorrow! thou art here: I see full well +That burden of my heart in present view. + +OR. If thou hast tears for aught Orestes suffered, +Know that he lies within this vessel's room. + +EL. Ah, sir! by all in Heaven, if yonder urn +Hide him, ah! give it once into my hand, +That o'er that dust I may lament and mourn +Myself and mine own house and all our woe! + +OR. Bring it and give her, whosoe'er she be. +For not an enemy--this petition shows it-- +But of his friends or kindred, is this maid. + [_The urn is given into_ ELECTRA'S _hands_ + +EL. O monument of him whom o'er all else +I loved! sole relic of Orestes' life, +How cold in this thy welcome is the hope +Wherein I decked thee as I sent thee forth! +Then bright was thy departure, whom I now +Bear lightly, a mere nothing, in my hands. +Would I had gone from life, ere I dispatched +Thee from my arms that saved thee to a land +Of strangers, stealing thee from death! For then +Thou hadst been quiet on that far off day, +And had thy portion in our father's tomb +Now thou hast perished in the stranger land +Far from thy sister, lorn and comfortless +And I, O wretchedness! neither have bathed +And laid thee forth, nor from the blazing fire +Collected the sad burden, as was meet +But thou, when foreign hands have tended thee +Com'st a small handful in a narrow shell +Woe for the constant care I spent on thee +Of old all vainly, with sweet toil! For never +Wast thou thy mother's darling, nay, but mine, +And I of all the household most thy nurse, +While 'sister, sister,' was thy voice to me +But now all this is vanished in one day, +Dying in thy death. Thou hast carried all away +As with a whirlwind, and art gone. No more +My father lives, thyself art lost in death, +I am dead, who lived in thee. Our enemies +Laugh loudly, and she maddens in her joy, +Our mother most unmotherly, of whom +Thy secret missives ofttimes told me, thou +Wouldst be the punisher. But that fair hope +The hapless Genius of thy lot and mine +Hath reft away, and gives thee thus to me,-- +For thy loved form thy dust and fruitless shade +O bitterness! O piteous sight! Woe! woe! +Oh! sent on thy dire journey, dearest one, +How thou hast ruined me! Thou hast indeed, +Dear brother! Then receive me to thyself, +Hide me in this thy covering, there to dwell, +Me who am nothing, with thy nothingness, +For ever! Yea, when thou wert here above, +I ever shared with thee in all, and now +I would not have thee shut me from thy tomb. +Oh! let me die and follow thee! the dead, +My mind assures me now, have no more pain. + +CH. Electra, think! Thou hadst a mortal sire, +And mortal was thy brother. Grieve not far. + +OR. O me! What shall I speak, or which way turn +The desperate word? I cannot hold my tongue. + +EL. What pain o'ercomes thee? Wherefore speak'st thou so? + +OR. Can this be famed Electra I behold? + +EL. No other. In sad case, as you may see + +OR. Ah! deep indeed was this calamity! + +EL. Is't possible that thou shouldst grieve for me? + +OR. O ruined form! abandoned to disgrace! + +EL. 'Tis me you mean, stranger, I feel it now. + +OR. Woe 's me! Untrimmed for bridal, hapless maid! + +EL. Why this fixed gaze, O stranger! that deep groan? + +OR. How all unknowing was I of mine ill! + +EL. What thing hath passed to make it known to thee? + +OR. The sight of thee attired with boundless woe. + +EL. And yet thine eye sees little of my pain. + +OR. Can aught be still more hateful to be seen? + +EL. I have my dwelling with the murderers-- + +OR. Of whom? What evil would thy words disclose? + +EL. Of him who gave me birth. I am their slave. + +OR. Whose power compels thee to this sufferance? + +EL. One called my mother, most unmotherly. + +OR. How? by main force, or by degrading shames? + +EL. By force and shames, and every kind of evil. + +OR. And is there none to succour or prevent? + +EL. None. Him I had, you give me here in dust. + +OR. How mine eye pities thee this while, poor maid! + +EL. Know now, none ever pitied me but you. + +OR. None ever came whose heart like sorrow wrung. + +EL. Is't possible we have some kinsman here? + +OR. I will tell it, if these women here be friendly. + +EL. They are. They may be trusted. Only speak. + +OR. Let go yon vase, that thou may'st learn the whole. + +EL. Nay, by the Gods! be not so cruel, sir! + +OR. Obey me and thou shalt not come to harm. + +EL. Ah, never rob me of what most I love! + +OR. You must not hold it. + +EL. O me miserable +For thee, Orestes, if I lose thy tomb! + +OR. Speak no rash word. Thou hast no right to mourn. + +EL. No right to mourn my brother who is gone? + +OR. Such utterance belongs not to thy tongue, + +EL. Oh, am I thus dishonoured of the dead? + +OR. Far from dishonour. But this ne'er was thine. + +EL. Is't not Orestes' body that I bear? + +OR. Nay, but the idle dressing of a tale. + +EL. And where is his poor body's resting-place? + +OR. Nowhere. Seek not the living with the dead, + +EL. My son, what saidst thou? + +OR. Nought but what is true. + +EL. Doth he yet live? + +OR. If I have life in me. + +EL. Art thou Orestes? + +OR. Let my signet here, +That was our father's, tell thine eyes, I am. + +EL. O day of days! + +OR. Time hath no happier hour. + +EL. Is it thy voice? + +OR. Hearken not otherwhere. + +EL. Have my arms caught thee? + +OR. Hold me so for aye! + +EL. O dearest women, Argives of my home! +Ye see Orestes, dead in craft, but now +By that same craft delivered and preserved. + +CH. We see, dear daughter, and the gladsome tear +Steals from our eye to greet the bright event. + +EL. Offspring of him I loved beyond all telling! I 1 +Ah! thou art come,--hast found me, eye to eye +Behold'st the face thou didst desire to see. + +OR. True, I am here; but bide in silence still. + +EL. Wherefore? + +OR. Hush! speak not loud, lest one within should hearken. + +EL. By ever-virgin Artemis, ne'er will I +Think worthy of my fear +This useless mass of woman-cowardice +Burdening the house within, +Not peering out of door. + +OR. Yet know that women too have might in war. +Of that methinks thou hast feeling evidence. + +EL. Ah me! thou hast unveiled +And thrust before my gaze +That burning load of my distress +No time will soothe, no remedy will heal. + +OR. I know that too. But when we are face to face +With the evildoers,--then let remembrance work. + +EL. All times alike are fit with instant pain I 2 +Justly to mind me of that dreadful day; +Even now but hardly hath my tongue been free. + +OR. Yes, that is it. Therefore preserve this boon. + +EL. Whereby? + +OR. Put limits to unseasonable talk. + +EL. Ah! brother, who, when thou art come, +Could find it meet to exchange +Language for silence, as thou bidst me do? +Since beyond hope or thought +Was this thy sight to me. + +OR. God gave me to your sight when so he willed. + +EL. O heaven of grace beyond +The joy I knew but now! +If God hath brought thee to our roof, +A miracle of bounty then is here. + +OR. I hate to curb the gladness of thy spirit, +But yet I fear this ecstasy of joy. + +EL. Oh! after all these years, II +Now thou at length hast sped +Thy dearest advent on the wished-for way, +Do not, in all this woe +Thou seest surrounding me-- + +OR. What means this prayer? + +EL. Forbid me not my joy, +Nor make me lose the brightness of thy face! + +OR. Deep were my wrath at him who should attempt it. + +EL. Is my prayer heard? + +OR. Why doubt it? + +EL. Friends, I learned +A tale beyond my thought; and hearing I restrained +My passion, voiceless in my misery, +Uttering no cry. But now +I have thee safe; now, dearest, thou art come, +With thy blest countenance, which I +Can ne'er forget, even at the worst of woe. + +OR. A truce now to unnecessary words. +My mother's vileness and Aegisthus' waste, +Draining and squandering with spendthrift hand +Our patrimony, tell me not anew. +Such talk might stifle opportunity. +But teach me, as befits the present need, +What place may serve by lurking vigilance +Or sudden apparition to o'erwhelm +Our foes in the adventure of to-day. +And, when we pass within, take heedful care +Bright looks betray thee not unto our mother. +But groan as for the dire calamity +Vainly reported:--Let's achieve success, +Then with free hearts we may rejoice and laugh. + +EL. Dear brother, wheresoe'er thy pleasure leads, +My will shall follow, since the joys I know, +Not from myself I took them, but from thee. +And ne'er would I consent thy slightest grief +Should win for me great gain. Ill should I then +Serve the divinity of this high hour! +Thou knowest how matters in the palace stand. +Thou hast surely heard, Aegisthus is from home, +And she, our mother, is within. Nor fear +She should behold me with a smiling face. +Mine ancient hate of her hath sunk too deep. +And from the time I saw thee, tears of joy +Will cease not. Wherefore should I stint their flow? +I, who in this thy coming have beheld +Thee dead and living? Strangely hast thou wrought +On me;--that should my father come alive, +I would not think the sight were miracle, +But sober truth. Since such thy presence, then, +Lead as thy spirit prompts. For I alone +Of two things surely had achieved one, +Noble deliverance or a noble death. + +OR. Be silent; for I hear within the house +A footstep coming forth. + +EL. (_loudly_). + Strangers, go in! +For none within the palace will reject +Your burden, nor be gladdened by the event. + +_Enter the_ Old Man. + +OLD M. O lost in folly and bereft of soul! +Is't that your care for life hath ebbed away, +Or were you born without intelligence, +When fallen, not near, but in the midst of ill, +And that the greatest, ye perceive it not? +Had I not watched the doors this while, your deeds +Had gone within the palace ere yourselves. +But, as things are, my care hath fenced you round. +Now, then, have done with long-protracted talk, +And this insatiable outburst of joy, +And enter, for in such attempts as these +Delay is harmful: and 'tis more than time. + +OR. But how shall I find matters there within? + +OLD M. Well. You are shielded by their ignorance. + +OR. That means you have delivered me as dead. + +OLD M. Alone of dead men thou art here above. + +OR. Doth this delight them, or how went the talk? + +OLD M. I will report, when all is done. Meanwhile, +Know, all is well with them, even what is evil. + +EL. Who is this, brother? I beseech thee, tell. + +OR. Dost not perceive? + +EL. I cannot even imagine. + +OR. Know'st not into whose hands thou gav'st me once? + +EL. Whose hands? How say you? + +OR. His, who through thy care +Conveyed me secretly to Phocis' plain. + +EL. What! is this he, whom I, of all the band, +Found singly faithful in our father's death? + +OR. He is that man. No more! + +EL. O gladsome day! +Dear only saviour of our father's house, +How earnest thou hither? Art thou he indeed, +That didst preserve Orestes and myself +From many sorrows? O dear hands, kind feet, +Swift in our service,--how couldst thou so long +Be near, nor show one gleam, but didst destroy +My heart with words, hiding the loveliest deeds? +Father!--in thee methinks I see my father. +O welcome! thou of all the world to me +Most hated and most loved in one short hour. + +OLD M. Enough, dear maiden! Many nights and days +Are circling hitherward, that shall reveal +In clear recountment all that came between. + But to you two that stand beside I tell, +Now is your moment, with the Queen alone, +And none of men within; but if you pause, +Know that with others of profounder skill +You'll have to strive, more than your present foes. + +OR. Then, Pylades, we need no more to dwell +On words, but enter on this act with speed, +First worshipping the holy shrines o' the Gods +That were my father's, harboured at the gate. + [_They pass within_. ELECTRA _remains in + an attitude of prayer_ + +EL. O King Apollo! hear them graciously, +And hear me too, that with incessant hand +Honoured thee richly from my former store! +And now, fierce slayer, I importune thee, +And woo thee with such gifts as I can give, +Be kindly aidant to this enterprise, +And make the world take note, what meed of bane +Heaven still bestows on man's iniquity. [ELECTRA _goes within_ + +CH. Lo, where the War-god moves 1 + With soft, sure footstep, on to his design, + Breathing hot slaughter of an evil feud! + Even now the inevitable hounds that track + Dark deeds of hideous crime + Are gone beneath the covert of the domes. + Not long in wavering suspense shall hang + The dreaming presage of my wistful soul. + + For lo! within is led 2 + With crafty tread the avenger of the shades, + Even to his father's throne of ancient power, + And in his hand the bright new-sharpened death! + And Hermes, Maia's son, + Is leading him, and hath concealed the guile + Even to the fatal end in clouds of night. + His time of weary waiting all is o'er. + +_Re-enter_ ELECTRA. + +EL. O dearest women! they are even now +About it. Only bide in silence still. + +CH. What is the present scene? + +EL. She decks the vase +For burial, and they both are standing by. + +CH. And wherefore hast thou darted forth? + +EL. To watch +Aegisthus' coming, that he enter not +At unawares. + +CLY. (_within_). + Ah! ah! Woe for the house, +Desert of friends, and filled with hands of death! + +EL. A cry within! Did ye not hear it, friends? + +CH. Would I had not! I heard, and shivered through. + +CLY. (_within_). Oh me! Alas, Aegisthus! where art thou? + +EL. Hark! yet again that sound! + +CLY. (_within_). O son, have pity! +Pity the womb that bare thee. + +EL. Thou hadst none +For him, nor for his father, in that day. + +HALF-CH. Poor city! hapless race! 1 +Thy destiny to-day +Wears thee away, away. +What morn shall see thy face? + +CLY. (_within_). +Oh, I am smitten! + +EL. Give a second stroke, +If thou hast power. + +CLY. (_within_). + Oh me! again, again! + +EL. Would thou wert shrieking for Aegisthus too! + +CH. The curse hath found, and they in earth who lie +Are living powers to-day. +Long dead, they drain away +The streaming blood of those who made them die. + +_Enter_ ORESTES _and_ PYLADES. + +Behold, they come, they come! +His red hand dripping as he moves +With drops of sacrifice the War-god loves. +My 'wildered heart is dumb. + +EL. How is it with you, brother? + +OR. If Apollo +Spake rightfully, the state within is well. + +EL. Wretched one, is she dead? + +OR. No more have fear +Thou shalt be slighted by thy mother's will. + +CH. Cease, for I see Aegisthus near in view. + +EL. In, in again, boys! + +OR. Where do ye behold +The tyrant? + +EL. To our hand from yonder gate +He comes with beaming look. + +HALF-CH. Haste, with what speed ye may, 2 +Stand on the doorway stone, +That, having thus much done, +Ye may do all to-day. + +OR. Fear not: we will perform it. + +EL. Speed ye now: +Follow your thought. + +OR. We are already there. + +EL. Leave matters here to me. All shall go well. + [_Exit_ ORESTES _with_ PYLADES + +CH. Few words, as if in gentleness, 'twere good +To utter in his ear, +That, eager and unware, +One step may launch him on the field of blood. + +_Enter_ AEGISTHUS. + +AEGISTHUS. Which of you know where are the Phocian men +Who brought the news I hear, Orestes' life +Hath suffered shipwreck in a chariot-race? +You, you I question, you in former time +So fearless! You methinks most feelingly +Can tell us, for it touches you most near. + +EL. I know: assure thee. Else had I not heard +The dearest of all fortunes to my heart. + +AEG. Where are the strangers then? Enlighten me. + +EL. Yonder. Their hostess entertained them well. + +AEG. And did they certainly report him dead? + +EL. Not only so. They showed him to our sight. + +AEG. May this clear evidence be mine to see? + +EL. I envy not the sight that waits you there. + +AEG. Against their wont thy words have given me joy. + +EL. Much joy be thine, if this be joy to thee! + +AEG. Silence, I say! Wide let the gates be flung! +For all the Myceneans to behold +And all in Argolis, that if but one +Hath heretofore been buoyed on empty hopes +Fixed in Orestes, seeing him now dead, +He may accept my manage, and not wait +For our stern chastisement to teach him sense. + +EL. My lesson is already learnt: at length +I am schooled to labour with the stronger will. + [_The body of_ CLYTEMNESTRA _is disclosed + under a veil:_ ORESTES _standing by_ + +AEG. Zeus! Divine envy surely hath laid low +The form I here behold. But if the truth +Provoke Heaven's wrath, be it unexpressed.--Unveil! +Off with all hindrance, that mine eye may see, +And I may mourn my kinsman as I should. + +OR. Thyself put forth thy hand. Not mine but thine +To look and speak with kindness to this corse. + +AEG. I will, for thou advisest well; but thou, +Call Clytemnestra, if she be within. [AEGISTHUS _lifts the shroud_ + +OR. She is beside thee, gaze not otherwhere. + +AEG. What do I see! oh! + +OR. Why so strange? Whom fear you? + +AEG. Who are the men into whose midmost toils +All hapless I am fallen? + +OR. Ha! knowest thou not +Thou hast been taking living men for dead?[11] + +AEG. I understand that saying. Woe is me! +I know, Orestes' voice addresseth me. + +OR. A prophet! How wert thou so long deceived? + +AEG. Undone, undone! Yet let me speak one word. + +EL. Brother, by Heaven, no more! Let him not speak. +When death is certain, what do men in woe +Gain from a little time? Kill him at once! +And, killed, expose him to such burial +From dogs and vultures, as beseemeth such, +Far from our view. Nought less will solace me +For the remembrance of a life of pain. + +OR. Go in and tarry not. No contest this +Of verbal question, but of life or death. + +AEG. Why drive you me within? If this you do +Be noble, why must darkness hide the deed? +Why not destroy me out of hand? + +OR. Command not! +Enter, and in the place where ye cut down +My father, thou shalt yield thy life to me. + +AEG. Is there no help but this abode must see +The past and future ills of Pelops' race? + +OR. Thine anyhow. That I can prophesy +With perfect inspiration to thine ear. + +AEG. The skill you boast belonged not to your sire. + +OR. You question and delay. Go in! + +AEG. Lead on. + +OR. Nay, go thou first. + +AEG. That I may not escape thee? + +OR. No, that thou may'st not have thy wish in death. +I may not stint one drop of bitterness. +And would this doom were given without reprieve, +If any try to act beyond the law, +To kill them. Then the wicked would be few. + +LEADER OF CH. O seed of Atreus! how triumphantly +Through grief and hardness thou hast freedom found, +With full achievement in this onset crowned! + + * * * * * + + + + + THE TRACHINIAN MAIDENS + + + THE PERSONS + +DÊANIRA, _wife of Heracles._ +_An_ Attendant. +HYLLUS, _son of Heracles and Dêanira_. +CHORUS _of Trachinian Maidens_. +_A_ Messenger. +LICHAS, _the Herald_. +_A_ Nurse. +_An_ Old Man. +HERACLES. +IOLE, _who does not speak_. + + +SCENE. Before the temporary abode of Heracles in Trachis. + + + + +This tragedy is named from the Chorus. From the subject it might have +been called 'Deanira or the Death of Heracles'. + +The Centaur Nessus, in dying by the arrow of Heracles, which had been +dipped in the venom of the Hydra, persuaded the bride Deanira, whose +beauty was the cause of his death, to keep some of the blood from the +wound as a love-charm for her husband. Many years afterwards, when +Heracles was returning from his last exploit of sacking Oechalia, in +Euboea, he sent before him, by his herald Lichas, Iole, the king's +daughter, whom he had espoused. Deanira, when she had discovered this, +commissioned Lichas when he returned to present his master with a +robe, which she had anointed with the charm,--hoping by this means to +regain her lord's affection. But the poison of the Hydra did its work, +and Heracles died in agony, Deanira having already killed herself on +ascertaining what she had done. The action takes place in Trachis, +near the Mahae Gulf, where Heracles and Deanira, by permission of +Ceyx, the king of the country, have been living in exile. At the close +of the drama, Heracles, while yet alive, is carried towards his pyre +on Mount Oeta. + + + + + THE TRACHINIAN MAIDENS + + +DÊANIRA. Men say,--'twas old experience gave the word, +--'No lot of mortal, ere he die, can once +Be known for good or evil.' But I know, +Before I come to the dark dwelling-place, +Mine is a lot, adverse and hard and sore. +Who yet at Pleuron, in my father's home, +Of all Aetolian women had most cause +To fear my bridal. For a river-god, +Swift Achelôüs, was my suitor there +And sought me from my father in three forms; +Now in his own bull-likeness, now a serpent +Of coiling sheen, and now with manlike build +But bovine front, while from the shadowy beard +Sprang fountain-waters in perpetual spray. +Looking for such a husband, I, poor girl! +Still prayed that Death might find me, ere I knew +That nuptial.--Later, to my glad relief, +Zeus' and Alcmena's glorious offspring came, +And closed with him in conflict, and released +My heart from torment. How the fight was won +I could not tell. If any were who saw +Unshaken of dread foreboding, such may speak. +But I sate quailing with an anguished fear, +Lest beauty might procure me nought but pain, +Till He that rules the issue of all strife, +Gave fortunate end--if fortunate! For since, +Assigned by that day's conquest, I have known +The couch of Heracles, my life is spent +In one continual terror for his fate. +Night brings him, and, ere morning, some fresh toil +Drives him afar. And I have borne him seed; +Which he, like some strange husbandman that farms +A distant field, finds but at sowing time +And once in harvest. Such a weary life +Still tossed him to and fro,--no sooner home +But forth again, serving I know not whom. + And when his glorious head had risen beyond +These labours, came the strongest of my fear. +For since he quelled the might of Iphitus, +We here in Trachis dwell, far from our home, +Dependent on a stranger, but where he +Is gone, none knoweth. Only this I know, +His going pierced my heart with pangs for him, +And now I am all but sure he bears some woe. +These fifteen months he hath sent me not one word. +And I have cause for fear. Ere he set forth +He left a scroll with me, whose dark intent +I oft pray Heaven may bring no sorrow down. + +ATTENDANT. Queen Dêanira, many a time ere now +Have I beheld thee with all tearful moan +Bewailing the departure of thy lord. +But, if it be permitted that a slave +Should tender counsel to the free, my voice +May venture this:--Of thy strong band of sons +Why is not one commissioned to explore +For Heracles? and why not Hyllus first, +Whom most it would beseem to show regard +For tidings of his father's happiness? +Ah! here I see him bounding home, with feet +Apt for employment! If you count me wise, +He and my words attend upon your will. + +_Enter_ HYLLUS. + +DÊ. Dear child, dear boy! even from the lowliest head +Wise counsel may come forth. This woman here, +Though a bond-maiden, hath a free-born tongue. + +HYL. What word is spoken, mother? May I know? + +DÊ. That, with thy father lost to us so long, +'Tis shame thou dost not learn his dwelling-place. + +HYL. Yea, I have learnt, if one may trust report. + +DÊ. Where art thou told his seat is fixed, my son? + +HYL. 'Tis said that through the length of this past year +He wrought as bondman to a Lydian girl. + +DÊ. Hath he borne that? Then nothing can be strange! + +HYL. Well, that is over, I am told. He is free. + +DÊ. Where is he rumoured, then, alive or dead? + +HYL. In rich Euboea, besieging, as they tell, +The town of Eurytus, or offering siege. + +DÊ. Child, hast thou heard what holy oracles +He left with me, touching that very land? + +HYL. What were they, mother, for I never knew? + +DÊ. That either he must end his being there, +Or, this one feat performed, his following time +Should grace his life with fair prosperity. +Wilt thou not then, my child, when he is held +In such a crisis of uncertain peril, +Run to his aid?--since we must perish with him, +Or owe our lasting safety to his life. + +HYL. I will go, mother. Had I heard this voice +Of prophecy, long since I had been there. +Fear is unwonted for our father's lot. +But now I know, my strength shall all be spent +To learn the course of these affairs in full. + +DÊ. Go then, my son. Though late, to learn and do +What wisdom bids, hath certainty of gain. + [_Exit_ HYLLUS. DÊANIRA _withdraws_ + +CHORUS (_entering and turning towards the East_). + Born of the starry night in her undoing, I 1 + Lulled in her bosom at thy parting glow, + O Sun! I bid thee show, + What journey is Alcmena's child pursuing? + What region holds him now, + 'Mong winding channels of the deep, + Or Asian plains, or rugged Western steep? + Declare it, thou + Peerless in vision of thy flashing ray + That lightens on the world with each new day. + Sad Dêanira, bride of battle-wooing[1], I 2 + Ne'er lets her tearful eyelids close in rest, + But in love-longing breast, + Like some lorn bird its desolation rueing, + Of her great husband's way + Still mindful, worn with harrowing fear + Lest some new danger for him should be near, + By night and day + Pines on her widowed couch of ceaseless thought, + With dread of evil destiny distraught: [_Enter_ DÊANIRA. + + For many as are billows of the South II 1 + Blowing unweariedly, or Northern gale, + One going and another coming on + Incessantly, baffling the gazer's eye, + Such Cretan ocean of unending toil + Cradles our Cadmus-born, and swells his fame. + But still some power doth his foot recall + From stumbling down to Hades' darkling hall. + + Wherefore, in censure of thy mood, I bring II 2 + Glad, though opposing, counsel. Let not hope + Grow weary. Never hath a painless life + Been cast on mortals by the power supreme + Of the All-disposer, Cronos' son. But joy + And sorrow visit in perpetual round + All mortals, even as circleth still on high + The constellation of the Northern sky. + + What lasteth in the world? Not starry night, III + Nor wealth, nor tribulation; but is gone + All suddenly, while to another soul + The joy or the privation passeth on. + These hopes I bid thee also, O my Queen! + Hold fast continually, for who hath seen + Zeus so forgetful of his own? + How can his providence forsake his son? + +DÊ. I see you have been told of my distress, +And that hath brought you. But my inward woe, +Be it evermore unknown to you, as now! +Such the fair garden of untrammeled ease +Where the young life grows safely. No fierce heat, +No rain, no wind disturbs it, but unharmed +It rises amid airs of peace and joy, +Till maiden turn to matron, and the night +Inherit her dark share of anxious thought, +Haunted with fears for husband or for child. +Then, imaged through her own calamity, +Some one may guess the burden of my life. + Full many have been the sorrows I have wept, +But one above the rest I tell to-day. +When my great husband parted last from home, +He left within the house an ancient scroll +Inscribed with characters of mystic note, +Which Heracles had never heretofore, +In former labours, cared to let me see,-- +As bound for bright achievement, not for death. +But now, as though his life had end, he told +What marriage-portion I must keep, what shares +He left his sons out of their father's ground: +And set a time, when fifteen moons were spent, +Counted from his departure, that even then +Or he must die, or if that date were out +And he had run beyond it, he should live +Thenceforth a painless and untroubled life. +Such by Heaven's fiat was the promised end +Of Heracles' long labours, as he said; +So once the ancient oak-tree had proclaimed +In high Dodona through the sacred Doves. +Of which prediction on this present hour +In destined order of accomplishment +The veritable issue doth depend. +And I, dear friends, while taking rest, will oft +Start from sweet slumbers with a sudden fear, +Scared by the thought, my life may be bereft +Of the best husband in the world of men. + +CH. Hush! For I see approaching one in haste, +Garlanded, as if laden with good news. + +_Enter_ Messenger. + +MESSENGER. Queen Dêanira, mine shall be the tongue +To free thee first from fear. Alcmena's child +Is living, be assured, and triumphing, +And bringing to our Gods the fruits of war. + +DÊ. What mean'st thou, aged sir, by what thou sayest? + +MESS. That soon thy husband, envied all around, +Will come, distinguished with victorious might. + +DÊ. What citizen or stranger told thee this? + +MESS. Your herald Lichas, where the oxen graze +The summer meadow, cries this to a crowd. +I, hearing, flew off hither, that being first +To bring thee word thereof, I might be sure +To win reward and gratitude from thee. + +DÊ. And how is he not here, if all be well? + +MESS. Crossed by no light impediment, my Queen. +For all the Maliac people, gathering round, +Throng him with question, that he cannot move. +But he must still the travail of each soul, +And none will be dismissed unsatisfied. +Such willing audience he unwillingly +Harangues, but soon himself will come in sight. + +DÊ. O Zeus! who rulest Oeta's virgin wold, +At last, though late, thou hast vouchsafed us joy. +Lift up your voices, O my women! ye +Within the halls, and ye beyond the gate! +For now we reap the gladness of a ray, +That dawns unhoped for in this rumour's sound. + +CHORUS +With a shout by the hearth let the palace roof ring + From those that are dreaming of bridal, and ye, +Young men, let your voices in harmony sing + To the God of the quiver, the Lord of the free! +And the Paean withal from the maiden band +To Artemis, huntress of many a land, + Let it rise o'er the glad roof tree, +To Phoebus' own sister, with fire in each hand, + And the Nymphs that her co-mates be! +My spirit soars. O sovereign of my soul! +I will accept the thrilling flute's control. [_They dance_ + The ivy-crownèd thyrsus, see! + With Bacchic fire is kindling me, + And turns my emulous tread + Where'er the mazy dance may lead. +Euoî! Euoî! +O Paean! send us joy. +See, dearest Queen, behold! +Before thy gaze the event will now unfold. + +DÊ. Think not mine eye hath kept such careless guard, +Dear maids, that I could miss this moving train. +Herald, I bid thee hail, although so late +Appearing, if thou bringest health with thee! + +_Enter_ LICHAS, _with_ Captive Women. + +LICHAS. A happy welcome on a happy way, +As prosperous our achievement. Meet it is +Good words should greet bright actions, mistress mine! + +DÊ. Kind friend, first tell me what I first would know-- +Shall I receive my Heracles alive? + +LICH. I left him certainly alive and strong: +Blooming in health, not with disease oppressed. + +DÊ. In Greece, or in some barbarous country? Tell! + +LICH. Euboea's island hath a promontory, +Where to Cenaean Zeus he consecrates +Rich altars and the tribute of the ground. + +DÊ. Moved by an oracle, or from some vow? + +LICH. So vowed he when he conquered with the spear +The country of these women whom you see. + +DÊ. And who, by Heaven, are they? Who was their sire? +Their case is piteous, or eludes my thought. + +LICH. He took them for the service of the Gods +And his own house, when high Oechalia fell. + +DÊ. Was't then before that city he was kept +Those endless ages of uncounted time? + +LICH. Not so. The greater while he was detained +Among the Lydians, sold, as he declares, +To bondage. Nor be jealous of the word, +Since Heaven, my Queen, was author of the deed. +Enthrallèd so to Asian Omphalè, +He, as himself avers, fulfilled his year. +The felt reproach whereof so chafed his soul, +He bound fierce curses on himself and sware +That,--children, wife and all,--he yet would bring +In captive chains the mover of this harm. +Nor did this perish like an idle word, +But, when the stain was off him, straight he drew +Allied battalions to assault the town +Of Eurytus, whom, sole of earthly powers, +He had noted as the source of his annoy, +Because, having received him in his hall +A guest of ancient days, he burst on him +With outrage of loud voice and villanous mind, +Saying, 'with his hand upon the unerring bow, +Oechalia's princes could o'ershoot his skill; +And born to bondage, he must quail beneath +His overlord'; lastly, to crown this cry, +When at a banquet he was filled with wine, +He flung him out of door. Whereat being wroth, +When Iphitus to the Tirynthian height +Followed the track where his brood-mares had strayed, +He, while the thought and eye of the man by chance +Were sundered, threw him from the tower-crowned cliff. +In anger for which deed the Olympian King, +Father of Gods and men, delivered him +To be a bond-slave, nor could brook the offence, +That of all lives he vanquished, this alone +Should have been ta'en by guile. For had he wrought +In open quittance of outrageous wrong, +Even Zeus had granted that his cause was just. +The braggart hath no favour even in Heaven. +Whence they, o'erweening with their evil tongue, +Are now all dwellers in the house of death, +Their ancient city a captive;--but these women +Whom thou beholdest, from their blest estate +Brought suddenly to taste of piteous woe, +Come to thy care. This task thy wedded lord +Ordained, and I, his faithful minister, +Seek to perform. But, for his noble self, +When with pure hands he hath done sacrifice +To his Great Father for the victory given, +Look for his coming, lady. This last word +Of all my happy speech is far most sweet. + +CH. Now surety of delight is thine, my Queen, +Part by report and part before thine eye. + +DÊ. Yea, now I learn this triumph of my lord, +Joy reigns without a rival in my breast. +This needs must run with that in fellowship. +Yet wise consideration even of good +Is flecked with fear of what reverse may come. +And I, dear friends, when I behold these maids, +Am visited with sadness deep and strange. +Poor friendless beings, in a foreign land +Wandering forlorn in homeless orphanhood! +Erewhile, free daughters of a freeborn race, +Now, snared in strong captivity for life. +O Zeus of battles, breaker of the war, +Ne'er may I see thee[2] turn against my seed +So cruelly; or, if thou meanest so, +Let me be spared that sorrow by my death! +Such fear in me the sight of these hath wrought. +Who art thou, of all damsels most distressed? +Single or child-bearing? Thy looks would say, +A maid, of no mean lineage. Lichas, tell, +Who is the stranger-nymph? Who gave her birth? +Who was her sire? Mine eye hath pitied her +O'er all, as she o'er all hath sense of woe. + +LICH. What know I? Why should'st thou demand? Perchance +Not lowest in the list of souls there born. + +DÊ. How if a princess, offspring of their King? + +LICH. I cannot tell. I did not question far. + +DÊ. Have none of her companions breathed her name? + +LICH. I brought them silently. I did not hear. + +DÊ. Yet speak it to us of thyself, poor maid! +'Tis sorrow not to know thee who thou art. + +LICH. She'll ne'er untie her tongue, if she maintain +An even tenor, since nor more nor less +Would she disclose; but, poor unfortunate! +With agonizing sobs and tears she mourns +This crushing sorrow, from the day she left +Her wind-swept home. Her case is cruel, sure,-- +And claims a privilege from all who feel. + +DÊ. Well, let her go, and pass beneath the roof +In peace, as she desires; nor let fresh pain +From me be added to her previous woe. +She hath enough already. Come, away! +Let's all within at once, that thou mayest speed +Thy journey, and I may order all things here. + [_Exit_ LICHAS, _with_ Captives, _into the house_. + DÊANIRA _is about to follow them_ + +_Re-enter_ Messenger. + +MESS. Pause first there on the threshold, till you learn +(Apart from those) who 'tis you take within, +And more besides that you yet know not of, +Which deeply imports your knowing. Of all this +I throughly am informed. + +DÊ. What cause hast thou +Thus to arrest my going? + +MESS. Stand, and hear. +Not idle was my former speech, nor this. + +DÊ. Say, must we call them back in presence here, +Or would'st thou tell thy news to these and me? + +MESS. To thee and these I may, but let those be. + +DÊ. Well, they are gone. Let words declare thy drift. + +MESS. That man, in all that he hath lately said, +Hath sinned against the truth: or now he's false, +Or else unfaithful in his first report. + +DÊ. What? Tell me thy full meaning clearly forth. +That thou hast uttered is all mystery. + +MESS. I heard this herald say, while many thronged +To hearken, that this maiden was the cause, +Why lofty-towered Oechalia and her lord +Fell before Heracles, whom Love alone +Of heavenly powers had warmed to this emprise, +And not the Lydian thraldom or the tasks +Of rigorous Omphalè, nor that wild fate +Of rock-thrown Iphitus. Now he thrusts aside +The Love-god, contradicting his first tale. + When he that was her sire could not be brought +To yield the maid for Heracles to hold +In love unrecognized, he framed erelong +A feud about some trifle, and set forth +In arms against this damsel's fatherland +(Where Eurytus, the herald said, was king) +And slew the chief her father; yea, and sacked +Their city. Now returning, as you see, +He sends her hither to his halls, no slave, +Nor unregarded, lady,--dream not so! +Since all his heart is kindled with desire. +I, O my Queen! thought meet to show thee all +The tale I chanced to gather from his mouth, +Which many heard as well as I, i' the midst +Of Trachis' market-place, and can confirm +My witness. I am pained if my plain speech +Sound harshly, but the honest truth I tell. + +DÊ. Ah me! Where am I? Whither am I fallen? +What hidden woe have I unwarily +Taken beneath my roof? O misery! +Was she unknown, as he that brought her sware? + +MESS. Nay, most distinguished both in birth and mien; +Called in her day of freedom Iolè, +Eurytus' daughter,--of whose parentage, +Forsooth as ignorant, he ne'er would speak. + +CH. I curse not all the wicked, but the man +Whose secret practices deform his life. + +DÊ. Say, maidens, how must I proceed? The words +Now spoken have bewildered all my mind. + +CH. Go in and question Lichas, who perchance +Will tell the truth if you but tax him home. + +DÊ. I will; you counsel reasonably. + +MESS. And I, +Shall I bide here till thou com'st forth? Or how? + +DÊ. Remain. For see, without my sending for him, +He issueth from the palace of himself. + +_Enter_ LICHAS. + +LICH. What message must I carry to my lord? +Tell me, my Queen. I am going, as thou seest. + +DÊ. So slow in coming, and so quickly flown, +Ere one have time to talk with thee anew! + +LICH. What wouldst thou ask me? I am bent to hear. + +DÊ. And art thou bent on truth in the reply? + +LICH. By Heaven! in all that I have knowledge of. + +DÊ. Then tell me, who is she thou brought'st with thee? + +LICH. An islander. I cannot trace her stock. + +MESS. Look hither, man. Who is't to whom thou speakest? + +LICH. Why such a question? What is thine intent? + +MESS. Nay, start not, but make answer if thou knowest. + +LICH. To Dêanira, Oeneus' queenly child, +Heracles' wife,--if these mine eyes be true,-- +My mistress. + +MESS. Ay, that is the very word +I longed to hear thee speak. Thy mistress, sayest? + +LICH. To whom I am bound. + +MESS. Hold there! What punishment +Wilt thou accept, if thou art found to be +Faithless to her? + +LICH. I faithless! What dark speech +Hast thou contrived? + +MESS. Not I at all. 'Tis thou +Dost wrap thy thoughts i' the dark. + +LICH. Well, I will go. +'Tis folly to have heard thee for so long. + +MESS. You go not till you answer one word more. + +LICH. One, or a thousand! You'll not stint, I see. + +MESS. Thou knowest the captive maid thou leddest home? + +LICH. I do. But wherefore ask? + +MESS. Did you not say +That she, on whom you look with ignorant eye, +Was Iolè, the daughter of the King, +Committed to your charge? + +LICH. Where? Among whom? +What witness of such words will bear thee out? + +MESS. Many and sound. A goodly company +In Trachis' market-place heard thee speak this. + +LICH. Ay. +I said 'twas rumoured. But I could not give +My vague impression for advised report. + +MESS. Impression, quotha! Did you not on oath +Proclaim your captive for your master's bride? + +LICH. My master's bride! Dear lady, by the Gods, +Who is the stranger? for I know him not. + +MESS. One who was present where he heard thee tell, +How that whole city was subdued and taken, +Not for the bondage to the Lydian girl, +But through the longing passion for this maid. + +LICH. Dear lady, let the fellow be removed. +To prate with madmen is mere foolishness. + +DÊ. Nay, I entreat thee by His name, whose fire +Lightens down Oeta's topmost glen, be not +A niggard of the truth. Thou tell'st thy tale +To no weak woman, but to one who knows +Mankind are never constant to one joy. +Whoso would buffet Love, aspires in vain. +For Love leads even Immortals at his will, +And me. Then how not others, like to me? +'Twere madness, sure, in me to blame my lord +When this hath caught him, or the woman there, +His innocent accomplice in a thing, +No shame to either, and no harm to me. +It is not so. But if from him thou learnest +The lore of falsehood, it were best unlearnt; +Or if the instruction comes of thine own thought, +Such would-be kindness doth not prove thee kind. +Then tell me all the truth. To one free-born +The name of liar is a hateful lot. +And thou canst not be hid. Thy news was heard +By many, who will tell me. If thou fearest, +Thou hast no cause--for doubtfulness is pain, +But to know all, what harm? His loves ere now +Were they not manifold? And none hath borne +Reproach or evil word from me. She shall not, +Though his new passion were as strong as death; +Since most mine eye hath pitied her, because +Her beauty was the ruin of her life, +And all unweeting, she her own bright land, +Poor hapless one! hath ravaged and enslaved.-- +Let that be as it must. But for thy part, +Though false to others, be still true to me. + +CH. 'Tis fairly said. Comply. Thou ne'er wilt blame +Her faithfulness, and thou wilt earn our loves. + +LICH. Yea, dear my Queen, now I have seen thee hold +Thy mortal wishes within mortal bound +So meekly, I will freely tell thee all. +It is as he avers. This maiden's love, +Piercing through Heracles, was the sole cause, +Why her Oechalia, land of plenteous woe, +Was made the conquest of his spear. And he-- +For I dare so far clear him--never bade +Concealment or denial. But myself, +Fearing the word might wound thy queenly heart, +Sinned, if thou count such tenderness a sin. +But now that all is known, for both your sakes, +His, and thine own no less, look favouringly +Upon the woman, and confirm the word +Thou here hast spoken in regard to her:-- +For he, whose might is in all else supreme, +Is wholly overmastered by her love. + +DÊ. Yea, so my mind is bent. I will do so. +I will not, in a bootless strife 'gainst Heaven, +Augment my misery with self-sought ill. +Come, go we in, that thou may'st bear from me +Such message as is meet, and also carry +Gifts, such as are befitting to return +For gifts new-given. Thou ought'st not to depart +Unladen, having brought so much with thee. [_Exeunt_ + +CHORUS. + Victorious in her might, I 1 + The Queen of soft delight + Still ranges onward with triumphant sway. + What she from Kronos' son + And strong Poseidon won, + And Pluto, King of Night, I durst not say. + But who, to earn this bride, + Came forth in sinewy pride + To strive, or e'er the nuptial might be known + With fearless heart I tell + What heroes wrestled well, + With showering blows, and dust in clouds upthrown. + + One was a river bold, I 2 + Horn-crowned, with tramp fourfold, + Bull Achelôüs, Acarnania's Fear; + And one from Bacchus' town, + Own son of Zeus, came down, + With brandished mace, bent bow, and barbèd spear. + Who then in battle brunt, + Together, front to front, + Hurled, eager both to win the beauteous prize; + And Cypris 'mid the fray + Alone, that dreadful day, + Sate umpire, holding promise in her eyes. + + Then clashed the fist, then clanged the bow; II + Then horns gave crashing blow for blow, + Whilst, as they clung, + The twining hip throw both essay + And hurtling foreheads' fearful play, + And groans from each were wrung. + + But the tender fair one far away + Sate watching with an eye of piteous cheer + (A mother's heart will heed the thing I say,) + Till won by him who freed her from her fear. + Sudden she leaves her mother's gentle side, + Borne through the waste, our hero's tender bride. + +_Enter_ DÊANIRA. + +DÊ. Dear friends, while yonder herald in the house +Holds converse with the captives ere he go, +I have stol'n forth to you, partly to tell +The craft my hand hath compassed, and in part, +To crave your pity for my wretchedness. +For I have taken to my hearth a maid,-- +And yet, methinks, no maiden any more, +Like some fond shipmaster, taking on board +A cargo fraught with treason to my heart. +And now we two are closed in one embrace +Beneath one coverlet. Such generous meed +For faith in guarding home this dreary while +Hath the kind Heracles our trusty spouse, +Sent in return! Yet, oft as he hath caught +This same distemperature, I know not how +To harbour indignation against him. +But who that is a woman could endure +To dwell with her, both married to one man? +One bloom is still advancing, one doth fade. +The budding flower is cropped, the full-blown head +Is left to wither, while love passeth by +Unheeding. Wherefore I am sore afraid +He will be called my husband, but her mate, +For she is younger. Yet no prudent wife +Would take this angerly, as I have said. +But, dear ones, I will tell you of a way, +Whereof I have bethought me, to prevent +This heart-break. I had hidden of long time +In a bronze urn the ancient Centaur's gift, +Which I, when a mere girl, culled from the wound +Of hairy-breasted Nessus in his death. +He o'er Evenus' rolling depths, for hire, +Ferried wayfarers on his arm, not plying +Or rowing-boat, or canvas-wingèd bark. +Who, when with Heracles, a new-made bride, +I followed by my father's sending forth, +Shouldering me too, in the mid-stream, annoyed +With wanton touch. And I cried out; and he, +Zeus' son, turned suddenly, and from his bow +Sent a wing'd shaft, that whizzed into his chest +To the lungs. Then the weird Thing, with dying voice +Spake to me:--'Child of aged Oeneüs, +Since thou wert my last burden, thou shalt win +Some profit from mine act, if thou wilt do +What now I bid thee. With a careful hand +Collect and bear away the clotted gore +That clogs my wound, e'en where the monster snake +Had dyed the arrow with dark tinct of gall; +And thou shalt have this as a charm of soul +For Heracles, that never through the eye +Shall he receive another love than thine.' +Whereof bethinking me, for since his death +I kept it in a closet locked with care, +I have applied it to this robe, with such +Addition as his living voice ordained.-- +The thing is done. No criminal attempts +Could e'er be mine. Far be they from my thought, +As I abhor the woman who conceives them! +But if by any means through gentle spells +And bonds on Heracles' affection, we +May triumph o'er this maiden in his heart, +My scheme is perfected. Unless you deem +Mine action wild. If so, I will desist. + +CH. If any ground of confidence approve +Thine act, we cannot check thy counsel here. + +DÊ. My confidence is grounded on belief, +Though unconfirmed as yet by actual proof. + +CH. Well, do it and try. Assurance cannot come +Till action bring experience after it. + +DÊ. The truth will soon be known. The man e'en now +Is coming forth, and quickly will be there. +Screen ye but well my counsel. Doubtful deeds, +Wrapt close, will not deliver us to shame. + +_Enter_ LICHAS. + +LICH. Daughter of Oeneus, tell me thy commands. +Already time rebukes our tardiness. + +DÊ. Even that hath been my care, Lichas, while thou +Wert talking to the stranger-maids within, +That thou shouldst take for me this finewoven web, +A present from these fingers to my lord. +And when thou giv'st it, say that none of men +Must wear it on his shoulders before him; +And neither light of sun may look upon it, +Nor holy temple-court, nor household flame, +Till he in open station 'fore the Gods +Display it on a day when bulls are slaughtered. +So once I vowed, that should I ever see +Or hear his safe return, I would enfold +His glorious person in this robe, and show +To all the Gods in doing sacrifice +Him a fresh worshipper in fresh array.-- +The truth hereof he will with ease descry +Betokened on this treasure-guarding seal.-- +Now go, and be advised, of this in chief, +To act within thine office; then of this, +To bear thee so, that from his thanks and mine +Meeting in one, a twofold grace may spring. + +LICH. If this my Hermes-craft be firm and sure, +Then never will I fail thee, O my Queen! +But I will show the casket as it is +To whom I bear it, and in faithfulness +Add all the words thou sendest in fit place. + +DÊ. Go, then, at once. Thou hast full cognizance +How things within the palace are preserved? + +LICH. I know, and will declare. There is no flaw. + +DÊ. Methinks thou knowest too, for thou hast seen, +My kind reception of the stranger-maid? + +LICH. I saw, and was amazed with heart-struck joy. + +DÊ. What more is there to tell?--Too rash, I fear, +Were thy report of longing on my part, +Till we can learn if we be longed for there. [_Exeunt severally_ + +CHORUS. + O ye that haunt the strand I 1 + Where ships in quiet land +Near Oeta's height and the warm rock-drawn well, +And ye round Melis' inland gulf who dwell, +Worshipping her who wields the golden wand,-- +(There Hellas' wisest meet in council strong): + Soon shall the flute arise + With sound of glad surprise, +Thrilling your sense with no unwelcome song, +But tones that to the harp of Heavenly Muse belong. + + Zeus' and Alcmena's son,-- I 2 + All deeds of glory done,-- +Speeds now triumphant to his home, whom we +Twelve weary months of blind expectancy +Lost in vast distance, from our country gone. +While, sadly languishing, his loving wife, + Still flowing down with tears, + Pined with unnumbered fears. +But Ares, lately stung to furious strife, +Frees him for ever[3] from the toilsome life. + + O let him come to-day! II + Ne'er may his vessel stay, +But glide with feathery sweep of many an oar, +Till from his altar by yon island shore +Even to our town he wind his prosperous way, + In mien returning mild, + And inly reconciled, +With that anointing in his heart ingrained, +Which the dark Centaur's wizard lips ordained. + +_Enter_ DÊANIRA. + +DÊ. O how I fear, my friends, lest all too far +I have ventured in my action of to-day! + +CH. What ails thee, Dêanira, Oeneus' child? + +DÊ. I know not, but am haunted by a dread, +Lest quickly I be found to have performed +A mighty mischief, through bright hopes betrayed. + +CH. Thou dost not mean thy gift to Heracles? + +DÊ. Indeed I do. Now I perceive how fond +Is eagerness, where actions are obscure. + +CH. Tell, if it may be told, thy cause of fear. + +DÊ. A thing is come to pass, which should I tell, +Will strike you with strange wonder when you learn. +For, O my friends, the stuff wherewith I dressed +That robe, a flock of soft and milkwhite wool, +Is shrivelled out of sight, not gnawn by tooth +Of any creature here, but, self-consumed, +Frittered and wasting on the courtyard-stones. + To let you know the circumstance at full, +I will speak on. Of all the Centaur-Thing, +When labouring in his side with the fell point +O' the shaft, enjoined me, I had nothing lost, +But his vaticination in my heart +Remained indelible, as though engraved +With pen of iron upon brass. 'Twas thus:-- +I was to keep this unguent closely hid +In dark recesses, where no heat of fire +Or warming ray might reach it, till with fresh +Anointing I addressed it to an end. +So I had done. And now this was to do, +Within my chamber covertly I spread +The ointment with piece of wool, a tuft +Pulled from a home-bred sheep; and, as ye saw, +I folded up my gift and packed it close +In hollow casket from the glaring sun. +But, entering in, a fact encounters me +Past human wit to fathom with surmise. +For, as it happened, I had tossed aside +The bit of wool I worked with, carelessly, +Into the open daylight, 'mid the blaze +Of Helios' beam. And, as it kindled warm, +It fell away to nothing, crumbled small, +Like dust in severing wood by sawyers strewn. +So, on the point of vanishing, it lay. +But, from the place where it had lain, brake forth +A frothy scum in clots of seething foam, +Like the rich draught in purple vintage poured +From Bacchus' vine upon the thirsty ground. +And I, unhappy, know not toward what thought +To turn me, but I see mine act is dire. +For wherefore should the Centaur, for what end, +Show kindness to the cause for whom he died? +That cannot be. But seeking to destroy +His slayer, he cajoled me. This I learn +Too late, by sad experience, for no good. +And, if I err not now, my hapless fate +Is all alone to be his murderess. +For, well I know, the shaft that made the wound +Gave pain to Cheiron, who was more than man; +And wheresoe'er it falls, it ravageth +All the wild creatures of the world. And now +This gory venom blackly spreading bane +From Nessus' angry wound, must it not cause +The death of Heracles? I think it must. + Yet my resolve is firm, if aught harm him, +My death shall follow in the self-same hour. +She cannot bear to live in evil fame, +Who cares to have a nature pure from ill. + +CH. Horrid mischance must needs occasion fear. +But Hope is not condemned before the event. + +DÊ. In ill-advised proceeding not even Hope +Remains to minister a cheerful mind. + +CH. Yet to have erred unwittingly abates +The fire of wrath; and thou art in this case. + +DÊ. So speaks not he who hath a share of sin, +But who is clear of all offence at home. + +CH. 'Twere well to say no more, unless thou hast aught +To impart to thine own son: for he is here, +Who went erewhile to find his father forth. + +HYLLUS _(re-entering)_. +O mother, mother! +I would to heaven one of three things were true: +Either that thou wert dead, or, living, wert +No mother to me, or hadst gained a mind +Furnished with better thoughts than thou hast now! + +DÊ. My son! what canst thou so mislike in me? + +HYL. I tell thee thou this day hast been the death +Of him that was thy husband and my sire. + +DÊ. What word hath passed thy lips? my child, my child! + +HYL. A word that must be verified. For who +Can make the accomplished fact as things undone? + +DÊ. Alas, my son! what saidst thou? Who hath told +That I have wrought a deed so full of woe? + +HYL. 'Twas I myself that saw with these mine eyes +My father's heavy state:--no hearsay word. + +DÊ. And where didst thou come near him and stand by? + +HYL. Art thou to hear it? On, then, with my tale! +When after sacking Eurytus' great city +He marched in triumph with first-fruits of war,-- +There is a headland, last of long Euboea, +Surf-beat Cenaeum,--where to his father Zeus +He dedicates high altars and a grove. +There first I saw him, gladdened from desire. +And when he now addressed him to the work +Of various sacrifice, the herald Lichas +Arrived from home, bearing thy fatal gift, +The deadly robe: wherewith invested straight, +As thou hadst given charge, he sacrificed +The firstlings of the spoil, twelve bulls entire, +Each after each. But the full count he brought +Was a clear hundred of all kinds of head. + Then the all-hapless one commenced his prayer +In solemn gladness for the bright array. +But presently, when from the holy things, +And from the richness of the oak-tree core, +There issued flame mingled with blood, a sweat +Rose on his flesh, and close to every limb +Clung, like stone-drapery from the craftsman's hand, +The garment, glued unto his side. Then came +The tearing pangs within his bones, and then +The poison feasted like the venomed tooth +Of murderous basilisk.--When this began, +He shouted on poor Lichas, none to blame +For thy sole crime, 'What guile is here, thou knave? +What was thy fraud in fetching me this robe?' +He, all-unknowing, in an evil hour +Declared his message, that the gift was thine. +Whereat the hero, while the shooting spasm +Had fastened on the lungs, seized him by the foot +Where the ankle turns i' the socket, and, with a thought, +Hurl'd on a surf-vex'd reef that showed i' the sea: +And rained the grey pulp from the hair, the brain +Being scattered with the blood. Then the great throng +Saddened their festival with piteous wail +For one in death and one in agony. +And none had courage to approach my sire,-- +Convulsed upon the ground, then tossed i' the air +With horrid yells and crying, till the cliffs +Echoed round, the mountain-promontories +Of Locris, and Euboea's rugged shore. +Wearied at length with flinging on the earth, +And shrieking oft with lamentable cry, +Cursing the fatal marriage with thyself +The all-wretched, and the bond to Oeneus' house, +That prize that was the poisoner of his peace, +He lifted a wild glance above the smoke +That hung around, and 'midst the crowd of men +Saw me in tears, and looked on me and said, +'O son, come near; fly not from my distress, +Though thou shouldst be consumèd in my death, +But lift and bear me forth; and, if thou mayest, +Set me where no one of mankind shall see me. +But if thy heart withhold thee, yet convey me +Out of this land as quickly as ye may. +Let me not die where I am now.' We then, +Thus urgently commanded, laid him down +Within our bark, and hardly to this shore +Rowed him convulsed and roaring.--Presently, +He will appear, alive or lately dead. + Such, mother, is the crime thou hast devised +And done against our sire, wherefore let Right +And Vengeance punish thee!--May I pray so? +I may: for thou absolv'st me by thy deed, +Thou that hast slain the noblest of the Earth, +Thy spouse, whose like thou ne'er wilt see again. [_Exit_ DÊANIRA. + +CH. Why steal'st thou forth in silence? Know'st thou not +Thy silence argues thine accuser's plea? + +HYL. Let her go off. Would that a sudden flood +Might sweep her far and swiftly from mine eye! +Why fondle vainly the fair-sounding name +Of mother, when her acts are all unmotherly? +Let her begone for me: and may she find +Such joy as she hath rendered to my sire! [_Exit_ HYLLUS + +CHORUS. + See where falls the doom, of old I 1 + By the unerring Voice foretold,-- + 'When twelve troublous years have rolled, + Then shall end your long desire: + Toil on toil no more shall tire + The offspring of the Eternal Sire.' + Lo! the destined Hour is come! + Lo! it hath brought its burden home. + For when the eyes have looked their last + How should sore labour vex again? + How, when the powers of will and thought are past, + Should life be any more enthralled to pain? + + And if Nessus' withering shroud, I 2 + Wrought by destiny and craft, + Steep him in a poisonous cloud. + Steaming from the venomed shaft, + Which to Death in hideous lair + The many-wreathed Hydra bare, + How shall he another day + Feel the glad warmth of Helios' ray?-- + Enfolded by the Monster-Thing + Of Lerna, while the cruel sting + Of the shagg'd Centaur's murderous-guileful tongue + Breaks forth withal to do him painful wrong. + + And she, poor innocent, who saw II 1 + Checkless advancing to the gate + A mighty harm unto her state,-- + This rash young bridal without fear of law,-- + Gave not her will to aught that caused this woe, + But since it came through that strange mind's conceiving,-- + That ruined her in meeting,--deeply grieving, + She mourns with dewy tears in tenderest flow. + The approaching hour appeareth great with woe: + Some guile-born misery doth Fate foreshow. + + The springs of sorrow are unbound, II 2 + And such an agony disclose, + As never from the hands of foes + To afflict the life of Heracles was found. + O dark with battle-stains, world-champion spear, + That from Oechalia's highland leddest then + This bride that followed swiftly in thy train, + How fatally overshadowing was thy fear! + But these wild sorrows all too clearly come + From Love's dread minister[4], disguised and dumb. + +CH. 1. + Am I a fool, or do I truly hear + Lament new-rising from our master's home? + Tell! + +CH. 2. + Clearly from within a wailing voice + Peals piteously. The house hath some fresh woe. + +CH. 3. + Mark! + How strangely, with what cloud upon her brow, + Yon aged matron with her tidings moves! + +_Enter_ Nurse. + +NURSE. Ah! mighty, O my daughters! was the grief +Sprung from the gift to Heracles conveyed! + +LEADER OF CH. What new thing is befallen? Why speak'st thou so? + +NUR. Our Queen hath found her latest journey's end. +Even now she is gone, without the help of feet. + +CH. Not dead? + +NUR. You know the whole. + +CH. Dead! hapless Queen! + +NUR. The truth hath twice been told. + +CH. O tell us how! +What was her death, poor victim of dire woe? + +NUR. Most ruthless was the deed. + +CH. Say, woman, say! +What was the sudden end? + +NUR. Herself she slew. + +CH. What rage, what madness, clutched +The mischief-working brand? +How could her single thought +Contrive the accomplishment of death on death? + +NUR. Chill iron stopped the sources of her breath. + +CH. And thou, poor helpless crone, didst see this done? + +NUR. Yea, I stood near and saw. + +CH. How was it? Tell! + +NUR. With her own hand this violence was given. + +CH. What do I hear? + +NUR. The certainty of truth. + +CH. A child is come, +From this new bridal that hath rushed within, +A fresh-born Fury of woe! + +NUR. Too true. But hadst thou been at hand to see +Her action, pity would have wrung thy soul. + +CH. Could this be ventured by a woman's hand? + +NUR. Ay, and in dreadful wise, as thou shalt hear. +When all alone she had gone within the gate, +And passing through the court beheld her boy +Spreading the couch that should receive his sire, +Ere he returned to meet him,--out of sight +She hid herself, and fell at the altar's foot, +And loudly cried that she was left forlorn; +And, taking in her touch each household thing +That formerly she used, poor lady, wept +O'er all; and then went ranging through the rooms, +Where, if there caught her eye the well-loved form +Of any of her household, she would gaze +And weep aloud, accusing her own fate +And her abandoned lot, childless henceforth! +When this was ended, suddenly I see her +Fly to the hero's room of genial rest. +With unsuspected gaze o'ershadowed near, +I watched, and saw her casting on the bed +The finest sheets of all. When that was done, +She leapt upon the couch where they had lain +And sat there in the midst. And the hot flood +Burst from her eyes before she spake:--'Farewell, +My bridal bed, for never more shalt thou +Give me the comfort I have known thee give.' +Then with tight fingers she undid her robe, +Where the brooch lay before the breast, and bared +All her left arm and side. I, with what speed +Strength ministered, ran forth to tell her son +The act she was preparing. But meanwhile, +Ere we could come again, the fatal blow +Fell, and we saw the wound. And he, her boy, +Seeing, wept aloud. For now the hapless youth +Knew that himself had done this in his wrath, +Told all too late i' the house, how she had wrought +Most innocently, from the Centaur's wit. +So now the unhappy one, with passionate words +And cries and wild embracings of the dead, +Groaned forth that he had slain her with false breath +Of evil accusation, and was left +Orphaned of both, his mother and his sire. + Such is the state within. What fool is he +That counts one day, or two, or more to come? +To-morrow is not, till the present day +In fair prosperity have passed away. [_Exit_ + +CHORUS. + Which shall come first in my wail, I 1 + Which shall be last to prevail, + Is a doubt that will never be done. + + Trouble at home may be seen, I 2 + Trouble is looked for with teen; + And to have and to look for are one. + + Would some fair wind II 1 + But waft me forth to roam + Far from the native region of my home, + Ere death me find, oppressed with wild affright + Even at the sudden sight + Of him, the valiant son of Zeus most High! + Before the house, they tell, he fareth nigh, + A wonder beyond thought, + With torment unapproachable distraught. + + Hark! ... II 2 + The cause then of my cry + Was coming all too nigh: + (Doth the clear nightingale lament for nought?) + Some step of stranger folk is this way brought. + As for a friend they love + Heavy and slow with noiseless feet they move. + Which way? which way? Ah me! behold him come. + His pallid lips are dumb. + Dead, or at rest in sleep? What shall I say? + [HERACLES _is brought in on a litter, accompanied + by_ HYLLUS _and an_ Old Man + +HYL. Oh, woe is me! + My father, piteous woe for thee! + Oh, whither shall I turn my thought! Ah me! + +OLD M. Hush! speak not, O my child, + Lest torment fierce and wild + Rekindle in thy father's rugged breast, + And break this rest + Where now his life is held at point to fall. + With firm lips clenched refrain thy voice through all. + +HYL. Yet tell me, doth he live, + Old sir? + +OLD M. Wake not the slumberer, + Nor kindle and revive + The terrible recurrent power of pain, + My son! + +HYL. My foolish words are done, + But my full heart sinks 'neath the heavy strain. + +HERACLES. O Father, who are these? + What countrymen? Where am I? What far land + Holds me in pain that ceaseth not? Ah me! + Again that pest is rending me. Pain, pain! + +OLD M. Now thou may'st know + 'Twas better to have lurked in silent shade + And not thus widely throw + The slumber from his eyelids and his head. + +HYL. I could not brook + All speechless on his misery to look. + +MONODY. + +HER. O altar on the Euboean strand, + High-heaped with offerings from my hand, + What meed for lavish gifts bestowed + From thy new sanctuary hath flowed! + Father of Gods! thy cruel power + Hath foiled me with an evil blight. + Ah! would mine eyes had closed in night + Ere madness in a fatal hour + Had burst upon them with a blaze, + No help or soothing once allays! + + What hand to heal, what voice to charm, + Can e'er dispel this hideous harm? + Whose skill save thine, + Monarch Divine? + Mine eyes, if such I saw, + Would hail him from afar with trembling awe. + Ah! ah! + O vex me not, touch me not, leave me to rest, + To sleep my last sleep on Earth's gentle breast. + You touch me, you press me, you turn me again, + You break me, you kill me! O pain! O pain! + You have kindled the pang that had slumbered still. + It comes, it hath seized me with tyrannous will! + + Where are ye, men, whom over Hellas wide + This arm hath freed, and o'er the ocean-tide, + And through rough brakes, from every monstrous thing? + Yet now in mine affliction none will bring + A sword to aid, a fire to quell this fire, + O most unrighteous! nor to my desire + Will come and quench the hateful life I hold + With mortal stroke! Ah! is there none so bold? + +OLD M. Son of our hero, this hath mounted past + My feeble force to cope with. Take him thou! + Fresher thine eye and more the hope thou hast + Than mine to save him. + +HYL. I support him now + Thus with mine arm: but neither fleshly vest + Nor inmost spirit can I lull to rest + From torture. None may dream + To wield this power, save he, the King supreme. + +HER. Son! + Where art thou to lift me and hold me aright? + It tears me, it kills me, it rushes in might, + This cruel, devouring, unconquered pain + Shoots forth to consume me. Again! again! + O Fate! O Athena!--O son, at my word + Have pity and slay me with merciful sword! + + Pity thy father, boy; with sharp relief + Smite on my breast, and heal the wrathful grief + Wherewith thy mother, God-abandoned wife, + Hath wrought this ruin on her husband's life. + O may I see her falling, even so + As she hath thrown me, to like depth of woe! + Sweet Hades, with swift death, + Brother of Zeus, release my suffering breath! + +CH. Horror hath caught me as I hear this, woe, +Racking our mighty one with mightier pain. + +HER. Many hot toils and hard beyond report, +With sturdy thews and sinews I have borne, +But no such labour hath the Thunderer's wife +Or sour Eurystheus ever given, as this, +Which Oeneus' daughter of the treacherous eye +Hath fastened on my back, this amply-woven +Net of the Furies, that is breaking me. +For, glued unto my side, it hath devoured +My flesh to the bone, and lodging in the lungs +It drains the vital channels, and hath drunk +The fresh life-blood, and ruins all my frame, +Foiled in the tangle of a viewless bond. +Yet me nor War-host, nor Earth's giant brood, +Nor Centaur's monstrous violence could subdue, +Nor Hellas, nor the Stranger, nor all lands +Where I have gone, cleansing the world from harms. +But a soft woman without manhood's strain +Alone and weaponless hath conquered me. +Son, let me know thee mine true-born, nor rate +Thy mother's claim beyond thy sire's, but bring +Thyself from out the chambers to my hand +Her body that hath borne thee, that my heart +May be assured, if lesser than my pain +It will distress thee to behold her limbs +With righteous torment agonized and torn. +Nay, shrink not, son, but pity me, whom all +May pity--me, who, like a tender girl, +Am heard to weep aloud! This none could say +He knew in me of old; for, murmuring not, +I went with evil fortune, silent still. +Now, such a foe hath found the woman in me! + Ay, but come near; stand by me, and behold +What cause I have for crying. Look but here! +Here is the mystery unveiled. O see! +Ye people, gaze on this poor quivering flesh, +Look with compassion on my misery! +Ah me! +Ah! ah! Again! +Even now the hot convulsion of disease +Shoots through my side, and will not let me rest +From this fierce exercise of wearing woe. +Take me, O King of Night! +O sudden thunderstroke. +Smite me! O sire, transfix me with the dart +Of thy swift lightning! Yet again that fang +Is tearing; it hath blossomed forth anew, +It soars up to the height! + + O breast and back, +O shrivelling arms and hands, ye are the same +That crushed the dweller of the Némean wild, +The lion unapproachable and rude, +The oxherd's plague, and Hydra of the lake +Of Lerna, and the twi-form prancing throng +Of Centaurs,--insolent, unsociable, +Lawless, ungovernable:--the tuskèd pest +Of Erymanthine glades; then underground +Pluto's three-headed cur--a perilous fear, +Born from the monster-worm; and, on the verge +Of Earth, the dragon, guarding fruits of gold. +These toils and others countless I have tried, +And none hath triumphed o'er me. But to-day, +Jointless and riven to tatters, I am wrecked +Thus utterly by imperceptible woe; +I, proudly named Alcmena's child, and His +Who reigns in highest heaven, the King supreme! + Ay, but even yet, I tell ye, even from here, +Where I am nothingness and cannot move, +She who hath done this deed shall feel my power. +Let her come near, that, mastered by my might, +She may have this to tell the world, that, dying, +As living, I gave punishment to wrong. + +CH. O Hellas, how I grieve for thy distress! +How thou wilt mourn in losing him we see! + +HYL. My father, since thy silence gives me leave, +Still hear me patiently, though in thy pain! +For my request is just. Lend me thy mind +Less wrathfully distempered than 'tis now; +Else thou canst never know, where thou art keen +With vain resentment and with vain desire + +HER. Speak what thou wilt and cease, for I in pain +Catch not the sense of thy mysterious talk + +HYL. I come to tell thee of my mother's case, +And her involuntary unconscious fault. + +HER. Base villain! hast thou breathed thy mother's name, +Thy father's murderess, in my hearing too! + +HYL. Her state requires not silence, but full speech. + +HER. Her faults in former time might well be told. + +HYL. So might her fault to day, couldst thou but know. + +HER. Speak, but beware base words disgrace thee not. + +HYL. List! She is dead even now with new-given wound. + +HER. By whom? Thy words flash wonder through my woe. + +HYL. Her own hand slaughtered her, no foreign stroke. + +HER. Wretch! to have reft this office from my hands. + +HYL. Even your rash spirit were softened, if you knew. + +HER. This bodes some knavery. But declare thy thought! + +HYL. She erred with good intent. The whole is said. + +HER. Good, O thou villain, to destroy thy sire! + +HYL. When she perceived that marriage in her home, +She erred, supposing to enchain thy love. + +HER. Hath Trachis a magician of such might? + +HYL. Long since the Centaur Nessus moved her mind +To work this charm for heightening thy desire. + +HER. O horror, thou art here! I am no more. +My day is darkened, boy! Undone, undone! +I see our plight too plainly. woe is me! +Come, O my son! --thou hast no more a father,-- +Call to me all the brethren of thy blood, +And poor Alcmena, wedded all in vain +Unto the Highest, that ye may hear me tell +With my last breath what prophecies I know. + +HYL. Thy mother is not here, but by the shore +Of Tiryns hath obtained a dwelling-place; +And of thy sons, some she hath with her there, +And some inhabit Thebè's citadel. +But we who are with thee, sire, if there be aught +That may by us be done, will hear, and do. + +HER. Then hearken thou unto this task, and show +If worthily thou art reputed mine. +Now is time to prove thee. My great father +Forewarned me long ago that I should die +By none who lived and breathed, but from the will +Of one now dwelling in the house of death. +And so this Centaur, as the voice Divine +Then prophesied, in death hath slain me living. +And in agreement with that ancient word +I now interpret newer oracles +Which I wrote down on going within the grove +Of the hill-roving and earth-couching Selli,-- +Dictated to me by the mystic tongue +Innumerous, of my Father's sacred tree; +Declaring that my ever instant toils +Should in the time that new hath being and life +End and release me. And I look'd for joy. +But the true meaning plainly was my death.-- +No labour is appointed for the dead.-- +Then, since all argues one event, my son, +Once more thou must befriend me, and not wait +For my voice goading thee, but of thyself +Submit and second my resolve, and know +Filial obedience for thy noblest rule. + +HYL. I will obey thee, father, though my heart +Sinks heavily in approaching such a theme. + +HER. Before aught else, lay thy right hand in mine. + +HYL. Why so intent on this assurance, sire? + +HER. Give it at once and be not froward, boy. + +HYL. There is my hand: I will gainsay thee nought. + +HER. Swear by the head of him who gave me life. + +HYL. Tell me the oath, and I will utter it. + +HER. Swear thou wilt do the thing I bid thee do. + +HYL. I swear, and make Zeus witness of my troth. + +HER. But if you swerve, pray that the curse may come. + +HYL. It will not come for swerving:--but I pray. + +HER. Now, dost thou know on Oeta's topmost height +The crag of Zeus? + +HYL. I know it, and full oft +Have stood there sacrificing. + +HER. Then even there, +With thine own hand uplifting this my body, +Taking what friends thou wilt, and having lopped +Much wood from the deep-rooted oak and rough +Wild olive, lay me on the gathered pile, +And burn all with the touch of pine-wood flame. +Let not a tear of mourning dim thine eye; +But silent, with dry gaze, if thou art mine, +Perform it. Else my curse awaits thee still +To weigh thee down when I am lost in night. + +HYL. How cruel, O my father, is thy tongue! + +HER. 'Tis peremptory. Else, if thou refuse, +Be called another's and be no more mine. + +HYL. Alas that thou shouldst challenge me to this, +To be thy murderer, guilty of thy blood! + +HER. Not I, in sooth: but healer of my pain, +And sole preserver from a life of woe. + +HYL. How can it heal to burn thee on the pyre? + +HER. If this act frighten thee, perform the rest. + +HYL. Mine arms shall not refuse to carry thee. + +HER. And wilt thou gather the appointed wood? + +HYL. So my hand fire it not. In all but this, +Not scanting labour, I will do my part. + +HER. Enough. 'Tis well. And having thus much given +Add one small kindness to a list so full. + +HYL. How great soe'er it were, it should be done. + +HER. The maid of Eurytus thou knowest, I ween. + +HYL. Of Iolè thou speak'st, or I mistake. + +HER. Of her. This then is all I urge, my son. +When I am dead, if thou wouldst show thy duty, +Think of thine oath to me, and, on my word, +Make her thy wife: nor let another man +Take her, but only thou; since she hath lain +So near this heart. Obey me, O my boy! +And be thyself the maker of this bond. +To spurn at trifles after great things given, +Were to confound the meed already won. + +HYL. Oh, anger is not right, when men are ill! +But who could bear to see thee in this mind? + +HER. You murmur, as you meant to disobey. + +HYL. How can I do it, when my mother's death +And thy sad state sprang solely from this girl? +Who, not possessed with furies, could choose this? +Far better, father, for me too to die, +Than to live still with my worst enemy. + +HER. This youth withdraws his reverence in my death. +But, if thou yield'st not to thy father's best, +The curse from Heaven shall dog thy footsteps still. + +HYL. Ah! thou wilt tell me that thy pain is come. + +HER. Yea, for thou wak'st the torment that had slept. + +HYL. Ay me! how cross and doubtful is my way! + +HER. Because you will reject your father's word. + +HYL. Must I be taught impiety from thee? + +HER. It is not impious to content my heart. + +HYL. Then you require this with an absolute will? + +HER. And bid Heaven witness to my strong command. + +HYL. Then I will do it, for the act is thine. +I will not cast it off. Obeying thee, +My sire, the Gods will ne'er reprove my deed. + +HER. Thou endest fairly. Now, then, O my son, +Add the performance swiftly, that, before +Some spasm or furious onset of my pain +Have seized me, ye may place me on the pyre. +Come, loiter not, but lift me. Now my end +Is near, the last cessation of my woe. + +HYL. Since thy command is urgent, O my sire! +We tarry not, but bear thee to the pyre. + +HER. Stubborn heart, ere yet again + Wakes the fierce rebound of pain, + While the evil holds aloof, + Thou, with bit of diamond proof, + Curb thy cry, with forcèd will + Seeming to do gladly still! + +HYL. Lift him, men, and hate not me + For the evil deeds ye see, + Since the Heavens' relentless sway + Recks not of the righteous way. + He who gave life and doth claim + From his seed a Father's name + Can behold this hour of blame. + Though the future none can tell, + Yet the present is not well: + Sore for him who bears the blow, + Sad for us who feel his woe, + Shameful to the Gods, we trow. + +CH. Maidens from the palace-hall, + Come ye forth, too, at our call! + Mighty deaths beyond belief, + Many an unknown form of grief, + Ye have seen to-day; and nought + But the power of Zeus hath wrought. + + * * * * * + + + + + PHILOCTETES + + + THE PERSONS + +ODYSSEUS. +NEOPTOLEMUS. +CHORUS _of Mariners_. +PHILOCTETES. +Messenger, _disguised as a Merchantman_. +HERACLES, _appearing from the sky_. + + +SCENE. A desert shore of the Island of Lemnos. + + + + +It was fated that Troy should be taken by Neoptolemus, the son of +Achilles, assisted by the bow of Heracles in the hands of Philoctetes. + +Now Philoctetes had been rejected by the army because of a trouble in +his foot, which made his presence with them insufferable; and had been +cast away by Odysseus on the island of Lemnos. + +But when the decree of fate was revealed by prophecy, Odysseus +undertook to bring Philoctetes back, and took with him Neoptolemus, +whose ambition could only be gratified through the return of +Philoctetes with the bow. + +Philoctetes was resolutely set against returning, and at the opening +of the drama Neoptolemus is persuaded by Odysseus to take him with +guile. + +But when Philoctetes appears, the youth's ingenuous nature is so +wrought upon through pity and remorse, that his sympathy and native +truthfulness at length overcome his ambition. + +When the inward sacrifice is complete, Heracles appears from heaven, +and by a few words changes the mind of Philoctetes, so that all ends +well. + + + + + PHILOCTETES + + +ODYSSEUS. NEOPTOLEMUS. + +ODYSSEUS. This coast of sea-girt Lemnos, where we stand, +Is uninhabited, untrodden of men. +And here, O noble son of noblest sire, +Achilles-born Neoptolemus, I erewhile,-- +Ordered by those who had command,--cast forth +Trachinian Philoctetes, Poeas' son, +His foot dark-dripping with a rankling wound; +When with wild cries, that frighted holy rest, +Filling the camp, he troubled every rite, +That none might handle sacrifice, or pour +Wine-offering, but his noise disturbed our peace. + But why these words? No moment this for talk, +Lest he discern my coming, and I lose +The scheme, wherewith I think to catch him soon. +Now most behoves thy service, to explore +This headland for a cave with double mouth, +Whose twofold aperture, on wintry days, +Gives choice of sunshine, and in summer noons +The breeze wafts slumber through the airy cell. +Then, something lower down, upon the left, +Unless 'tis dried, thine eye may note a spring. +Go near now silently, and make me know +If still he persevere, and hold this spot, +Or have roamed elsewhere, that informed of this +I may proceed with what remains to say, +And we may act in concert. + +NEOPTOLEMUS. Lord Odysseus, +Thy foremost errand will not task me far. +Methinks I see the cave whereof thou speakest. + +OD. Where? let me see it. Above there, or below? + +NEO. Yonder, above. And yet I hear no tread. + [NEOPTOLEMUS _climbs up to the cave_ + +OD. Look if he be not lodged in slumber there. + +NEO. I find no inmate, but an empty room. + +OD. What? no provision for a dwelling-place? + +NEO. A bed of leaves for some one harbouring here. + +OD. Nought else beneath the roof? Is all forlorn? + +NEO. A cup of wood, some untaught craftsman's skill, +And, close at hand, these embers of a fire. + +OD. That store is his. I read the token clear. + +NEO. Oh! and these festering rags give evidence, +Steeped as with dressing some malignant sore. + +OD. The man inhabits here: I know it now. +And sure he's not far off. How can he range, +Whose limb drags heavy with an ancient harm? +But he's gone, either to bring forage home, +Or where he hath found some plant of healing power. +Send therefore thine attendant to look forth, +Lest unawares he find me. All our host +Were not so fair a prize for him as I. + +NEO. My man is going, and shall watch the path. +What more dost thou require of me? Speak on. + +OD. Son of Achilles, know that thou art come +To serve us nobly, not with strength alone, +But, faithful to thy mission, if so be, +To do things strange, unwonted to thine ear. + +NEO. What dost thou bid me? + +OD. 'Tis thy duty now +To entrap the mind of Poeas' son with words. +When he shall ask thee, who and whence thou art, +Declare thy name and father. 'Tis not that +I charge thee to conceal. But for thy voyage, +'Tis homeward, leaving the Achaean host, +With perfect hatred hating them, because +They who had drawn thee with strong prayers from home, +Their hope for taking Troy, allowed thee not +Thy just demand to have thy father's arms, +But, e'er thy coming, wrongly gave them o'er +Unto Odysseus: and thereon launch forth +With boundless execration against me. +That will not pain me, but if thou reject +This counsel, thou wilt trouble all our host, +Since, if his bow shall not be ta'en, thy life +Will ne'er be crowned through Troy's discomfiture. + Now let me show, why thine approach to him +Is safe and trustful as mine cannot be +Thou didst sail forth, not to redeem thine oath, +Nor by constraint, nor with the foremost band. +All which reproaches I must bear: and he, +But seeing me, while master of his bow, +Will slay me, and my ruin will be thine. +This point then craves our cunning, to acquire +By subtle means the irresistible bow-- +Thy nature was not framed, I know it well, +For speaking falsehood, or contriving harm. +Yet, since the prize of victory is so dear, +Endure it--We'll be just another day +But now, for one brief hour, devote thyself +To serve me without shame, and then for aye +Hereafter be the pearl of righteousness. + +NEO. The thing that, being named, revolts mine ear, +Son of Laërtes, I abhor to do +'Tis not my nature, no, nor, as they tell, +My father's, to work aught by craft and guile. +I'll undertake to bring him in by force, +Not by deceit. For, sure, with his one foot, +He cannot be a match for all our crew +Being sent, my lord, to serve thee, I am loth +To seem rebellious. But I rather choose +To offend with honour, than to win by wrong. + +OD. Son of a valiant sire, I, too, in youth, +Had once a slow tongue and an active hand. +But since I have proved the world, I clearly see +Words and not deeds give mastery over men. + +NEO. What then is thy command? To lie? No more? + +OD. To entangle Philoctetes with deceit. + +NEO. Why through deceit? May not persuasion fetch him? + +OD. Never. And force as certainly will fail. + +NEO. What lends him such assurance of defence? + +OD. Arrows, the unerring harbingers of Death. + +NEO. Then to go near him is a perilous thing. + +OD. Unless with subtlety, as I have said. + +NEO. And is not lying shameful to thy soul? + +OD. Not if by lying I can save my soul. + +NEO. How must one look in speaking such a word? + +OD. Where gain invites, this shrinking is not good. + +NEO. What gain I through his coming back to Troy? + +OD. His arms alone have power to take Troy-town. + +NEO. Then am not I the spoiler, as ye said? + +OD. Thou without them, they without thee, are powerless. + +NEO. If it be so, they must be sought and won. + +OD. Yea, for in this two prizes will be thine. + +NEO. What? When I learn them, I will not refuse. + +OD. Wisdom and valour joined in one good name. + +NEO. Shame, to the winds! Come, I will do this thing. + +OD. Say, dost thou bear my bidding full in mind? + +NEO. Doubt not, since once for all I have embraced it. + +OD. Thou, then, await him here. I will retire, +For fear my hated presence should be known, +And take back our attendant to the ship. +And then once more, should ye appear to waste +The time unduly, I will send again +This same man hither in disguise, transformed +To the strange semblance of a merchantman; +From dark suggestion of whose crafty tongue, +Thou, O my son, shalt gather timely counsel. + Now to my ship. This charge I leave to thee. +May secret Hermes guide us to our end, +And civic Pallas, named of victory, +The sure protectress of my devious way. + +CHORUS (_entering_). + Strange in the stranger land, I 1 + What shall I speak? What hide + From a heart suspicious of ill? + Tell me, O master mine! + Wise above all is the man, + Peerless in searching thought, + Who with the Zeus-given wand + Wieldeth a Heaven-sent power. + This unto thee, dear son, + Fraught with ancestral might, + This to thy life hath come. + Wherefore I bid thee declare, + What must I do for thy need? + +NEO. Even now methinks thou longest to espy +Near ocean's marge the place where he doth lie. +Gaze without fear. But when the traveller stern, +Who from this roof is parted, shall return, +Advancing still as I the signal give, +To serve each moment's mission thou shalt strive. + +CH. That, O my son, from of old I 2 + Hath been my care, to take note + What by thy beck'ning is told; + Still thy success to promote. + But for our errand to-day + Behoves thee, master, to say + Where is the hearth of his home; + Or where even now doth he roam? + O tell me, lest all unaware + He spring like a wolf from his lair + And I by surprise should be ta'en, + Where doth he move or remain, + Here lodging, or wandering away? + +NEO. Thou seëst yon double doorway of his cell, +Poor habitation of the rock. + +CH. 2. But tell +Where is the pain-worn wight himself abroad? + +NEO. To me 'tis clear, that, in his quest for food, +Here, not far off, he trails yon furrowed path. +For, so 'tis told, this mode the sufferer hath +Of sustenance, oh hardness! bringing low +Wild creatures with wing'd arrows from his bow; +Nor findeth healer for his troublous woe. + +CH. I feel his misery. II 1 + With no companion eye, + Far from all human care, + He pines with fell disease; + Each want he hourly sees + Awakening new despair. + How can he bear it still? + O cruel Heavens! O pain + Of that afflicted mortal train + Whose life sharp sorrows fill! + + Born in a princely hall, II 2 + Highest, perchance, of all, + Now lies he comfortless + Alone in deep distress, + 'Mongst rough and dappled brutes, + With pangs and hunger worn; + While from far distance shoots, + On airy pinion borne, + The unbridled Echo, still replying + To his most bitter crying. + +NEO. At nought of this I marvel--for if I +Judge rightly, there assailed him from on high +That former plague through Chrysa's cruel sting[1]: +And if to-day he suffer anything +With none to soothe, it must be from the will +Of some great God, so caring to fulfil +The word of prophecy, lest he should bend +On Troy the shaft no mortal may forfend, +Before the arrival of Troy's destined hour, +When she must fall, o'er-mastered by their power. + +CH. 1. Hush, my son! III 1 + +NEO. Why so? + +CH. 1. A sound +Gendered of some mortal woe, +Started from the neighbouring ground. +Here, or there? Ah! now I know. +Hark! 'tis the voice of one in pain, +Travelling hardly, the deep strain +Of human anguish, all too clear, +That smites my heart, that wounds mine ear. + +CH. 2. From far it peals. But thou, my son! III 2 + +NEO. What? + +CH. 2. Think again. He moveth nigh: +He holds the region: not with tone +Of piping shepherd's rural minstrelsy, +But belloweth his far cry, +Stumbling perchance with mortal pain, + Or else in wild amaze, + As he our ship surveys +Unwonted on the inhospitable main. + +_Enter_ PHILOCTETES. + +PHILOCTETES. Ho! +What men are ye that to this desert shore, +Harbourless, uninhabited, are come +On shipboard? Of what country or what race +Shall I pronounce ye? For your outward garb +Is Grecian, ever dearest to this heart +That hungers now to hear your voices' tune. +Ah! do not fear me, do not shrink away +From my wild looks: but, pitying one so poor, +Forlorn and desolate in nameless woe, +Speak, if with friendly purpose ye are come. +Oh answer! 'Tis not meet that I should lose +This kindness from your lips, or ye from mine. + +NEO. Then know this first, O stranger, as thou wouldest, +That we are Greeks. + +PHI. O dear, dear name! Ah me! +In all these years, once, only once, I hear it! +My son, what fairest gale hath wafted thee? +What need hath brought thee to the shore? What mission? +Declare all this, that I may know thee well. + +NEO. The sea-girt Scyros is my native home. +Thitherward I make voyage:--Achilles' son, +Named Neoptolemus.--I have told thee all. + +PHI. Dear is that shore to me, dear is thy father +O ancient Lycomedes' foster-child, +Whence cam'st thou hither? How didst thou set forth? + +NEO. From Troy we made our course in sailing hither. + +PHI. How? Sure thou wast not with us, when at first +We launched our vessels on the Troyward way? + +NEO. Hadst thou a share in that adventurous toil? + +PHI. And know'st thou not whom thou behold'st in me, +Young boy? + +NEO. How should I know him whom I ne'er +Set eye on? + +PHI. Hast not even heard my name, +Nor echoing rumour of my ruinous woe? + +NEO. Nay, I know nought of all thy questioning. + +PHI. How full of griefs am I, how Heaven-abhorred, +When of my piteous state no faintest sound +Hath reached my home, or any Grecian land! +But they, who pitilessly cast me forth, +Keep silence and are glad, while this my plague +Blooms ever, and is strengthened more and more. +Boy, great Achilles' offspring, in this form +Thou seest the man, of whom, methinks, erewhile +Thou hast been told, to whom the Hercúlean bow +Descended, Philoctetes, Poeas' son; +Whom the two generals and the Ithacan king +Cast out thus shamefully forlorn, afflicted +With the fierce malady and desperate wound +Made by the cruel basilisk's murderous tooth. +With this for company they left me, child! +Exposed upon this shore, deserted, lone. + From seaward Chrysa came they with their fleet +And touched at Lemnos. I had fallen to rest +From the long tossing, in a shadowy cave +On yonder cliff by the shore. Gladly they saw, +And left me, having set forth for my need, +Poor man, some scanty rags, and a thin store +Of provender. Such food be theirs, I pray! +Imagine, O my son, when they were gone, +What wakening, what arising, then was mine; +What weeping, what lamenting of my woe! +When I beheld the ships, wherewith I sailed, +Gone, one and all! and no man in the place, +None to bestead me, none to comfort me +In my sore sickness. And where'er I looked, +Nought but distress was present with me still. +No lack of that, for one thing!--Ah! my son, +Time passed, and there I found myself alone +Within my narrow lodging, forced to serve +Each pressing need. For body's sustenance +This bow supplied me with sufficient store, +Wounding the feathered doves, and when the shaft, +From the tight string, had struck, myself, ay me! +Dragging this foot, would crawl to my swift prey. +Then water must be fetched, and in sharp frost +Wood must be found and broken,--all by me. +Nor would fire come unbidden, but with flint +From flints striking dim sparks, I hammered forth +The struggling flame that keeps the life in me. +For houseroom with the single help of fire +Gives all I need, save healing for my sore. + Now learn, my son, the nature of this isle. +No mariner puts in here willingly. +For it hath neither moorage, nor sea-port, +For traffic or kind shelter or good cheer. +Not hitherward do prudent men make voyage. +Perchance one may have touched against his will. +Many strange things may happen in long time. +These, when they come, in words have pitied me, +And given me food, or raiment, in compassion. +But none is willing, when I speak thereof, +To take me safely home. Wherefore I pine +Now this tenth year, in famine and distress, +Feeding the hunger of my ravenous plague. + Such deeds, my son, the Atridae, and the might +Of sage Odysseus, have performed on me. +Wherefore may all the Olympian gods, one day, +Plague them with stern requital for my wrong! + +CH. Methinks my feeling for thee, Poeas' child, +Is like that of thy former visitants. + +NEO. I, too, a witness to confirm his words, +Know them for verities, since I have found +The Atridae and Odysseus evil men. + +PHI. Art thou, too, wroth with the all-pestilent sons +Of Atreus? Have they given thee cause to grieve? + +NEO. Would that my hand might ease the wrath I feel! +Then Sparta and Mycenae should be ware +That Scyros too breeds valiant sons for war. + +PHI. Brave youth! I love thee. Tell me the great cause +Why thou inveighest against them with such heat? + +NEO. O son of Poeas, hardly shall I tell +What outrage I endured when I had come; +Yet I will speak it. When the fate of death +O'ertook Achilles-- + +PHI. Out, alas! no more! +Hold, till thou first hast made me clearly know, +Is Peleus' offspring dead? + +NEO. Alas! he is, +Slain by no mortal, felled by Phoebus' shaft: +So men reported-- + +PHI. Well, right princely was he! +And princely is he who slew him. Shall I mourn +Him first, or wait till I have heard thy tale? + +NEO. Methinks thou hast thyself enough to mourn, +Without the burden of another's woe. + +PHI. Well spoken. Then renew thine own complaint, +And tell once more wherein they insulted thee. + +NEO. There came to fetch me, in a gallant ship, +Odysseus and the fosterer of my sire[2], +Saying, whether soothly, or in idle show, +That, since my father perished, it was known +None else but I should take Troy's citadel. +Such words from them, my friend, thou may'st believe, +Held me not long from making voyage with speed, +Chiefly through longing for my father's corse, +To see him yet unburied,--for I ne'er +Had seen him[3]. Then, besides, 'twas a fair cause, +If, by my going, I should vanquish Troy. +One day I had sailed, and on the second came +To sad Sigeum with wind-favoured speed, +When straightway all the host, surrounding me +As I set foot on shore, saluted me, +And swore the dead Achilles was in life, +Their eyes being witness, when they looked on me. +He lay there in his shroud: but I, unhappy, +Soon ending lamentation for the dead, +Went near to those Atridae, as to friends, +To obtain my father's armour and all else +That had been his. And then,--alas the while, +That men should be so hard!--they spake this word: +'Seed of Achilles, thou may'st freely take +All else thy father owned, but for those arms, +Another wields them now, Laërtes' son.' +Tears rushed into mine eyes, and in hot wrath +I straightway rose, and bitterly outspake: +'O miscreant! What? And have ye dared to give +Mine arms to some man else, unknown to me?' +Then said Odysseus, for he chanced to be near, +'Yea, child, and justly have they given me these. +I saved them and their master in the field.' +Then in fierce anger all at once I launched +All terms of execration at his head, +Bating no word, being maddened by the thought +That I should lose this heirloom,--and to him! +He, at this pass, though not of wrathful mood, +Stung by such utterance, made rejoinder thus: +'Thou wast not with us here, but wrongfully +Didst bide afar. And, since thou mak'st so bold, +I tell thee, never shalt thou, as thou sayest, +Sail with these arms to Scyros.'--Thus reviled, +With such an evil echo in mine ear, +I voyage homeward, robbed of mine own right +By that vile offset of an evil tree[4]. +Yet less I blame him than the men in power. +For every multitude, be it army or state, +Takes tone from those who rule it, and all taint +Of disobedience from bad counsel springs. +I have spoken. May the Atridae's enemy +Be dear to Heaven, as he is loved by me! + +CH. Mother of mightiest Zeus, 1 + Feeder of all that live, + Who from thy mountainous breast + Rivers of gold dost give! + To thee, O Earth, I cried that shameful day, + When insolence from Atreus' sons went forth + Full on our lord: when they bestowed away + His father's arms to crown Odysseus' worth; + Thou, whom bull-slaughtering lions yoked bear, + O mighty mother, hear! + +PHI. Your coming is commended by a grief +That makes you kindly welcome. For I feel +A chord that vibrates to your voice, and tells, +Thus have Odysseus and the Atridae wrought. +Full well I know, Odysseus' poisoned tongue +Shrinks from no mischief nor no guileful word +That leads to bad achievement in the end. +This moves not my main marvel, but if one +Saw this and bore it,--Aias of the shield. + +NEO. Ah, friend, he was no more. Had he but lived, +This robbery had ne'er been wrought on me. + +PHI. What? Is he too departed? + +NEO. He is dead. +The light no more beholds him. + +PHI. Oh! alas! +But Tydeus' offspring, and the rascal birth +Laërtes bought of Sisyphus, they live: +I know it. For their death were to be wished. + +NEO. Yea, be assured, they live and flourish high +Exalted in the host of Argive men. + +PHI. And Nestor, my old friend, good aged man, +Is he yet living? Oft he would prevent +Their evils, by the wisdom of his thought. + +NEO. He too is now in trouble, having lost +Antilochus, the comfort of his age. + +PHI. There, there! In one brief word thou hast revealed +The mournful case of twain, whom I would last +Have chosen to hear of as undone. Ah me! +Where must one look? when these are dead, and he, +Odysseus, lives,--and in a time like this, +That craves their presence, and his death for theirs. + +NEO. He wrestles cleverly; but, O my friend, +Even ablest wits are ofttimes snared at last. + +PHI. Tell me, I pray, what was become of him, +Patroclus, whom thy father loved so well? + +NEO. He, too, was gone. I'll teach thee in a word +One truth for all. War doth not willingly +Snatch off the wicked, but still takes the good. + +PHI. True! and to prove thy saying, I will inquire +The fate of a poor dastard, of mean worth, +But ever shrewd and nimble with his tongue. + +NEO. Whom but Odysseus canst thou mean by this? + +PHI. I meant not him. But there was one Thersites, +Who ne'er made conscience to stint speech, where all +Cried 'Silence!' Is he living, dost thou know? + +NEO. I saw him not, but knew he was alive. + +PHI. He must be: for no evil yet was crushed. +The Heavens will ever shield it. 'Tis their sport +To turn back all things rancorous and malign +From going down to the grave, and send instead +The good and true. Oh, how shall we commend +Such dealings, how defend them? When I praise +Things god-like, I find evil in the Gods. + +NEO. I, O thou child of a Trachinian sire, +Henceforth will take good care, from far away +To look on Troy and Atreus' children twain. +Yea, where the trickster lords it o'er the just, +And goodness languishes and rascals rule, +--Such courses I will nevermore endure. +But rock-bound Scyros henceforth shall suffice +To yield me full contentment in my home. +Now, to my vessel! And thou, Poeas' child, +Farewell, right heartily farewell! May Heaven +Grant thy desire, and rid thee of thy plague! +Let us be going, that when God shall give +Fair voyage, that moment we may launch away. + +PHI. My son, are ye now setting forth? + +NEO. Our time +Bids us go near and look to sail erelong. + +PHI. Now, by thy father, by thy mother,--nay, +By all thy love e'er cherished in thy home, +Suppliant I beg thee, leave me not thus lone, +Forlorn in all my misery which thou seest, +In all thou hast heard of here surrounding me! +Stow me with other freightage. Full of care, +I know, and burdensome the charge may prove. +Yet venture! Surely to the noble mind +All shame is hateful and all kindness blest. +And shame would be thy meed, didst thou fail here +But, doing this, thou shalt have glorious fame, +When I return alive to Oeta's vale. +Come, 'tis the labour not of one whole day. +So thou durst take me, fling me where thou wilt +O' the ship, in hold, prow, stern, or wheresoe'er +I least may trouble those on board with me. +Ah! by great Zeus, the suppliant's friend, comply, +My son, be softened! See, where I am fall'n +Thus on my knees before thee, though so weak, +Crippled and powerless. Ah! forsake me not +Thus far from human footstep. Take me, take me! +If only to thy home, or to the town +Of old Chalcodon[5] in Euboea.--From thence +I have not far to Oeta, and the ridge +Of Trachis, and Spercheius' lordly flood. +So thou shalt bless my father with my sight. +And yet long since I fear he may be gone. +For oft I sent him suppliant prayers by men +Who touched this isle, entreating him to fetch +And bear me safely home with his own crew. +But either he is dead, or else, methinks, +It well may be, my messengers made light +Of my concerns, and hastened onward home. +But now in thee I find both messenger +And convoy, thou wilt pity me and save. +For, well thou knowest, danger never sleeps, +And fear of dark reverse is always nigh. +Mortals, when free, should look where mischief lurks, +And in their happiest hour consider well +Their life, lest ruin unsuspected come. + +CH. Pity him, O my king! 2 + Many a crushing woe + He telleth, such as I pray + None of my friends may know. + And if, dear master, thou mislikest sore + Yon cruel-hearted lordly pair, I would, + Turning their plan of evil to his good, + On swift ship bear him to his native shore, + Meeting his heart's desire; and free thy path + From fear of heavenly wrath. + +NEO. Thou mak'st small scruple here; but be advised: +Lest, when this plague on board shall weary thee, +Thy voice should alter from this liberal tone. + +CH. No, truly! Fear not thou shalt ever have +Just cause to utter such reproach on me. + +NEO. Then sure 'twere shame, should I more backward prove +Than thou, to labour for the stranger's need. +Come, if thou wilt, let us make voyage, and he, +Let him set forth with speed. Our ship shall take him. +He shall not be refused. Only may Heaven +Lead safely hence and to our destined port! + +PHI. O morning full of brightness! Kindest friend, +Sweet mariners, how can I make you feel, +In act, how dearly from my heart I love you! +Ye have won my soul. Let us be gone, my son,-- +First having said farewell to this poor cave, +My homeless dwelling-place, that thou may'st know, +How barely I have lived, how firm my heart! +Methinks another could not have endured +The very sight of what I bore. But I +Through strong necessity have conquered pain. + +CH. Stay: let us understand. There come two men +A stranger, with a shipmate of thy crew. +When ye have heard them, ye may then go in. + +_Enter_ Messenger, _disguised as a merchantman_. + +MERCHANTMAN. Son of Achilles, my companion here, +Who with two more remained to guard thy ship, +Agreed to help me find thee where thou wert, +Since unexpectedly, through fortune's will, +I meet thee, mooring by the self-same shore. +For like a merchantman, with no great sail, +Making my course from Ilion to my home, +Grape-clustered Peparethos, when I heard +The mariners declare that one and all +Were of thy crew, I would not launch again, +Without a word, till we had told our news.-- +Methinks thou knowest nought of thine own case, +What new devices of the Argive chiefs +Surround thee; nor devices only now, +But active deeds, no longer unperformed. + +NEO. Well, stranger, for the kindness thou hast shown,-- +Else were I base,--my heart must thank thee still. +But tell me what thou meanest, that I may learn +What new-laid plot thou bring'st me from the camp. + +MER. Old Phoenix, Acamas and Demophon +Are gone in thy pursuit with ships and men. + +NEO. To bring me back with reasons or perforce? + +MER. I know not. What I heard, I am here to tell. + +NEO. How? And is this in act? Are they set forth +To please the Atridae, Phoenix and the rest? + +MER. The thing is not to do, but doing now. + +NEO. What kept Odysseus back, if this be so, +From going himself? Had he some cause for fear? + +MER. He and the son of Tydeus, when our ship +Hoist sail, were gone to fetch another man. + +NEO. For whom could he himself be sailing forth? + +MER. For some one,--but first tell me, whispering low +Whate'er thou speakest,--who is this I see? + +NEO. (_speaking aloud_). +This, sir, is Philoctetes the renowned. + +MER. (_aside to_ NEOPTOLEMUS). +Without more question, snatch thyself away +And sail forth from this land. + +PHI. What saith he, boy? +Through what dark traffic is the mariner +Betraying me with whispering in thine ear? + +NEO. I have not caught it, but whate'er he speaks +He must speak openly to us and thee. + +MER. Seed of Achilles, let me not offend +The army by my words! Full many a boon, +Being poor, I reap from them for service done. + +NEO. The Atridae are my foes; the man you see +Is my fast friend, because he hates them sore. +Then, if you come in kindness, you must hide +Nothing from him or me of all thou hast heard. + +MER. Look what thou doest, my son! + +NEO. I mark it well. + +MER. Thou shalt be answerable. + +NEO. Content: but speak. + +MER. Then hear me. These two men whom I have named, +Diomedes and Odysseus, are set forth +Engaged on oath to bring this man by force +If reasons fail. The Achaeans every one +Have heard this plainly from Odysseus' mouth. +He was the louder and more confident. + +NEO. Say, for what cause, after so long a time, +Can Atreus' sons have turned their thoughts on him, +Whom long they had cast forth? What passing touch +Of conscience moved them, or what stroke from Heaven, +Whose wrath requites all wicked deeds of men? + +MER. Methinks thou hast not heard what I will now +Unfold to thee. There was a princely seer, +A son of Priam, Helenus by name, +Whom he for whom no word is bad enough, +Crafty Odysseus, sallying forth alone +One night, had taken, and in bonds displayed +'Fore all the Achaeans, a right noble prey. +He, 'mid his other prophecies, foretold +No Grecian force should sack Troy's citadel, +Till with fair reasons they had brought this man +From Lemnos isle, his lonely dwelling-place. + When thus the prophet spake, Laërtes' son +Straight undertook to fetch this man, and show him +To all the camp:--he hoped, with fair consent: +But else, perforce.--And, if he failed in this, +Whoever would might smite him on the head. + My tale is told, dear youth. I counsel speed +To thee and to the friend for whom thou carest. + +PHI. Ah me, unhappy! has that rascal knave +Sworn to fetch me with reasons to their camp? +As likely might his reasons bring me back, +Like his begetter, from the house of death. + +MER. You talk of what I know not. I will go +Shipward. May God be with you for all good. [_Exit_ + +PHI. Is not this terrible, Laërtes' son +Should ever think to bring me with soft words +And show me from his deck to all their host? +No! Sooner will I listen to the tongue +Of the curs'd basilisk that thus hath maim'd me. + Ay, but he'll venture anything in word +Or deed. And now I know he will be here. +Come, O my son, let us be gone, while seas +And winds divide us from Odysseus' ship. +Let us depart. Sure timely haste brings rest +And quiet slumber when the toil is done. + +NEO. Shall we not sail when this south-western wind +Hath fallen, that now is adverse to our course? + +PHI. All winds are fair to him who flies from woe. + +NEO. Nay, but this head-wind hinders them no less. + +PHI. No head-wind hinders pirates on their way, +When violence and rapine lead them on. + +NEO. Well, then, let us be going, if you will; +When you have taken from within the cave +What most you need and value. + +PHI. Though my all +Be little, there is that I may not lose. + +NEO. What can there be that we have not on board? + +PHI. A leaf I have found, wherewith I still the rage +Of my sore plague, and lull it quite to rest. + +NEO. Well, bring it forth.--What? Is there something more? + +PHI. If any of these arrows here are fallen, +I would not leave them for a casual prey. + +NEO. How? Do I see thee with the marvellous bow? + +PHI. Here in my hand. The world hath only one. + +NEO. And may one touch and handle it, and gaze +With reverence, as on a thing from Heaven? + +PHI. Thou mayest, my son. This and whate'er of mine +May stead thee, 'tis thy privilege to enjoy. + +NEO. In very truth I long for it, but so, +That longing waits on leave. Am I permitted? + +PHI. Thou art, my son,--and well thou speakest,--thou art. +Thou, that hast given me light and life, the joy +Of seeing Mount Oeta and my father's home, +With all I love there, and his aged head,-- +Thou that hast raised me far above my foes +Who triumphed! Thou may'st take it in thine hand, +And,--when thou hast given it back to me,--may'st vaunt +Alone of mortals for thine excellence +To have held this in thy touch. I, too, at first, +Received it as a boon for kindness done. + +NEO. Well, go within. + +PHI. Nay, I must take thee too. +My sickness craves thee for its comforter. + [PHILOCTETES _and_ NEOPTOLEMUS _go into + the cave_ + +CHORUS. + In fable I have heard, I 1 + Though sight hath ne'er confirmed the word, + How he who attempted once the couch supreme, + To a whirling wheel by Zeus the all-ruler bound, + Tied head and heel, careering ever round, + Atones his impious unsubstantial dream. + Of no man else, through eye or ear, + Have I discerned a fate more full of fear + Than yonder sufferer's of the cureless wound: + Who did no violence, defrauded none:-- + A just man, had he dwelt among the just + Unworthily behold him thrust + Alone to hear the billows roar + That break around a rugged shore! +How could he live, whose life was thus consumed with moan? + + Where neighbour there was none: I 2 + No arm to stay him wandering lone, + Unevenly, with stumbling steps and sore; + No friend in need, no kind inhabitant, + To minister to his importunate want, + No heart whereto his pangs he might deplore. + None who, whene'er the gory flow + Was rushing hot, might healing herbs bestow, + Or cull from teeming Earth some genial plant + To allay the anguish of malignant pain + And soothe the sharpness of his poignant woe. + Like infant whom the nurse lets go, + With tottering movement here and there, + He crawled for comfort, whensoe'er +His soul-devouring plague relaxed its cruel strain. + + Not fed with foison of all-teeming Earth II 1 + Whence we sustain us, ever-toiling men, + But only now and then +With wingèd things, by his wing'd shafts brought low, + He stayed his hunger from his bow. + Poor soul, that never through ten years of dearth + Had pleasure from the fruitage of the vine, + But seeking to some standing pool, + Nor clear nor cool, +Foul water heaved to head for lack of heartening wine. + + But now, consorted with the hero's child, II 2 + He winneth greatness and a joyful change; + Over the water wild +Borne by a friendly bark beneath the range + Of Oeta, where Spercheius fills + Wide channels winding among lovely hills + Haunted of Melian nymphs, till he espies + The roof-tree of his father's hall, + And high o'er all +Shines the bronze shield of him, whose home is in the skies[6]. + [NEOPTOLEMUS _comes out of the cave, followed + by_ PHILOCTETES _in pain_ + +NEO. Prithee, come on! Why dost thou stand aghast, +Voiceless, and thus astonied in thine air? + +PHI. Oh! oh! + +NEO. What? + +PHI. Nothing. Come my son, fear nought. + +NEO. Is pain upon thee? Hath thy trouble come? + +PHI. No pain, no pain! 'Tis past; I am easy now. +Ye heavenly powers! + +NEO. Why dost thou groan aloud, +And cry to Heaven? + +PHI. To come and save. Kind Heaven! +Oh, oh! + +NEO. What is 't? Why silent? Wilt not speak? +I see thy misery. + +PHI. Oh! I am lost, my son! +I cannot hide it from you. Oh! it shoots, +It pierces. Oh unhappy! Oh! my woe! +I am lost, my son, I am devoured. Oh me! +Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Pain! pain! Oh pain! oh pain! +Child, if a sword be to thine hand, smite hard, +Shear off my foot! heed not my life! Quick, come! + +NEO. What hath so suddenly arisen, that thus +Thou mak'st ado and groanest o'er thyself? + +PHI. Thou knowest. + +NEO. What know I? + +PHI. O! thou knowest, my son! + +NEO. I know not. + +PHI. How? Not know? Ah me! Pain, pain! + +NEO. Thy plague is a sore burden, heavy and sore. + +PHI. Sore? 'Tis unutterable. Have pity on me! + +NEO. What shall I do? + +PHI. Do not in fear forsake me. +This wandering evil comes in force again, +Hungry as ere it fed. + +NEO. O hapless one! +Thrice hapless in thy manifold distress! +What wilt thou? Shall I raise thee on mine arm? + +PHI. Nay, but receiving from my hand the bow, +As late thou didst desire me, keep it safe +And guard it, till the fury of my pain +Pass over me and cease. For when 'tis spent, +Slumber will seize me, else it ne'er would end. +I must sleep undisturbed. But if meanwhile +They come,--by Heaven I charge thee, in no wise, +Willingly nor perforce, let them have this! +Else thou wilt be the slayer of us both; +Of me thy suppliant, and of thyself. + +NEO. Fear not my care. No hand shall hold these arms +But thine and mine. Give, and Heaven bless the deed! + +PHI. I give them; there, my son! But look to Heaven +And pray no envy smite thee, nor such bane +In having them, as fell on me and him +Who bore them formerly. + +NEO. O grant it, Gods! +And grant us fair and happy voyage, where'er +Our course is shaped and righteous Heaven shall guide. + +PHI. Ah! but I fear, my son, thy prayer is vain: +For welling yet again from depths within, +This gory ooze is dripping. It will come! +I know it will. O, foot, torn helpless thing, +What wilt thou do to me? Ah! ah! It comes, +It is at hand. 'Tis here! Woe's me, undone! +I have shown you all. Stay near me. Go not far: +Ah! ah! +O island king, I would this agony +Might cleave thy bosom through and through! Woe, woe! +Woe! Ah! ye two commanders of the host, +Agamemnon, Menelaüs, O that ye, +Another ten years' durance in my room +Might nurse this malady! O Death, Death, Death! +I call thee daily--wilt thou never come? +Will it not be?--My son, thou noble boy, +If thou art noble, take and burn me there +Aloft in yon all-worshipped Lemnian fire! +Yea, when the bow thou keep'st was my reward, +I did like service for the child of Heaven. +How now, my son? +What say'st? Art silent? Where--where art thou, boy? + +NEO. My heart is full, and groaning o'er thy woes. + +PHI. Nay, yet have comfort. This affliction oft +Goes no less swiftly than it came. I pray thee, +Stand fast and leave me not alone! + +NEO. Fear nought. +We will not stir. + +PHI. Wilt thou remain? + +NEO. Be sure of it. + +PHI. I'll not degrade thee with an oath, my son. + +NEO. Rest satisfied. I may not go without thee. + +PHI. Thy hand, to pledge me that! + +NEO. There, I will stay. + +PHI. Now, now, aloft! + +NEO. Where mean'st thou? + +PHI. Yonder aloft! + +NEO. Whither? Thou rav'st. Why starest thou at the sky? + +PHI. Now, let me go. + +NEO. Where? + +PHI. Let me go, I say! + +NEO. I will not. + +PHI. You will kill me. Let me go! + +NEO. Well, thou know'st best I hold thee not. + +PHI. O Earth, +I die. receive me to thy breast! This pain +Subdues me utterly, I cannot stand. + +NEO. Methinks he will be fast in slumber soon +That head sinks backward, and a clammy sweat +Bathes all his limbs, while from his foot hath burst +A vein, dark bleeding. Let us leave him, friends, +In quietness, till he hath fallen to sleep. + +CHORUS + Lord of the happiest life, I + Sleep, thou that know'st not strife, + That know'st not grief, + Still wafting sure relief, + Come, saviour now! + Thy healing balm is spread + Over this pain worn head, +Quench not the beam that gives calm to his brow. + + Look, O my lord, to thy path, + Either to go or to stay + How is my thought to proceed? + What is our cause for delay? + Look! Opportunity's power, + Fitting the task to the hour, + Giveth the race to the swift. + +NEO. He hears not. But I see that to have ta'en +His bow without him were a bootless gain +He must sail with us. So the god hath said +Heaven hath decreed this garland for his head: +And to have failed with falsehood were a meed +Of shameful soilure for a shameless deed. + +CH. God shall determine the end-- II + But for thine answer, friend, + Waft soft words low! + All sick men's sleep, we know, + Hath open eye; + Their quickly ruffling mind + Quivers in lightest wind, +Sleepless in slumber new danger to spy. + + Think, O my lord, of thy path, + Secretly look forth afar, + What wilt thou do for thy need? + How with the wise wilt thou care? + If toward the nameless thy heart + Chooseth this merciful part, + Huge are the dangers that drift. + +The wind is fair, my son, the wind is fair, +The man is dark and helpless, stretched in night. +(O kind, warm sleep that calmest human care!) +Powerless of hand and foot and ear and sight, +Blind, as one lying in the house of death. +(Think well if here thou utterest timely breath.) +This, O my son, is all my thought can find, +Best are the toils that without frightening bind. + +NEO. Hush! One word more were madness. He revives. +His eye hath motion. He uplifts his head. + +PHI. Fair daylight following sleep, and ye, dear friends, +Faithful beyond all hope in tending me! +I never could have dreamed that thou, dear youth, +Couldst thus have borne my sufferings and stood near +So full of pity to relieve my pain. +Not so the worthy generals of the host;-- +This princely patience was not theirs to show. +Only thy noble nature, nobly sprung, +Made light of all the trouble, though oppressed +With fetid odours and unceasing cries. +And now, since this my plague would seem to yield +Some pause and brief forgetfulness of pain, +With thine own hand, my son, upraise me here, +And set me on my feet, that, when my strength +After exhaustion shall return again, +We may move shoreward and launch forth with speed. + +NEO. I feel unhoped-for gladness when I see +Thy painless gaze, and hear thy living breath, +For thine appearance and surroundings both +Were deathlike. But arise! Or, if thou wilt, +These men shall raise thee. For they will not shrink +From toil which thou and I at once enjoin. + +PHI. Right, right, my son! But lift me thine own self, +As I am sure thou meanest. Let these be, +Lest they be burdened with the noisome smell +Before the time. Enough for them to bear +The trouble on board. + +NEO. I will; stand up, endure! + +PHI. Fear not. Old habit will enable me. + +NEO. O me! +What shall I do? Now 'tis my turn to exclaim! + +PHI. What canst thou mean? What change is here, my son? + +NEO. I know not how to shift the troublous word. +'Tis hopeless. + +PHI. What is hopeless? Speak not so, +Dear child! + +NEO. But so my wretched lot hath fallen. + +PHI. Ah! Can it be, the offence of my disease +Hath moved thee not to take me now on board? + +NEO. All is offence to one who hath forced himself +From the true bent to an unbecoming deed. + +PHI. Nought misbecoming to thyself or sire +Doest thou or speak'st, befriending a good man. + +NEO. My baseness will appear. That wrings my soul. + +PHI. Not in thy deeds. But for thy words, I fear me! + +NEO. O Heaven! Must double vileness then be mine +Both shameful silence and most shameful speech? + +PHI. Or my discernment is at fault, or thou +Mean'st to betray me and make voyage without me. + +NEO. Nay, not without thee, there is my distress! +Lest I convey thee to thy bitter grief. + +PHI. How? How, dear youth? I do not understand. + +NEO. Here I unveil it. Thou art to sail to Troy, +To join the chieftains and the Achaean host. + +PHI. What do I hear? Ah! + +NEO. Grieve not till you learn. + +PHI. Learn what? What wilt thou make of me? What mean'st thou? + +NEO. First to release thee from this plague, and then +With thee to go and take the realm of Troy. + +PHI. And is this thine intent? + +NEO. 'Tis so ordained +Unchangeably. Be not dismayed! 'Tis so. + +PHI. Me miserable! I am betrayed, undone! +What guile is here? My bow! give back my bow! + +NEO. I may not. Interest, and duty too, +Force me to obey commandment. + +PHI. O thou fire, +Thou terror of the world! Dark instrument +Of ever-hateful guile!--What hast thou done? +How thou hast cheated me! Art not ashamed +To look on him that sued to thee for shelter? +O heart of stone, thou hast stolen my life away +With yonder bow!--Ah, yet I beg of thee, +Give it me back, my son, I entreat thee, give! +By all thy father worshipped, rob me not +Of life!--Ah me! Now he will speak no more, +But turns away, obdúrate to retain it. +O ye, my comrades in this wilderness, +Rude creatures of the rocks, O promontories, +Creeks, precipices of the hills, to you +And your familiar presence I complain +Of this foul trespass of Achilles' son. +Sworn to convey me home, to Troy he bears me. +And under pledge of his right hand hath ta'en +And holds from me perforce my wondrous bow, +The sacred gift of Zeus-born Heracles, +Thinking to wave it midst the Achaean host +Triumphantly for his. In conquering me +He vaunts as of some valorous feat, and knows not +He is spoiling a mere corse, an empty dream, +The shadow of a vapour. In my strength +He ne'er had vanquished me. Even as I am, +He could not, but by guile. Now, all forlorn, +I am abused, deceived. What must I do? +Nay, give it me. Nay, yet be thy true self! +Thou art silent. I am lost. O misery! +Rude face of rock, back I return to thee +And thy twin gateway, robbed of arms and food, +To wither in thy cave companionless:-- +No more with these mine arrows to destroy +Or flying bird or mountain-roving beast. +But, all unhappy! I myself must be +The feast of those on whom I fed, the chase +Of that I hunted, and shall dearly pay +In bloody quittance for their death, through one +Who seemed all ignorant of sinful guile. +Perish,--not till I am certain if thy heart +Will change once more,--if not, my curse on thee! + +CH. What shall we do, my lord? We wait thy word +Or to sail now, or yield to his desire. + +NEO. My heart is pressed with a strange pity for him, +Not now beginning, but long since begun. + +PHI. Ay, pity me, my son! by all above, +Make not thy name a scorn by wronging me! + +NEO. O! I am troubled sore. What must I do? +Would I had never left mine island home! + +PHI. Thou art not base, but seemest to have learnt +Some baseness from base men. Now, as 'tis meet, +Be better guided--leave me mine arms, and go. + +NEO. (_to Chorus_). +What shall we do? + +_Enter_ ODYSSEUS. + +ODYSSEUS. What art thou doing, knave? +Give me that bow, and haste thee back again. + +PHI. Alas! What do I hear? Odysseus' voice? + +OD. Be sure of that, Odysseus, whom thou seest. + +PHI. Oh, I am bought and sold, undone! 'Twas he +That kidnapped me, and robbed me of my bow. + +OD. Yea. I deny it not. Be sure, 'twas I. + +PHI. Give back, my son, the bow; release it! + +OD. That, +Though he desire it, he shall never do. +Thou too shalt march along, or these shall force thee. + +PHI. They force me! O thou boldest of bad men! +They force me? + +OD. If thou com'st not willingly. + +PHI. O Lemnian earth and thou almighty flame, +Hephaestos' workmanship, shall this be borne, +That he by force must drag me from your care? + +OD. 'Tis Zeus, I tell thee, monarch of this isle, +Who thus hath willed. I am his minister. + +PHI. Wretch, what vile words thy wit hath power to say! +The gods are liars when invoked by thee. + +OD. Nay, 'tis their truth compels thee to this voyage. + +PHI. I will not have it so. + +OD. I will. Thou shalt. + +PHI. Woe for my wretchedness! My father, then, +Begat no freeman, but a slave in me. + +OD. Nay, but the peer of noblest men, with whom +Thou art to take and ravage Troy with might. + +PHI. Never,--though I must suffer direst woe,-- +While this steep Lemnian ground is mine to tread! + +OD. What now is thine intent? + +PHI. Down from the crag +This head shall plunge and stain the crag beneath. + +OD. (_to the Attendants_.) +Ay, seize and bind him. Baffle him in this. + +PHI. Poor hands, for lack of your beloved string, +Caught by this craven! O corrupted soul! +How thou hast undermined me, having taken +To screen thy quest this youth to me unknown, +Far worthier of my friendship than of thine, +Who knew no better than to obey command. +Even now 'tis manifest he burns within +With pain for his own error and my wrong. +But, though unwilling and mapt for ill, +Thy crafty, mean, and cranny spying soul +Too well hath lessoned him in sinful lore. +Now thou hast bound me, O thou wretch, and thinkest +To take me from this coast, where thou didst cast me +Outlawed and desolate, a corpse 'mongst men. + Oh! +I curse thee now, as ofttimes in the past: +But since Heaven yields me nought but bitterness, +Thou livest and art blithe, while 'tis my pain +To live on in my misery, laughed to scorn +By thee and Atreus' sons, those generals twain +Whom thou art serving in this chase. But thou +With strong compulsion and deceit was driven +Troyward, whilst I, poor victim, of free will +Took my seven ships and sailed there, yet was thrown +Far from all honour,--as thou sayest, by them, +But, as they turn the tale, by thee.--And now +Why fetch me hence and take me? To what end? +I am nothing, dead to you this many a year. +How, O thou Heaven-abhorred! am I not now +Lame and of evil smell? how shall ye vaunt +Before the gods drink-offering or the fat +Of victims, if I sail among your crew? +For this, as ye professed, was the chief cause +Why ye disowned me. Perish!--So ye shall, +For the wrong done me, if the Heavens be just. +And that they are, I know. Else had ye ne'er +Sailed on this errand for an outcast wretch, +Had they not pricked your heart with thoughts of me. +Oh, if ye pity me, chastising powers, +And thou, the Genius of my land, revenge, +Revenge this crime on all their heads at once! +My life is pitiable; but if I saw +Their ruin, I would think me well and strong. + +CH. How full of bitterness is his resolve, +Wrathfully spoken with unbending will! + +OD. I might speak long in answer, did the time +Give scope, but now one thing is mine to say. +I am known to vary with the varying need; +And when 'tis tried, who can be just and good, +My peer will not be found for piety. +But though on all occasions covetous +Of victory, this once I yield to thee, +And willingly. Unhand him there. Let go! +Leave him to stay. What further use of thee, +When we have ta'en these arms? Have we not Teucer, +Skilled in this mystery? Yea, I may boast +Myself thine equal both in strength and aim +To wield them. Fare thee well, then! Thou art free +To roam thy barren isle. We need thee not. +Let us be going! And perchance thy gift +May bring thy destined glory to my brow. + +PHI. What shall I do? Alas, shalt thou be seen +Graced with mine arms amongst Achaean men? + +OD. No more! I am going. + +PHI. O Achilles' child! +Wilt thou, too, vanish? Must I lose thy voice? + +OD. Come on, and look not, noble though thou be, +Lest thou undo our fortune. + +PHI. Mariners, +Must ye, too, leave me thus disconsolate? +Will ye not pity me? + +CH. Our captain's here. +Whate'er he saith to thee, that we too speak. + +NEO. My chief will call me weakling, soft of heart; +But go not yet, since our friend bids you stay. +Till we have prayed, and all be ready on board. +Meanwhile, perchance, he may conceive some thought +That favours our design. We two will start; +And ye, be swift to speed forth at our call. [_Exit_ + +MONODY. + +PHI. O cavern of the hollow rock, I 1 +Frosty and stifling in the seasons' change! +How I seem fated never more to range +From thy sad covert, that hath felt the shock +Of pain on pain, steeped with my wretchedness. +Now thou wilt be my comforter in death! +Grief haunted harbour, choked with my distress! +Tell me, what hope is mine of daily food, +Who will be careful for my good? +I fail. Ye cowering creatures of the sky, + Oh, as ye fly, +Snatch me, borne upward on the blast's sharp breath! + +CH. 1. Thou child of misery! + No mightier power hath this decreed, + But thine own will and deed + Hath bound thee thus in grief, +Since, when kind Heaven had sent relief +And shown the path of wisdom firm and sure, +Thou still hast chosen this evil to endure. + +PHI. O hapless life, sore bruised with pain! I 2 +No more with living mortal may I dwell, +But ever pining in this desert cell +With lonely grief, all famished must remain +And perish; for what food is mine to share, +When this strong arm no longer wields my bow, +Whose fleet shafts flew to smite the birds of air +I was o'erthrown by words, words dark and blind, +Low-creeping from a traitorous mind! +O might I see him, whose unrighteous thought + This ruin wrought, +Plagued for no less a period with like woe! + +CH. 2. Not by our craft thou art caught, +But Destiny divine hath wrought + The net that holds thee bound. + Aim not at us the sound +Of thy dread curse with dire disaster fraught. +On others let that light! 'Tis our true care +Thou should'st not scorn our love in thy despair. + +PHI. Now, seated by the shore II 1 + Of heaving ocean hoar, + He mocks me, waving high + The sole support of my precarious being, + The bow which none e'er held but I. +O treasure of my heart, torn from this hand, +That loved thy touch,--if thou canst understand, +How sad must be thy look in seeing +Thy master destined now no more, +Like Heracles of yore, +To wield thee with an archer's might! +But in the grasp of an all-scheming wight, +O bitter change! thou art plied; +And swaying ever by his side, +Shalt view his life of dark malignity, +Teeming with guileful shames, like those he wrought on me. + +CH. 3. Nobly to speak for the right + Is manly and strong; + But not with an envious blight + To envenom the tongue; + He to serve all his friends of the fleet, + One obeying a many-voiced word, + Through the minist'ring craft of our lord + Hath but done what was meet. + +PHI. Come, legions of the wild, II 2 + Of aspect fierce or mild, + Fowl from the fields of air, + And beasts that roam with bright untroubled gaze, + No longer bounding from my lair + Fly mine approach! Now freely without fear + Ye may surround my covert and come near, + Treading the savage rock-strewn ways. + The might I had is no more mine, + Stolen with those arms divine. + This fort hath no man to defend. + Come satisfy your vengeful jaws, and rend + These quivering tainted limbs! + Already hovering death bedims + My fainting sense. Who thus can live on air, + Tasting no gift of earth that breathing mortals share? + +CH. 4. Ah! do not shrink from thy friend, + If love thou reverest, + But know 'tis for thee to forfend + The fate which thou fearest. + The lot thou hast here to deplore, + Is sad evermore to maintain, + And hardship in sickness is sore, + But sorest in pain. + +PHI. Kindest of all that e'er before III +Have trod this shore, +Again thou mind'st me of mine ancient woe! +Why wilt thou ruin me? What wouldst thou do? + +CH. 5. How mean'st thou? + +PHI. If to Troy, of me abhorred +Thou e'er hast hoped to lead me with thy lord. + +CH. 6. So I judge best. + +PHI. Begone at once, begone! + +CH. 7. Sweet is that word, and swiftly shall be done! +Let us be gone, each to his place on board. + [The Chorus _make as if they were going_ + +PHI. Nay, by dear Zeus, to whom all suppliants moan +Leave me not yet! + +CH. 8. Keep measure in thy word. + +PHI. Stay, by Heaven, stay! + +CH. 9. What wilt thou say? + +PHI. O misery! O cruel power +That rul'st this hour! +I am destroyed. Ah me! +O poor torn limb, what shall I do with thee +Through all my days to be? +Ah, strangers, come, return, return! + +CH. 10. What new command are we to learn +Crossing thy former mind? + +PHI. Ah! yet be kind. +Reprove not him, whose tongue, with grief distraught, +Obeys not, in dark storms, the helm of thought! + +CH. 11. Come, poor friend, the way we call. + +PHI. Never, learn it once for all! +Not though he, whom Heaven obeys, +Blast me with fierce lightning's blaze! +Perish Troy, and all your host, +That have chosen, to their cost, +To despise and cast me forth, +Since my wound obscured my worth! +Ah, but, strangers, if your sense +Hath o'er-mastered this offence, +Yield but one thing to my prayer! + +CH. 12. What wouldst thou have? + +PHI. Some weapon bare, +Axe or sword or sharpened dart, +Bring it to content my heart. + +CH. 13. What is thy new intent? + +PHI. To sever point by point +This body, joint from joint. +On bloody death my mind is bent. + +CH. 14. Wherefore? + +PHI. To see my father's face. + +CH. 15. Where upon earth? + +PHI. He hath no place +Where sun doth shine, but in the halls of night. +O native country, land of my delight, +Would I were blest one moment with thy sight! +Why did I leave thy sacred dew +And loose my vessels from thy shore, +To join the hateful Danaän crew +And lend them succour? Oh, I am no more! + +LEADER OF CH. +Long since thou hadst seen me nearing yonder ship, +Had I not spied Odysseus and the son +Of great Achilles hastening to our side. + +OD. Wilt thou not tell me why thou art hurrying +This backward journey with reverted speed? + +NEO. To undo what I have wrongly done to-day. + +OD. Thy words appal me. What is wrongly done? + +NEO. When in obeying thee and all the host-- + +OD. Thou didst what deed that misbecame thy life? + +NEO. I conquered with base stratagem and fraud-- + +OD. Whom? What new plan is rising in thy mind? + +NEO. Not new. But to the child of Poeas here-- + +OD. What wilt thou do? I quake with strange alarm. + +NEO. From whom I took these weapons, back again---- + +OD. O Heaven! thou wilt not give them! Mean'st thou this? + +NEO. Yea, for I have them through base sinful means. + +OD. I pray thee, speak'st thou thus to anger me? + +NEO. If the truth anger thee, the truth is said. + +OD. Achilles' son! What word is fallen from thee? + +NEO. Must the same syllables be thrice thrown forth? + +OD. Once was too much. Would they had ne'er been said! + +NEO. Enough. Thou hast heard my purpose clearly told. + +OD. I know what power shall thwart thee in the deed. + +NEO. Whose will shall hinder me? + +OD. The Achaean host +And I among them. + +NEO. Thou'rt sharp-witted, sure! +But little wit or wisdom show'st thou here. + +OD. Neither thy words nor thy design is wise. + +NEO. But if 'tis righteous, that is better far. + +OD. How righteous, to release what thou hast ta'en +By my device? + +NEO. I sinned a shameful sin, +And I will do mine utmost to retrieve it. + +OD. How? Fear'st thou not the Achaeans in this act? + +NEO. In doing right I fear not them nor thee. + +OD. I call thy power in question. + +NEO. Then I'll fight, +Not with Troy's legions, but with thee. + +OD. Come on! +Let fortune arbitrate. + +NEO. Thou seest my hand +Feeling the hilt. + +OD. And me thou soon shalt see +Doing the like and dallying not!--And yet +I will not touch thee, but will go and tell +The army, that shall wreak this on thy head. [_Exit_ + +NEO. Thou show'st discretion: which if thou preserve, +Thou may'st maintain a path exempt from pain. +Ho! son of Poeas, Philoctetes, come +And leave thy habitation in the rock. + +PHI. What noise again is troubling my poor cave? +Why do ye summon me? What crave ye, sirs? +Ha! 'tis some knavery. Are ye come to add +Some monster evil to my mountainous woe? + +NEO. Fear not, but hearken to what now I speak. + +PHI. I needs must fear thee, whose fair words erewhile +Brought me to bitter fortune. + +NEO. May not men +Repent and change? + +PHI. Such wast thou in thy talk, +When thou didst rob me of my bow,--so bright +Without, so black within. + +NEO. Ah, but not now, +Assure thee! Only let me hear thy will, +Is 't constant to remain here and endure, +Or to make voyage with us? + +PHI. Stop, speak no more! +Idle and vain will all thine utterance be. + +NEO. Thou art so resolved? + +PHI. More firmly than I say. + +NEO. I would I might have brought thee to my mind, +But since my words are out of tune, I have done. + +PHI. Thou wert best. No word of thine can touch my soul +Or win me to thy love, who by deceit +Hast reft my life away. And then thou com'st +To school me,--of noblest father, basest son! +Perish, the Atridae first of all, and then +Laërtes' child, and thou! + +NEO. Curse me no more, +But take this hallowed weapon from my hand. + +PHI. What words are these? Am I again deceived? + +NEO. No, by the holiest name of Zeus on high! + +PHI. O voice of gladness, if thy speech be true! + +NEO. The deed shall prove it. Only reach thy hand, +And be again sole master of thy bow. [ODYSSEUS _appears_ + +OD. But I make protest, in the sight of Heaven, +For Atreus' sons, and all the Achaean host. + +PHI. Dear son, whose voice disturbs us? Do I hear +Odysseus? + +OD. Ay, and thou behold'st him nigh, +And he shall force thee to the Trojan plain, +Howe'er Achilles' offspring make or mar. + +PHI. This shaft shall bear thee sorrow for that boast. + +NEO. Let it not fly, by Heaven! + +PHI. Dear child, let go +Mine arm! + +NEO. I will not. [_Exit_ ODYSSEUS + +PHI. Ah! Why hast thou robbed +My bow of bringing down mine enemy? + +NEO. This were ignoble both for thee and me. + +PHI. One thing is manifest, the first o' the host +Lying forerunners of the Achaean band, +Are brave with words, but cowards with the steel. + +NEO. Well, now the bow is thine. Thou hast no cause +For blame or anger any more 'gainst me. + +PHI. None. Thou hast proved thy birthright, dearest boy. +Not from the loins of Sisyphus thou earnest, +But from Achilles, who in life was held +Noblest of men alive, and now o' the dead. + +NEO. It gladdens me that thou shouldst speak in praise +Both of my sire and me. But hear me tell +The boon for which I sue thee.--Mortal men +Must bear such evils as high Heaven ordains; +But those afflicted by self-chosen ills, +Like thine to-day, receive not from just men +Or kind indulgence or compassionate thought. +And thou art restive grown, and wilt not hearken, +But though one counsel thee with kind'st intent, +Wilt take him for a dark malignant foe. +Yet, calling Zeus to witness for my soul, +Once more I will speak. Know this, and mark it well: +Thou bear'st this sickness by a heavenly doom, +Through coming near to Chrysa's sentinel, +The lurking snake, that guards the sky-roofed fold[7]. +And from this plague thou ne'er shall find reprieve +While the same Sun god rears him from the east +And droops to west again, till thou be come +Of thine own willing mind to Troia's plain, +Where our physicians, sons of Phoebus' child[8], +Shall soothe thee from thy sore, and thou with me +And with this bow shalt take Troy's citadel. +How do I know this? I will tell thee straight +We have a Trojan captive, Helenus, +Both prince and prophet, who hath clearly told +This must be so, yea, and ere harvest time +This year, great Troy must fall, else if his words +Be falsified, who will may slay the seer. +Now, since thou know'st of this, yield thy consent; +For glorious is the gain, being singled forth +From all the Greeks as noblest, first to come +To healing hands, and then to win renown +Unrivalled, vanquishing all tearful Troy. + +PHI. Oh how I hate my life! Why must it keep +This breathing form from sinking to the shades? +How can I prove a rebel to his mind +Who thus exhorts me with affectionate heart? +And yet, oh misery! must I give way? +Then how could I endure the light of heaven? +With whom could I exchange a word? Ay me! +Eyes that have seen each act of my sad life, +How could ye bear it, to behold the sons +Of Atreus, my destroyers, comrades now +And friends! Laërtes' wicked son, my friend! +And less I feel the grief of former wrong +Than shudder with expectance of fresh harm +They yet may work on me. For when the mind +Hath once been mother of an evil brood, +It nurses nought but evils. Yea, at thee +I marvel. Thou should'st ne'er return to Troy, +Nor suffer me to go, when thou remember'st +What insult they have done thee, ravishing +Thy father's rights from thee. And wilt thou then +Sail to befriend them, pressing me in aid? +Nay, do not, son; but, even as thou hast sworn, +Convey me home, and thou, in Scyros dwelling, +Leave to their evil doom those evil men. +So thou shalt win a twofold gratitude +From me and from my father, and not seem, +Helping vile men, to be as vile as they. + +NEO. 'Tis fairly spoken. Yet I would that thou +Relying on my word and on Heaven's aid, +Would'st voyage forth from Lemnos with thy friend. + +PHI. Mean'st thou to Troy, and to the hateful sons +Of Atreus, me, with this distressful limb? + +NEO. Nay, but to those that will relieve the pain +Of thy torn foot and heal thee of thy plague. + +PHI. Thy words are horrible. What mean'st thou, boy? + +NEO. The act I deem the noblest for us both. + +PHI. Wilt thou speak so? Where is thy fear of Heaven? + +NEO. Why should I fear, when I see certain gain? + +PHI. Gain for the sons of Atreus, or for me? + +NEO. Methinks a friend should give thee friendly counsel. + +PHI. Friendly, to hand me over to my foes? + +NEO. Ah, be not hardened in thy misery! + +PHI. I know thou wilt ruin me by what thou speakest. + +NEO. Not I. The case is dark to thee, I see. + +PHI. I know the Atreidae cast me on this rock. + +NEO. But how, if they should save thee afterward? + +PHI. They ne'er shall make me see Troy with my will. + +NEO. Hard is my fortune, then, if by no sleight +Of reasoning I can draw thee to my mind. +For me, 'twere easiest to end speech, that thou +Might'st live on as thou livest in hopeless pain. + +PHI. Then leave me to my fate!--But thou hast touched +My right hand with thine own, and given consent +To bear me to my home. Do this, dear son! +And do not linger to take thought of Troy. +Enough that name hath echoed in my groans. + +NEO. If thou wilt, let us be going. + +PHI. Nobly hast thou said the word. + +NEO. Lean thy steps on mine. + +PHI. As firmly as my foot will strength afford. + +NEO. Ah! but how shall I escape Achaean anger? + +PHI. Do not care! + +NEO. Ah! but should they spoil my country! + +PHI. I to shield thee will be there. + +NEO. How to shield me, how to aid me? + +PHI. With the shafts of Heracles +I will scare them. + +NEO. Give thy blessing to this isle, and come in peace. + +HERACLES _appears from above._ + +HERACLES. First, son of Poeas, wait till thou hast heard +The voice of Heracles, and weighed his word. +Him thou beholdest from the Heavenly seat +Come down, for thee leaving the blest retreat, +To tell thee all high Zeus intends, and stay +Thy purpose in the journey of to-day. + Then hear me, first how after my long toils +By strange adventure I have found and won +Immortal glory, which thine eyes perceive; +And the like lot, I tell thee, shall be thine, +After these pains to rise to glorious fame. +Sailing with this thy comrade to Troy-town, +First thou shalt heal thee from thy grievous sore, +And then, being singled forth from all the host +As noblest, thou shalt conquer with that bow +Paris, prime author of these years of harm, +And capture Troy, and bear back to thy hall +The choicest guerdon, for thy valour's meed, +To Oeta's vale and thine own father's home. +But every prize thou tak'st be sure thou bear +Unto my pyre, in memory of my bow. + This word, Achilles' offspring, is for thee +No less. For, as thou could'st not without him, +So, without thee, he cannot conquer Troy. +Then, like twin lions hunting the same hill, +Guard thou him, and he thee! and I will send +Asclepius Troyward to relieve thy pain. +For Ilion now a second time must fall +Before the Herculean bow. But, take good heed, +Midst all your spoil to hold the gods in awe. +For our great Father counteth piety +Far above all. This follows men in death, +And fails them not when they resign their breath. + +PHI. Thou whom I have longed to see, + Thy dear voice is law to me. + +NEO. I obey with gladdened heart. + +HER. Lose no time: at once depart! + Bright occasion and fair wind + Urge your vessel from behind. + +PHI. Come, let me bless the region ere I go. + Poor house, sad comrade of my watch, farewell! + Ye nymphs of meadows where soft waters flow + Thou ocean headland, pealing thy deep knell, + Where oft within my cavern as I lay + My hair was moist with dashing south-wind's spray, + And ofttimes came from Hermes' foreland high + Sad replication of my storm-vext cry; + Ye fountains and thou Lycian water sweet,-- + I never thought to leave you, yet my feet + Are turning from your paths,--we part for aye. + Farewell! and waft me kindly on my way, + O Lemnian earth enclosed by circling seas, + To sail, where mighty Fate my course decrees, + And friendly voices point me, and the will + Of that heroic power, who doth this act fulfil. + +CH. Come now all in one strong band; + Then, ere loosing from the land, + Pray we to the nymphs of sea + Kind protectresses to be, + Till we touch the Trojan strand. + + * * * * * + + + + + OEDIPUS AT COLONOS + + + THE PERSONS + +OEDIPUS, _old and blind._ +ANTIGONE, _his daughter, a young girl._ +ISMENE, _his daughter, a young girl._ +CHORUS _of Village Guardians._ +_An Athenian._ +THESEUS, _King of Athens._ +CREON, _Envoy from Thebes._ +POLYNICES, _the elder son of Oedipus._ +_Messenger._ + + +SCENE. Colonos. + + + + +Oedipus had remained at Thebes for some time after his fall. But he +was afterwards banished by the command of Creon, with the consent of +his own sons. Their intention at first was to lay no claim to the +throne. But by-and-by ambition prevailed with Eteocles, the younger- +born, and he persuaded Creon and the citizens to banish his elder +brother. Polynices took refuge at Argos, where he married the daughter +of Adrastus, and levied an army of auxiliaries to support his +pretensions to the throne of Thebes. Before going into exile Oedipus +had cursed his sons. + +Antigone after a while fled forth to join her father and support him +in his wanderings. Ismenè also once brought him secret intelligence. + +Years have now elapsed, and the Delphian oracle proclaims that if +Oedipus dies in a foreign land the enemies of Thebes shall overcome +her. + +In ignorance of this fact, Oedipus, now aged as well as blind, and led +by his daughter Antigone, appears before the grove of the Eumenides, +at Colonos, in the neighbourhood of Athens. He has felt an inward +intimation, which is strengthened by some words of the oracle received +by him long since at Delphi, that his involuntary crimes have been +atoned for, and that the Avenging Deities will now receive him kindly +and make his cause their own. + +After some natural hesitation on the part of the village-councillors +of Colonos, Oedipus is received with princely magnanimity by Theseus, +who takes him under the protection of Athens, and defends him against +the machinations of Creon. + +Thus the blessing of the Gods, which Oedipus carried with him, is +secured to Athens, and denied to Thebes. The craft of Creon and the +prayers of Polynices alike prove unavailing. Then the man of many +sorrows, whose essential nobleness has survived them all, passes away +mysteriously from the sight of men. + +The scene is laid at Colonos, a suburb of Athens much frequented by +the upper classes, especially the Knights (see Thuc. viii. 67); and +before the sacred grove of the Eumenides, or Gentle Goddesses, a +euphemistic title for the Erinyes, or Goddesses of Vengeance. + + + + + OEDIPUS AT COLONOS + + +OEDIPUS. ANTIGONE. + +OEDIPUS. Antigone, child of the old blind sire, +What land is here, what people? Who to-day +Shall dole to Oedipus, the wandering exile, +Their meagre gifts? Little I ask, and less +Receive with full contentment; for my woes, +And the long years ripening the noble mind, +Have schooled me to endure.--But, O my child, +If thou espiest where we may sit, though near +Some holy precinct, stay me and set me there, +Till we may learn where we are come. 'Tis ours +To hear the will of strangers and to obey. + +ANTIGONE. Woe-wearied father, yonder city's wall +That shields her, looks far distant; but this ground +Is surely sacred, thickly planted over +With olive, bay and vine, within whose bowers +Thick-fluttering song-birds make sweet melody. +Here then repose thee on this unhewn stone. +Thou hast travelled far to-day for one so old. + +OED. Seat me, my child, and be the blind man's guard. + +ANT. Long time hath well instructed me in that. + +OED. Now, canst thou tell me where we have set our feet? + +ANT. Athens I know, but not the nearer ground. + +OED. Ay, every man that met us in the way +Named Athens. + +ANT. Shall I go, then, and find out +The name of the spot? + +OED. Yes, if 'tis habitable. + +ANT. It is inhabited. Yet I need not go. +I see a man even now approaching here. + +OED. How? Makes he towards us? Is he drawing nigh? + +ANT. He is close beside us. Whatsoe'er thou findest +Good to be spoken, say it. The man is here. + +_Enter an_ Athenian. + +OED. O stranger, learning from this maid, who sees +Both for herself and me, that thou art come +With timely light to clear our troubled thought-- + +ATHENIAN. Ere thou ask more, come forth from where thou sittest! +Ye trench on soil forbidden human tread. + +OED. What soil? And to what Power thus consecrate? + +ATH. None may go near, nor dwell there. 'Tis possessed +By the dread sisters, children of Earth and Night. + +OED. What holy name will please them, if I pray? + +ATH. 'All seeing Gentle Powers' the dwellers here +Would call them. But each land hath its own rule. + +OED. And gently may they look on him who now +Implores them, and will never leave this grove! + +ATH. What saying is this? + +OED. The watchword of my doom. + +ATH. Yet dare I not remove thee, till the town +Have heard my purpose and confirm the deed. + +OED. By Heaven, I pray thee, stranger, scorn me not, +Poor wanderer that I am, but answer me. + +ATH. Make clear thy drift. Thou'lt get no scorn from me. + +OED. Then, pray thee, tell me how ye name the place +Where now I sit. + +ATH. The region all around +Is sacred. For 'tis guarded and possessed +By dread Poseidon, and the Titan mind +That brought us fire--Prometheus. But that floor +Whereon thy feet are resting, hath been called +The brazen threshold of our land, the stay +Of glorious Athens, and the neighbouring fields +Are fain to honour for their patron-god +Thee, O Colonos, first of Knights, whose name [_Pointing to a statue_ +They bear in brotherhood and own for theirs. +Such, friend, believe me, is this place, not praised +In story, but of many a heart beloved. + +OED. Then is the land inhabited of men? + +ATH. By men, who name them from Colonos there. + +OED. Have they a lord, or sways the people's voice? + +ATH. Lord Theseus, child of Aegeus, our late king. + +OED. Will some one of your people bring him hither? + +ATH. Wherefore? What urgent cause requires his presence? + +OED. He shall gain mightily by granting little. + +ATH. Who can gain profit from the blind? + +OED. The words +These lips shall utter, shall be full of sight. + +ATH. Well, thou look'st nobly, but for thy hard fate. +This course is safe. Thus do. Stay where I found thee, +Till I go tell the neighbour townsmen here +Not of the city, but Colonos. They +Shall judge for thee to abide or to depart. [_Exit_ + +OED. Tell me, my daughter, is the man away? + +ANT. He is gone, father. I alone am near. +Speak what thou wilt in peace and quietness. + +OED. Dread Forms of holy Fear, since in this land +Your sanctuary first gave my limbs repose, +Be not obdurate to my prayer, nor spurn +The voice of Phoebus, who that fateful day, +When he proclaimed my host of ills to come, +Told me of rest after a weary time, +Where else but here? 'When I should reach my bourne, +And find repose and refuge with the Powers +Of reverend name, my troubled life should end +With blessing to the men who sheltered me, +And curses on their race who banished me +and sent me wandering forth.' Whereof he vouched me +Sure token, or by earthquake, or by fire +From heaven, or thundrous voices. And I know +Some aëry message from your shrine hath drawn me +With wingèd whisper to this grove. Not else +Had ye first met me coming, nor had I +Sate on your dread unchiselled seat of stone, +With dry cold lips greeting your sober shrine. +Then give Apollo's word due course, and give +Completion to my life, if in your sight +These toils and sorrows past the human bound +Seem not too little. Kindly, gentle powers, +Offspring of primal darkness, hear my prayer! +Hear it, Athenai, of all cities queen, +Great Pallas' foster-city! Look with ruth +On this poor shadow of great Oedipus, +This fading semblance of his kingly form. + +ANT. Be silent now. There comes an aged band +With jealous looks to know thine errand here. + +OED. I will be silent, and thine arm shall guide +My footstep under covert of the grove +Out of the path, till I make sure what words +These men will utter. Warily to observe +Is the prime secret of the prudent mind. [_Exeunt_ + +CHORUS (_entering_). + Keep watch! Who is it? Look! 1 +Where is he? Vanished! Gone! Oh where? + Most uncontrolled of men! + Look well, inquire him out, + Search keenly in every nook! + --Some wanderer is the aged wight, + A wanderer surely, not a native here. + Else never had he gone within + The untrodden grove +Of these--unmarried, unapproachable in might, + --Whose name we dare not breathe, + But pass their shrine + Without a look, without a word, +Uttering the unheard voice of reverential thought. + But now, one comes, they tell, devoid of awe, + Whom, peering all around this grove + I find not, where he abideth. + +OED. (_behind_). +Behold me! For I 'see by sound,' +As mortals say. + +CH. Oh, Oh! +With horror I see him, with horror hear him speak. + +OED. Pray you, regard me not as a transgressor! + +CH. Defend us, Zeus! Who is that aged wight? + +OED. Not one of happiest fate, +Or enviable, O guardians of this land! +'Tis manifest; else had I not come hither +Led by another's eyes, not moored my bark +On such a slender stay. + +CH. Alas! And are thine eyes 2 +Sightless? O full of misery, + As thou look'st full of years! + But not, if I prevail, + Shalt thou bring down this curse. + Thou art trespassing. Yet keep thy foot + From stumbling in that verdant, voiceless dell, + Where running water as it fills + The hallowed bowl, +Mingles with draughts[1] of honey. Stranger, hapless one! + Avoid that with all care. + Away! Remove! + Distance impedes the sound. Dost hear, +Woe-burdened wanderer? If aught thou carest to bring + Before our council, leave forbidden ground, + And there, where all have liberty, + Speak,--but till then, avaunt thee! + +OED. Daughter, what must I think, or do? + +ANT. My sire! +We must conform us to the people's will, +Yielding ere they compel. + +OED. Give me thy hand. + +ANT. Thou hast it. + +OED. --Strangers, let me not +Be wronged, when I have trusted you +And come from where I stood! + +CH. Assure thee, from this seat +No man shall drag thee off against thy will. + +OED. Farther? + +CH. Advance thy foot. + +OED. Yet more? + +CH. Assist him onward +Maiden, thou hast thy sight. + +ANT. Come, follow, this way follow with thy darkened steps, +Father, the way I am leading thee. + +CH. Content thee, sojourning in a strange land, +O man of woe! +To eschew whate'er the city holds in hate, +And honour what she loves! + +OED. Then do thou lead me, child, +Where with our feet secure from sin +We may be suffered both to speak and hear. +Let us not war against necessity. + +CH. There! From that bench of rock +Go not again astray. + +OED. Even here? + +CH. Enough, I tell thee. + +OED. May I sit? + +CH. Ay, crouch thee low adown +Crooking thy limbs, upon the stone. + +ANT. Father, this task is mine-- +Sink gently down into thy resting-place, + +OED. Woe is me! + +ANT. Supporting on this loving hand +Thy reverend aged form. + +OED. Woe, for my cruel fate! [OEDIPUS _is seated_ + +CH. Now thou unbendest from thy stubborn ways, +O man of woe! +Declare, what mortal wight thou art, +That, marked by troublous fortune, here art led. +What native country, shall we learn, is thine? + +OED. O strangers, I have none! +But do not-- + +CH. What dost thou forbid, old sir? + +OED. Do not, oh, do not ask me who I am, +Nor probe me with more question. + +CH. What dost thou mean? + +OED. My birth is dreadful. + +CH. Tell it forth. + +OED. What should I utter, O my child? Woe is me! + +CH. Thy seed, thy father's name, stranger, pronounce! + +OED. Alas! What must I do? My child! + +ANT. Since no resource avails thee, speak! + +OED. I will. I cannot hide it further. + +CH. Ye are long about it. Haste thee! + +OED. Know ye of one +Begotten of Laius? + +CH. Horror! Horror! Oh! + +OED. Derived from Labdacus? + +CH. O Heaven! + +OED. Fate-wearied Oedipus? + +CH. Art thou he? + +OED. Fear not my words. + +CH. Oh! Oh! + +OED. Unhappy me! + +CH. Oh! + +OED. Daughter, what is coming? + +CH. Away! Go forth. Leave ye the land. Begone! + +OED. And where, then, is the promise thou hast given? + +CH. No doom retributive attends the deed +That wreaks prevenient wrong. +Deceit, matched with deceit, makes recompense +Of evil, not of kindness. Get thee forth! +Desert that seat again, and from this land +Unmooring speed thee away, lest on our state +Thou bring some further bale! + +MONODY. + +ANT. O strangers, full of reverent care! +Since ye cannot endure my father here, +Aged and blind, +Because ye have heard a rumour of the deeds +He did unknowingly,--yet, we entreat you. +Strangers, have pity on me, the hapless girl, +Who pray for mine own sire and for none else, +--Pray, looking in your eyes with eyes not blind. +As if a daughter had appeared to you. +Pleading for mercy to the unfortunate. +We are in your hands as in the hand of God, +Helpless. O then accord the unhoped for boon! +By what is dear to thee, thy veriest own, +I pray thee,--chattel or child, or holier name! +Search through the world, thou wilt not find the man +Who could resist the leading of a God. + +CH. Daughter of Oedipus, be well assured +We view with pity both thy case and his, +But fear of Heavenly wrath confines our speech +To that we have already said to you. + +OED. What profit lives in fame and fair renown +By unsubstantial rumour idly spread? +When Athens is extolled with peerless praise +For reverence, and for mercy!--She alone +The sufferer's shield, the exile's comforter! +What have I reaped hereof? Ye have raised me up +From yonder seat, and now would drive me forth +Fearing a name! For there is nought in me +Or deeds of mine to make you fear. My life +Hath more of wrong endured than of wrong done, +Were it but lawful to disclose to you +Wherefore ye dread me,--not my sin but theirs, +My mother's and my sire's. I know your thought. +Yet never can ye fasten guilt on me, +Who, though I had acted with the clear'st intent, +Were guiltless, for my deed requited wrong. +But as it was, all blindly I went forth +On that dire road, while they who planned my death +Planned it with perfect knowledge. Therefore, sirs, +By Heaven I pray you, as ye have bid me rise, +Protect your suppliant without fail; and do not +In jealous reverence for the blessed Gods +Rob them of truest reverence, but know this:-- +God looks upon the righteousness of men +And their unrighteousness, nor ever yet +Hath one escaped who wrought iniquity. +Take part, then, with the Gods, nor overcloud +The golden fame of Athens with dark deeds; +But as ye have pledged your faith to shelter me, +Defend me and rescue, not rejecting me +Through mere abhorrence of my ruined face. +For on a holy mission am I come, +Sent with rich blessings for your neighbours here. +And when the head and sovereign of your folk +Is present, ye shall learn the truth at full. +Till then, be gracious to me, and not perverse. + +CH. Thy meaning needs must strike our hearts with awe, +Old wanderer! so weighty are the words +That body it forth. Therefore we are content +The Lord of Athens shall decide this case. + +OED. And where is he who rules this country, sirs? + +CH. He keeps his father's citadel. But one +Is gone to fetch him, he who brought us hither. + +OED. Think you he will consider the blind man, +And come in person here to visit him? + +CH. Be sure he will,--when he hath heard thy name. + +OED. And who will carry that? + +CH. 'Tis a long road; +But rumour from the lips of wayfarers +Flies far and wide, so that he needs must hear; +And hearing, never doubt but he will come. +So noised in every land hath been thy name, +Old sovereign,--were he sunk in drowsiness, +That sound would bring him swiftly to thy side. + +OED. Well, may he come to bless his city and me! +When hath not goodness blessed the giver of good? + +ANT. O Heavens! What shall I say, what think, my father? + +OED. Daughter Antigone, what is it? + +ANT. I see +A woman coming toward us, mounted well +On a fair Sicilian palfrey, and her face +With brow-defending hood of Thessaly +Is shadowed from the sun. What must I think? +Is it she or no? Can the eye so far deceive? +It is. 'Tis not. Unhappy that I am, +I know not.--Yes, 'tis she. For drawing near +She greets me with bright glances, and declares +Beyond a doubt, Ismene's self is here. + +OED. What say'st thou, daughter? + +ANT. That I see thy child, +My sister. Soon her voice will make thee sure. + +_Enter_ ISMENE. + +ISMENE. Father and sister!--names for ever dear! +Hard hath it been to find you, yea, and hard +I feel it now to look on you for grief. + +OED. Child, art thou here? + +ISM. Father! O sight of pain! + +OED. Offspring and sister! + +ISM. Woe for thy dark fate! + +OED. Hast thou come, daughter? + +ISM. On a troublous way. + +OED. Touch me, my child! + +ISM. I give a hand to both. + +OED. To her and me? + +ISM. Three linked in one sad knot. + +OED. Child, wherefore art thou come? + +ISM. In care for thee. + +OED. Because you missed me? + +ISM. Ay, and to bring thee tidings, +With the only slave whom I could trust. + +OED. And they, +Thy brethren, what of them? Were they not there +To take this journey for their father's good? + +ISM. Ask not of them. Dire deeds are theirs to day. + +OED. How in all points their life obeys the law +Of Egypt, where the men keep house and weave +Sitting within doors, while the wives abroad +Provide with ceaseless toil the means of life. +So in your case, my daughters, they who should +Have ta'en this burden on them, bide at home +Like maidens, while ye take their place, and lighten +My miseries by your toil. Antigone, +E'er since her childhood ended, and her frame +Was firmly knit, with ceaseless ministry +Still tends upon the old man's wandering, +Oft in the forest ranging up and down +Fasting and barefoot through the burning heat +Or pelting rain, nor thinks, unhappy maid, +Of home or comfort, so her father's need +Be satisfied. And thou, that camest before, +Eluding the Cadmeans, and didst tell me +What words Apollo had pronounced on me. +And when they banished me, stood'st firm to shield me, +What news, Ismene, bring'st thou to thy sire +To day? What mission sped thee forth? I know +Thou com'st not idly, but with fears for me. + +ISM. Father, I will not say what I endured +In searching out the place that sheltered thee. +To tell it o'er would but renew the pain. +But of the danger now encompassing +Thine ill starred sons,--of that I came to speak. +At first they strove with Creon and declared +The throne should be left vacant and the town +Freed from pollution,--paying deep regard +In their debate to the dark heritage +Of ruin that o'ershadowed all thy race. +Far different is the strife which holds them now, +Since some great Power, joined to their sinful mind, +Incites them both to seize on sovereign sway. +Eteocles, in pride of younger years, +Robbed elder Polynices of his right, +Dethroned and banished him. To Argos then +Goes exiled Polynices, and obtains +Through intermarriage a strong favouring league, +Whose word is, 'Either Argos vanquishes +The seed of Cadmus or exalts their fame' +This, father, is no tissue of empty talk, +But dreadful truth, nor can I tell where Heaven +Is to reveal his mercy to thy woe. + +OED. And hadst thou ever hoped the Gods would care +For mine affliction, and restore my life? + +ISM. I hope it now since this last oracle. + +OED. What oracle hath been declared, my child? + +ISM. That they shall seek thee forth, alive or dead, +To bring salvation to the Theban race. + +OED. Who can win safety through such help as mine? + +ISM. 'Tis said their victory depends on thee. + +OED. When shrunk to nothing, am I indeed a man? + +ISM. Yea, for the Gods uphold thee, who then destroyed. + +OED. Poor work, to uphold in age who falls when young! + +ISM. Know howsoe'er that Creon will be here +For this same end, ere many an hour be spent. + +OED. For what end, daughter? Tell me in plain speech. + +ISM. To set thee near their land, that thou may'st be +Beyond their borders, but within their power. + +OED. What good am I, thus lying at their gate? + +ISM. Thine inauspicious burial brings them woe. + +OED. There needs no oracle to tell one that. + +ISM. And therefore they would place thee near their land, +Where thou may'st have no power upon thyself. + +OED. Say then, shall Theban dust o'ershadow me? + +ISM. The blood of kindred cleaving to thy hand, +Father, forbids thee. + +OED. Never, then, henceforth, +Shall they lay hold on me! + +ISM. If that be true, +The brood of Cadmus shall have bale. + +OED. What cause +Having appeared, will bring this doom to pass? + +ISM. Thy wrath, when they are marshalled at thy tomb. + +OED. From whom hast thou heard this? + +ISM. Sworn messengers +Brought such report from Delphi's holy shrine. + +OED. Hath Phoebus so pronounced my destiny? + +ISM. So they declare who brought the answer back. + +OED. Did my sons hear? + +ISM. They know it, both of them. + +OED. Villains, who, being informed of such a word, +Turned not their thoughts toward me, but rather chose +Ambition and a throne! + +ISM. It wounds mine ear +To hear it spoken, but the news I bring +Is to that stern effect. + +OED. Then I pray Heaven +The fury of their fate-appointed strife +May ne'er be quenched, but that the end may come +According to my wish upon them twain +To this contention and arbitrament +Of battle which they now assay and lift +The threatening spear! So neither he who wields +The sceptred power should keep possession still, +Nor should his brother out of banishment +Ever return:--who, when their sire--when I +Was shamefully thrust from my native land, +Checked not my fall nor saved me, but, for them, +I was driven homeless and proclaimed an exile. +Ye will tell me 'twas in reason that the State +Granted this boon to my express desire. +Nay; for in those first hours of agony, +When my heart raged, and it seemed sweetest to me +To die the death, and to be stoned with stones, +No help appeared to yield me that relief. +But after lapse of days, when all my pain +Was softened, and I felt that my hot spirit +Had run to fierce excess of bitterness +In wreaking mine offence--then, then the State +Drove me for ever from the land, and they, +Their father's sons, who might have saved their father, +Cared not to help him, but betrayed by them, +For lack of one light word, I wandered forth +To homeless banishment and beggary. +But these weak maidens to their nature's power +Have striven to furnish me with means to live +And dwell securely, girded round with love. +My sons have chosen before their father's life +A lordly throne and sceptred sovereignty. +But never shall they win me to their aid, +Nor shall the Theban throne for which they strive +Bring them desired content. That well I know, +Comparing with my daughter's prophecies +Those ancient oracles which Phoebus once +Spake in mine ear. Then let them send to seek me +Creon, or who is strongest in their State. +For if ye, strangers, will but add your might +To the protection of these awful Powers, +The guardians of your soil, to shelter me, +Ye shall acquire for this your State a saviour +Mighty to save, and ye shall vex my foes. + +CH. Thou art worthy of all compassion, Oedipus, +Thyself and these thy daughters. Now, moreover +Since thou proclaim'st thyself our country's saviour +I would advise thee for the best. + +OED. Kind sir, +Be my good guide. I will do all thou biddest. + +CH. Propitiate then these holy powers, whose grove +Received thee when first treading this their ground. + +OED. What are the appointed forms? Advise me, sirs. + +CH. First see to it that from some perennial fount +Clean hands provide a pure drink-offering. + +OED. And when I have gotten this unpolluted draught? + +CH. You will find bowls, formed by a skilful hand, +Whose brims and handles you must duly wreathe. + +OED. With leaves or flocks of wool, or in what way? + +CH. With tender wool ta'en from a young ewe-lamb. + +OED. Well, and what follows to complete the rite? + +CH. Next, make libation toward the earliest dawn. + +OED. Mean'st thou from those same urns whereof thou speakest? + +CH. From those three vessels pour three several streams, +Filling the last to the brim. + +OED. With what contents +Must this be filled? Instruct me. + +CH. Not with wine, +But water and the treasure of the bee. + +OED. And when leaf-shadowed Earth has drunk of this, +What follows? + +CH. Thou shalt lay upon her then +From both thy hands a row of olive-twigs-- +Counting thrice nine in all--and add this prayer-- + +OED. That is the chief thing,--that I long to hear. + +CH. As we have named them Gentle, so may they +From gentle hearts accord their suppliant aid;-- +Be this thy prayer, or whoso prays for thee, +Spoken not aloud, but so that none may hear; +And in departing, turn not. This being done, +I can stand by thee without dread. But else, +I needs must fear concerning thee. + +OED. My daughters, +Have ye both heard our friends who inhabit here? + +ANT. Yea, father; and we wait for thy command. + +OED. I cannot go. Two losses hinder me, +Two evils, want of strength and want of sight. +Let one of you go and perform this service. +One soul, methinks, in paying such a debt +May quit a million, if the heart be pure. +Haste, then, to do it. Only leave me not +Untended. For I cannot move alone +Nor without some one to support me and guide. + +ISM. I will be ministrant. But let me know +Where I must find the place of offering. + +CH. Beyond this grove. And, stranger maid, if aught +Seem wanting, there is one at hand to show it. + +ISM. Then to my task. Meantime, Antigone, +Watch by our sire. We must not make account +Of labour that supplies a parent's need. [_Exit_ + +CH. Thy long since slumbering woe I would not wake again, I 1 +But yet I long to learn. + +OED. What hidden lore? + +CH. The pain +That sprang against thy life with spirit-mastering force. + +OED. Ah, sirs, as ye are kind, re-open not that source +Of unavoided shame. + +CH. Friend, we would hear the tale +Told truly, whose wide voice doth hourly more prevail. + +OED. Misery! + +CH. Be not loth! + +OED. O bitterness! + +CH. Consent. +For all thou didst require we gave to thy content. + +OED. Oh, strangers, I have borne an all-too-willing brand, I 2 +Yet not of mine own choice. + +CH. Whence? We would understand. + +OED. Nought knowing of the curse she fastened on my head +Thebè in evil bands bound me. + +CH. Thy mother's bed, +Say, didst thou fill? mine ear still echoes to the noise. + +OED. 'Tis death to me to hear, but, these, mine only joys, +Friends, are my curse. + +CH. O Heaven! + +OED. The travail of one womb +Hath gendered all you see, one mother, one dark doom. + +CH. How? Are they both thy race, and-- II 1 + +OED. Sister branches too, +Nursed at the self-same place with him from whom they grew. + +CH. O horror! + +OED. Ay, not one, ten thousand charged me then! + +CH. O sorrow! + +OED. Never done, an ever-sounding strain. + +CH. O crime! + +OED. By me ne'er wrought. + +CH. But how? + +OED. The guerdon fell. +Would I had earned it not from those I served too well. + +CH. But, hapless, didst thou slay-- II 2 + +OED. What seek ye more to know? + +CH. Thy father? + +OED. O dismay! Ye wound me, blow on blow. + +CH. Thy hand destroyed him. + +OED. Yes. Yet lacks there not herein +A plea for my redress. + +CH. How canst thou clear that sin? + +OED. I'll tell thee. For the deed, 'twas proved mine,--Oh 'tis true! +Yet by Heaven's law I am freed:--I wist not whom I slew. + +CH. Enough. For lo! where Aegeus' princely son, +Theseus, comes hither, summoned at thy word. + +_Enter_ THESEUS. + +THESEUS. From many voices in the former time +Telling thy cruel tale of sight destroyed +I have known thee, son of Laius, and to-day +I know thee anew, in learning thou art here. +Thy raiment, and the sad change in thy face, +Proclaim thee who thou art, and pitying thee, +Dark-fated Oedipus, I fain would hear +What prayer or supplication thou preferrest +To me and to my city, thou and this +Poor maid who moves beside thee. Full of dread +Must be that fortune thou canst name, which I +Would shrink from, since I know of mine own youth, +How in strange lands a stranger as thou art +I bore the brunt of perilous circumstance +Beyond all others; nor shall any man, +Like thee an alien from his native home, +Find me to turn my face from succouring him. +I am a man and know it. To-morrow's good +Is no more mine than thine or any man's. + +OED. Thy noble spirit, Theseus, in few words +Hath made my task of utterance brief indeed. +Thou hast told aright my name and parentage +And native city. Nought remains for me +But to make known mine errand, and our talk +Is ended. + +THE. Tell me plainly thy desire. + +OED. I come to offer thee this woe-worn frame, +As a free boon,--not goodly in outward view. +A better gift than beauty is that I bring. + +THE. What boon dost thou profess to have brought with thee? + +OED. Thou shalt know by and by,--not yet awhile. + +THE. When comes the revelation of thine aid? + +OED. When I am dead, and thou hast buried me. + +THE. Thou cravest the last kindness. What's between +Thou dost forget or else neglect. + +OED. Herein +One word conveys the assurance of the whole. + +THE. You sum up your petition in brief form. + +OED. Look to it. Great issues hang upon this hour. + +THE. Mean'st thou in this the fortune of thy sons +Or mine? + +OED. I mean the force of their behest +Compelling my removal hence to Thebes. + +THE. So thy consent were sought, 'twere fair to yield. + +OED. Once I was ready enough. They would not then. + +THE. Wrath is not wisdom in misfortune, man! + +OED. Nay, chide not till thou knowest. + +THE. Inform me, then! +I must not speak without just grounds. + +OED. O Theseus, +I am cruelly harassed with wrong heaped on wrong. + +THE. Mean'st thou that prime misfortune of thy birth? + +OED. No. That hath long been rumoured through the world. + +THE. What, then, can be thy grief? If more than that, +'Tis more than human. + +OED. Here is my distress:-- +I am made an outcast from my native land +By mine own offspring. And return is barred +For ever to the man who slew his sire. + +THE. How then should they require thee to go near, +And yet dwell separate? + +OED. The voice of Heaven +Will drive them to it. + +THE. As fearing what reverse +Prophetically told? + +OED. Destined defeat +By Athens in the Athenian land. + +THE. What source +Of bitterness 'twixt us and Thebes can rise? + +OED. Dear son of Aegeus, to the Gods alone +Comes never Age nor Death. All else i' the world +Time, the all subduer, merges in oblivion. +Earth and men's bodies weaken, fail, and perish. +Faith withers, breach of faith springs up and glows +And neither men nor cities that are friends +Breathe the same spirit with continuing breath. +Love shall be turned to hate, and hate to love +With many hereafter, as with some to-day. +And though, this hour, between great Thebes and thee +No cloud be in the heaven, yet moving Time +Enfolds a countless brood of days to come, +Wherein for a light cause they shall destroy +Your now harmonious league with severing war, +Even where my slumbering form, buried in death, +Coldly shall drink the life blood of my foes, +If Zeus be Zeus, and his son Phoebus true. +I would not speak aloud of mysteries. +Then let me leave where I began. Preserve +Thine own good faith, and thou shalt never say, +Unless Heaven's promise fail me, that for nought +Athens took Oedipus to dwell with her. + +CH. My lord, long since the stranger hath professed +Like augury of blessings to our land. + +THE. And who would dare reject his proffered good? +Whose bond with us of warrior amity +Hath ne'er been sundered,--and to day he comes +A God-sent suppliant, whose sacred hand +Is rich with gifts for Athens and for me. +In reverent heed whereof I ne'er will scorn +The boon he brings, but plant him in our land. +And if it please our friend to linger here, +Ye shall protect him:--if to go with me +Best likes thee, Oedipus,--ponder, and use +Thy preference. For my course shall join with thine. + +OED. Ye Heavens, reward such excellence! + +THE. How, then? +Is it thy choice now to go home with me? + +OED. Yea, were it lawful. But in this same spot-- + +THE. What wouldst thou do? I'll not withstand thy will. + +OED. I must have victory o'er my banishers. + +THE. Thy dwelling with us, then, is our great gain? + +OED. Yes, if thou fail me not, but keep thy word. + +THE. Nay, fear not me! I will aye be true to thee. + +OED. I will not bind thee, like a knave, with oaths. + +THE. Oaths were no stronger than my simple word. + +OED. What will ye do, then? + +THE. What is that thou fearest? + +OED. They will come hither. + +THE. Thy guards will see to that. + +OED. Beware, lest, if you leave me-- + +THE. Tell not me, +I know my part. + +OED. Terror will have me speak. + +THE. Terror and I are strangers. + +OED. But their threats! +Thou canst not know-- + +THE. I know that none shall force +Thee from this ground against thy will. Full oft +Have threatening words in wrath been voluble, +Yet, when the mind regained her place again, +The threatened evil vanished. So to-day +Bold words of boastful meaning have proclaimed +Thy forcible abduction by thy kin. +Yet shall they find (I know it) the voyage from Thebes, +On such a quest, long and scarce navigable. +Whate'er my thought, if Phoebus sent thee forth, +I would bid thee have no fear. And howsoe'er, +My name will shield thee from all injury. + +CHORUS. +Friend! in our land of conquering steeds thou art come I 1 +To this Heaven-fostered haunt, Earth's fairest home, +Gleaming Colonos, where the nightingale +In cool green covert warbleth ever clear, +True to the clustering ivy and the dear + Divine, impenetrable shade, +From wildered boughs and myriad fruitage made, +Sunless at noon, stormless in every gale. +Wood-roving Bacchus there, with mazy round, +And his nymph nurses range the unoffended ground. + +And nourished day by day with heavenly dew I 2 +Bright flowers their never-failing bloom renew, +From eldest time Dêo and Cora's crown +Full-flowered narcissus, and the golden beam +Of crocus, while Cephisus' gentle stream + In runnels fed by sleepless springs +Over the land's broad bosom daily brings +His pregnant waters, never dwindling down. +The quiring Muses love to seek the spot +And Aphroditè's golden car forsakes it not. + +Here too a plant, nobler than e'er was known II 1 +On Asian soil, grander than yet hath grown +In Pelops' mighty Dorian isle, unsown, + Free, self-create, the conquering foeman's fear, +The kind oil-olive, silvery-green, +Chief nourisher of childish life, is seen +To burgeon best in this our mother-land. +No warrior, young, nor aged in command, + Shall ravage this, or scathe it with the spear; + For guardian Zeus' unslumbering eye + Beholds it everlastingly, +And Athens' grey-eyed Queen, dwelling for ever near. + +Yet one more praise mightier than all I tell II 2 +O'er this my home, that Ocean loves her well, + And coursers love her, children of the wave +To grace these roadways Prince Poseidon first +Framed for the horse, that else had burst +From man's control, the spirit taming bit +And the trim bark, rowed by strong arms, doth flit + O'er briny seas with glancing motion brave + Lord of the deep! by that thy glorious gift +Thou hast established our fair town +For ever in supreme renown-- +The Sea nymphs' plashing throng glide not more smoothly swift. + +ANT. O land exalted thus in blessing and praise, +Now is thy time to prove these brave words true. + +OED. What hath befallen, my daughter? + +ANT. Here at hand, +Not unaccompanied, is Creon, father. + +OED. Dear aged friends, be it yours now to provide +My safety and the goal of my desire! + +CH. It shall be so. Fear nought. I am old and weak, +But Athens in her might is ever young. + +_Enter_ CREON. + +CREON. Noble inhabiters of Attic ground +I see as 'twere conceived within your eyes +At mine approach some new engendered fear +Nay, shrink not, nor let fall one fretful word. +I bring no menace with me, for mine age +Is feeble, and the state whereto I come +Is mighty,--none in Hellas mightier,-- +That know I well. But I am sent to bring +By fair persuasion to our Theban plain +The reverend form of him now present here. +Nor came this mission from one single will, +But the commands of all my citizens +Are on me, seeing that it becomes my birth +To mourn his sorrows most of all the state +Thou, then, poor sufferer, lend thine ear to me +And come. All Cadmus' people rightfully +Invite thee with one voice unto thy home, +I before all,--since I were worst of men, +Were I not pained at thy misfortunes, sir, +--To see thee wandering in the stranger's land +Aged and miserable, unhoused, unfed, +Singly attended by this girl, whose fall +To such a depth of undeservèd woe +I could not have imagined! Hapless maid! +Evermore caring for thy poor blind head, +Roving in beggary, so young, with no man +To marry her,--a mark for all mischance. +O misery, what deep reproach I have laid +On thee and me and our whole ill-starred race! +But who can hide evil that courts the day? +Thou, therefore, Oedipus, without constraint, +(By all the Gods of Cadmus' race I pray thee) +Remove this horror from the sight of men +By coming to the ancestral city and home +Of thy great sires,--bidding a kind farewell +To worthiest Athens, as is meet. But Thebes, +Thy native land, yet more deserves thy love. + +OED. Thou unabashed in knavery, who canst frame +For every cause the semblance of a plea +Pranked up with righteous seeming, why again +Would'st thou contrive my ruin, and attempt +To catch me where I most were grieved being caught? +Beforetime, when my self-procurèd woes +Were plaguing me, and I would fain have rushed +To instant banishment, thou wouldst not then +Grant this indulgence to my keen desire. +But when I had fed my passion to the full, +And all my pleasure was to live at home, +Then 'twas thy cue to expel and banish me, +Nor was this name of kindred then so dear. +Now once again, when thou behold'st this city +And people joined in friendly bands with me, +Thou wouldst drag me from my promised resting-place, +Hiding hard policy with courtly show. +Strange kindness, to love men against their will! +Suppose, when thou wert eager in some suit, +No grace were granted thee, but all denied, +And when thy soul was sated, then the boon +Were offered, when such grace were graceless now; +--Poor satisfaction then were thine, I ween! +Even such a gift thou profferest me to-day, +Kind in pretence, but really full of evil. +These men shall hear me tell thy wickedness. +Thou comest to take me, not unto my home, +But to dwell outlawed at your gate, that so +Your Thebè may come off untouched of harm +From her encounter with Athenian men. +Ye shall not have me thus. But you shall have +My vengeful spirit ever in your land +Abiding for destruction,--and my sons +Shall have this portion in their father's ground, +To die thereon. Know I not things in Thebes +Better than thou? Yea, for 'tis mine to hear +Safer intelligencers,--Zeus himself, +And Phoebus, high interpreter of Heaven. +Thou bring'st a tongue suborned with false pretence, +Sharpened with insolence;--but in shrewd speech +Thou shalt find less of profit than of bane. +This thou wilt ne'er believe. Therefore begone! +Let me live here. For even such life as mine +Were not amiss, might I but have my will. + +CR. Which of us twain, believ'st thou, in this talk +Hath more profoundly sinned against thy peace? + +OED. If thou prevail'st with these men present here +Even as with me, I shall be well content. + +CR. Unhappy man, will not even Time bring forth +One spark of wisdom to redeem thine age? + +OED. Thou art a clever talker. But I know +No just man who in every cause abounds +With eloquent speech. + +CR. 'Tis not to abound in speech, +When one speaks fitting words in season. + +OED. Oh! +As if thy words were few and seasonable! + +CR. Not in the dotard's judgement. + +OED. Get thee gone! +I speak their mind as well--and dog not me +Beleaguering mine appointed dwelling-place! + +CR. These men shall witness--for thy word is naught; +And for thy spiteful answer to thy friends, +If once I seize thee-- + +OED. Who shall seize on me +Without the will of my protectors here? + +CR. Well, short of that, thou shalt have pain, I trow. + +OED. What hast thou done, that thou canst threaten thus? + +CR. One of thy daughters I have sent in charge. +This other, I myself will quickly take. + +OED. Oh, cruel! + +CR. Soon thou'lt have more cause to cry. + +OED. Hast thou my child? + +CR. I will have both ere long. + +OED. Dear friends, what will ye do? Will ye forsake me? +Will you not drive the offender from your land? + +CH. Stranger, depart at once! Thou hast done wrong, +And wrong art doing. + +CR. (_to attendants_). + Now then, lead her away +By force, if she refuse to go with you. + +ANT. Ah me! unhappy! Whither shall I flee? +What aid of God or mortal can I find? + +CH. What dost thou, stranger? + +CR. I will lay no hand +On him, but on my kinswoman. + +OED. Alas! +Lords of Colonos, will ye suffer it? + +CH. Thou art transgressing, stranger. + +CR. Nay, I stand +Within my right. + +CH. How so? + +CR. I take mine own. + +OED. Athens to aid! + +CH. Stranger, forbear! What dost thou? +Let go, or thou shalt try thy strength with us. + +CR. Unhand me! + +CH. Not while this intent is thine. + +CR. If you harm me, you will have war with Thebes. + +OED. Did I not tell you this would come? + +CH. Release +The maid with speed. + +CR. Command where you have power. + +CH. Leave hold, I say! + +CR. Away with her, say I! + +CH. Come hither, neighbours, come! +My city suffers violence. Wrongful men +Are hurting her with force. Come hither to me! + +ANT. Unhappy, I am dragged away,--O strangers! + +OED. Where art thou, O my child? + +ANT. I go away +Against my will. + +OED. Reach forth thy hands, my daughter! + +ANT. I cannot. + +CR. Off with her! + +OED. Alas, undone! [_Exit_ ANTIGONE, _guarded_ + +CR. Thou shalt not have these staves henceforth to prop +Thy roaming to and fro. Take thine own way! +Since thou hast chosen to thwart thy nearest kin,-- +Beneath whose orders, though a royal man, +I act herein,--and thine own native land. +The time will surely come when thou shalt find +That in this deed and all that thou hast done +In opposition to their friendly will, +Thou hast counselled foolishly against thy peace, +Yielding to anger, thy perpetual bane. [_Going_ + +CH. Stranger, stand where thou art! + +CR. Hands off, I say! + +CH. Thou shalt not go, till thou restore the maids. + +CR. Soon, then, my city shall retain from you +A weightier cause of war. I will lay hands +Not on the maidens only. + +CH. What wilt thou do? + +CR. Oedipus I will seize and bear away. + +CH. Great Heaven forfend! + +CR. It shall be done forthwith, +Unless the ruler of this land prevent me. + +OED. O shameless utterance! Wilt thou lay thy hold +On me? + +CR. Be silent! Speak no more! + +OED. No more? +May these dread Goddesses not close my lips +To this one prayer of evil against thee, +Thou villain, who, when I have lost mine eyes, +Bereavest me of all that I had left +To make my darkness light! Therefore I pray, +For this thy wrongful act, may He in heaven +Whose eye sees all things, Helios, give to thee +Slowly to wither in an age like mine! + +CR. Men of this land, bear witness to his rage! + +OED. They see us both, and are aware that I +Repay thee but with words for deeds of wrong. + +CR. No longer will I curb my wrath. Though lonely +And cumbered by mine age, I will bear off +This man! + +OED. Me miserable! + +CH. How bold thou art, +If standing here thou think'st to do this thing! + +CR. I do. + +CH. Then Athens is to me no city. + +CR. Slight men prevail o'er strength in a just cause. + +OED. Hear ye his words? + +CH. He shall not make them good. +Be witness, Zeus! + +CR. Zeus knows more things than thou. + +OED. Is not this violence? + +CR. Violence you must bear. + +CH. Come, chieftain of our land! +Come hither with all speed. They pass the bound. + +_Enter_ THESEUS. + +THE. Wherefore that shouting? Daunted by what fear +Stayed ye me sacrificing to the God[2] +Who guards this deme Colonos? Let me know +What cause so hastened my reluctant foot. + +OED. Dear friend (I know thy voice addressing us), +One here hath lately done me cruel wrong. + +THE. Who is the wrong-doer, say, and what the deed? + +OED. This Creon, whom thou seest, hath torn away +Two children that were all in all to me. + +THE. Can this be possible? + +OED. Thou hear'st the truth. + +THE. Then one of you run to the altar-foot +Hard by, and haste the people from the rite, +Horsemen and footmen at the height of speed +To race unto the parting of the roads +Where travellers from both gorges wont to meet. +Lest there the maidens pass beyond our reach +And I be worsted by this stranger's might +And let him laugh at me. Be swift! Away! +--For him, were I as wroth as he deserves, +He should not go unpunished from my hand. +But now he shall be ruled by the same law +He thought to enforce. Thou goest not from this ground +Till thou hast set these maids in presence here; +Since by thine act thou hast disgraced both me +And thine own lineage and thy native land, +Who with unlicensed inroad hast assailed +An ancient city, that hath still observed +Justice and equity, and apart from law +Ratifies nothing; and, being here, hast cast +Authority to the winds, and made thine own +Whate'er thou wouldst, bearing it off perforce,-- +Deeming of me forsooth as nothing worth, +And of my city as one enslaved to foes +Or void of manhood. Not of Thebe's will +Come such wild courses. It is not her way +To foster men in sin, nor would she praise +Thy doing, if she knew that thou hast robbed +Me and the gods, dragging poor suppliant wights +From their last refuge at thy will--I would not, +Had I perchance set foot within thy land, +Even were my cause most righteous, have presumed, +Without consent of him who bore chief sway, +To seize on any man, but would have known +How men should act who tread on foreign soil. +Thou bring'st disgrace on thine own mother state +All undeservedly, and the lapse of years +Hath left thee aged, but not wise--Again +I bid those maids now to be brought with speed, +Unless thou would'st be made a sojourner +In Athens by compulsion. This I speak +Not with my lips alone, but from my will. + +CH. Stranger, dost thou perceive? Thy parentage +Is owned as noble, but thine evil deeds +Are blazoned visibly. + +CR. Great Aegeus' son! +Not as misprising this thy city's strength +In arms, or wisdom in debate, I dared +This capture, but in simple confidence +Thy citizens would not so envy me +My blood relations, as to harbour them +Against my will,--nor welcome to their hearths +A man incestuous and a parricide, +The proved defiler of his mother's bed +Such was the mount of Ares that I knew, +Seat of high wisdom, planted in their soil, +That suffers no such lawless runaways +To haunt within the borders of your realm. +Relying on that I laid my hands upon +This quarry, nor had done so, were it not +That bitterly he cursed myself and mine. +That moved me to requital, since even Age +Still bears resentment, till the power of death +Frees men from anger, as from all annoy. +Being sovereign here thou wilt do thy pleasure. I, +Though I have justice on my side, am weak +Through being alone. Yet if you meddle with me, +Old as I am, you'll find me dangerous. + +OED. O boldness void of shame! Whom dost thou think +Thy obloquy most harms, this agèd head +Or thine, who hast thus let pass thy lips the crimes +I have borne unwittingly. So Heaven was pleased +To wreak some old offence upon our race. +Since in myself you will find no stain of sin +For which such ruinous error 'gainst myself +And mine own house might be the recompense. +Tell me, I pray thee, if a word from Heaven +Came to my father through the oracle +That he should die by his son's hand,--what right +Hast thou to fasten that reproach on me, +The child not yet begotten of my sire, +An unborn nothing, unconceived? Or if, +Born as I was to misery, I encountered +And killed my father in an angry fray, +Nought knowing of what I did or whom I slew, +What reason is't to blame the unwitting deed? +And, oh, thou wretch! art not ashamed to force me +To speak that of my mother, thine own sister, +Which I will speak, for I will not keep silence, +Since thou hast been thus impious with thy tongue. +She was my mother, oh, the bitter word! +Though neither knew it, and having borne me, she +Became the mother of children to her son, +An infamous birth! Yet this I know, thy crime +Of speech against us both is voluntary. +But all involuntary was my deed +In marriage and is this mine utterance now. +No,--that shall not be called a bosom-sin, +Nor shall my name be sullied with the deed, +Thy tongue would brand on me, against my sire. +For answer me one question. If to-day, +Here, now, one struck at thee a murderous stroke,-- +At thee, the righteous person,--wouldst thou ask +If such assailant were thy sire, or strike +Forthwith? Methinks, as one who cares to live, +You would strike before you questioned of the right, +Or reasoned of his kindred whom you slew. +Such was the net that snared me: such the woes +Heaven drew me to fulfil. My father's spirit, +Came he to life, would not gainsay my word. +But thou, to whom, beneath the garb of right, +No matter is too dreadful or too deep +For words, so rail'st on me, in such a presence. +Well thou dost flatter the great name of Theseus, +And Athens in her glory stablished here, +But midst thy fulsome praises thou forgettest +How of all lands that yield the immortal Gods +Just homage of true piety, this land +Is foremost. Yet from hence thou would'st beguile +Me, the aged suppliant. Nay, from hence thou would'st drag +Myself with violence, and hast reft away +My children. Wherefore I conjure these powers, +With solemn invocation and appeal, +To come and take my part, that thou may'st know +What men they are who guard this hallowed realm. + +CH. My lord, the stranger deserves well. His fate +Is grievous, but the more demands our aid. + +THE. Enough of words. The captors and their prey +Are hasting;--we, they have wronged, are standing still. + +CR. I am powerless here. What dost thou bid me do? + +THE. Lead us the way they are gone. I too must be +Thine escort, that if hereabout thou hast +Our maidens, thou mayest show them to my sight. +But if men flee and bear them, we may spare +Superfluous labour. Others hotly urge +That business, whom those robbers shall not boast +Before their Gods to have 'scaped out of this land. +Come, be our guide! Thou hast and hast not. Fortune +Hath seized thee seizing on thy prey. So quickly +Passes the gain that's got by wrongful guile. +Nay, thou shalt have no helper. Well I wot +Thou flew'st not to this pitch of truculent pride +Alone, or unsupported by intrigue; +But thy bold act hath some confederate here. +This I must look into, nor let great Athens +Prove herself weaker than one single man. +Hast caught my drift? Or is my voice as vain +Now, as you thought it when you planned this thing? + +CR. I will gainsay nought of what thou utterest here. +But once in Thebes, I too shall know my course. + +THE. Threaten, but go! Thou, Oedipus, remain +In quietness and perfect trust that I, +If death do not prevent me, will not rest +Till I restore thy children to thy hand. + +CHORUS. + Soon shall the wheeling foes I 1 +Clash with the din of brazen-throated War. + Would I were there to see them close, +Be the onset near or far! +Whether at Daphnè's gorge to Phoebus dear, + Or by the torch-lit shore +Where kind maternal powers for evermore +Guard golden mysteries of holy fear + To nourish mortal souls +Whose voice the seal of silent awe controls +Imprinted by the Eumolpid minister. + There, on that sacred way, + Shall the divinest head +Of royal Theseus, rouser of the fray, +And those free maids, in their two squadrons led, + Meet in the valorous fight + That conquers for the right. + + Else, by the snow-capped rock, I 2 +Passing to westward, they are drawing nigh +The tract beyond the pasture high + Where Oea feeds her flock. +The riders ride, the rattling chariots flee + At racing speed.--'Tis done! +He shall be vanquished. Our land's chivalry + Are valiant, valiant every warrior son + Of Theseus.--On they run? +Frontlet and bridle glancing to the light, +Forward each steed is straining to the fight, + Forward each eye and hand + Of all that mounted band, +Athena's knighthood, champions of her name +And his who doth the mighty waters tame, + Rhea's son that from of old + Doth the Earth with seas enfold. + +Strive they? Or is the battle still to be? II 1 + An eager thought in me +Is pleading, 'Soon must they restore +The enduring maid, whose kinsmen vex her sore!' +To-day shall Zeus perform his will. +The noble cause wins my prophetic skill. +Oh! had I wings, and like a storm-swift dove +Poised on some aery cloud might there descry + The conflict from above, +Scouring the region with mine eye! + +Sovran of Heaven, all-seeing Zeus, afford II 2 + Unto this nation's lord +Puissance to crown the fair emprise, +Thou, and all-knowing Pallas, thy dread child! +Apollo, huntsman of the wild, +--Thou and thy sister, who doth still pursue +Swift many-spotted stags,--arise, arise, +With love we pray you, be our champions true! + Yea, both together come +To aid our people and our home! + +LEADER OF CH. +Ah! wanderer friend, thou wilt not have to accuse +Thy seer of falsehood. I behold the maids +This way once more in safe protection brought. + +OED. Where? Is it true? How say you? + +ANT. Father, father! +Oh that some God would give thee once to see +The man whose royal virtue brings us hither! + +OED. My daughters, are ye there? + +ANT. Saved by the arm +Of Theseus and his most dear ministers. + +OED. Come near me, child, and let your father feel +The treasure he had feared for ever gone. + +ANT. Not hard the boon which the heart longs to give. + +OED. Where are ye, where? + +ANT. Together we draw near. + +OED. Loved saplings of a solitary tree! + +ANT. A father's heart hides all. + +OED. Staves of mine age! + +ANT. Forlorn supporters of an ill-starred life! + +OED. I have all I love; nor would the stroke of death +Be wholly bitter, with you standing by. +Press close to either side of me, my children; +Grow to your sire, and ye shall give me rest +From mine else lonely, hapless, wandering life. +And tell your tale as briefly as ye may, +Since at your age short speaking is enough. + +ANT. Here is our saviour. He shall tell thee all, +And shorten labour both for us and thee. + +OED. Think it not strange, dear friend, that I prolong +The unhoped-for greeting with my children here. +Full well I know, the joy I find in them +Springs from thee only, and from none beside. +Thou, thou alone hast saved them. May the Gods +Fulfil my prayer for thee and for thy land! +Since only in Athens, only here i' the world, +Have I found pious thought and righteous care, +And truth in word and deed. From a full heart +And thankful mind I thus requite thy love, +Knowing all I have is due to none but thee. +Extend to me, I pray thee, thy right hand, +O King, that I may feel thee, and may kiss, +If that be lawful, thy dear head! And yet +What am I asking? How can one like me +Desire of thee to touch an outlawed man, +On whose dark life all stains of sin and woe +Are fixed indelibly? I will not dare-- +No, nor allow thee!--None but only they +Who have experience of such woes as mine +May share their wretchedness. Thou, where thou art +Receive my salutation, and henceforth +Continue in thy promised care of me +As true as to this moment thou hast proved. + +THE. I marvel not at all if mere delight +In these thy daughters lengthened thy discourse, +Or led thee to address them before me. +That gives me not the shadow of annoy. +Nor am I careful to adorn my life +With words of praise, but with the light of deeds. +And thou hast proof of this. For I have failed +In nought of all I promised, agèd King! +Here stand I with thy children in full life +Unharmed in aught the foe had threatened them. +And now why vaunt the deeds that won the day, +When these dear maids will tell them in thine ear? +But let me crave thy counsel on a thing +That crossed me as I came. Small though it seem +When told, 'tis worthy of some wonder, too. +Be it small or great, men should not let things pass. + +OED. What is it, O son of Aegeus? Let me hear, +I am wholly ignorant herein. + +THE. We are told +One, not thy townsman, but of kin to thee, +Hath come in unawares, and now is found +Kneeling at great Poseidon's altar, where +I sacrificed, what time ye called me hither. + +OED. What countryman, and wherefore suppliant there? + +THE. One thing alone I know. He craves of thee +Some speech, they say, that will not hold thee long. + +OED. His kneeling there imports no trivial suit. + +THE. All he desires, they tell me, is to come, +Have speech with thee, and go unharmed away. + +OED. Who can he be that kneels for such a boon? + +THE. Think, if at Argos thou a kinsman hast +Who might desire to obtain so much of thee. + +OED. Dear friend! Hold there! No more! + +THE. What troubles thee? + +OED. Ask it not of me! + +THE. What? Speak plainly forth. + +OED. Thy words have shown me who the stranger is. + +THE. And who is he that I should say him nay? + +OED. My son, O King,--hateful to me, whose tongue +Least of the world I could endure to hear. + +THE. What pain is there in hearing? Canst thou not +Hear, and refuse to do what thou mislikest? + +OED. My Lord, I have come to loathe his very voice. +I pray thee, urge me not to yield in this. + +THE. Think that the God must be considered too, +The right of suppliants may compel thy care. + +ANT. Father, give ear, though I be young that speak. +Yield to the scruple of the King, who claims +This reverence for his people's God, and yield +To us who beg our brother may come near. +Take heart! He will not force thee from thy will. +What harm can come of hearkening? Wisdom's ways +Reveal themselves through words. He is thy son. +Whence, were his heartless conduct against thee +Beyond redemption impious, O my sire, +Thy vengeance still would be unnatural. +Oh let him!--Others have had evil sons +And passionate anger, but the warning voice +Of friends hath charmed their mood. Then do not thou +Look narrowly upon thy present griefs, +But on those ancient wrongs thou didst endure +From father and from mother. Thence thou wilt learn +That evil passion ever ends in woe. +Thy sightless eyes are no light argument +To warn thee through the feeling of thy loss. +Relent and hear us! 'Tis a mere disgrace +To beg so long for a just boon. The King +Is kind to thee. Be generous in return. + +OED. Child, your dear pleading to your hard request +Hath won me. Let this be as ye desire. +Only, my lord, if he is to come near, +Let no man's power molest my liberty. + +THE. I need no repetition, aged friend, +Of that request. Vaunt will I not, but thou +Be sure, if Heaven protect me, thou art free. + +CHORUS. + Who, loving life, hath sought I 1 + To outlive the appointed span, + Shall be arraigned before my thought + For an infatuate man. + Since the added years entail + Much that is bitter,--joy + Flies out of ken, desire doth fail, + The longed-for moments cloy. + But when the troublous life, + Be it less or more, is past, + With power to end the strife + Comes rescuing Death at last. +Lo! the dark bridegroom waits! No festal choir +Shall grace his destined hour, no dance, no lyre! + + Far best were ne'er to be, I 2 + But, having seen the day, + Next best by far for each to flee + As swiftly as each may, + Yonder from whence he came: + For once let Youth be there + With her light fooleries, who shall name + The unnumbered brood of Care? + No trial spared, no fall! + Feuds, battles, murders, rage, + Envy, and last of all, + Despised, dim, friendless age! +Ay, there all evils, crowded in one room, +Each at his worst of ill, augment the gloom. + +Such lot is mine, and round this man of woe, II + --As some grey headland of a northward shore +Bears buffets of all-wintry winds that blow,-- + New storms of Fate are bursting evermore + In thundrous billows, borne + Some from the waning light, +Some through mid-noon, some from the rising morn, + Some from the realm of Night. + +ANT. Ah! Who comes here? Sure 'tis the Argive man +Approaching hitherward, weeping amain. +And, father, it is he! + +OED. Whom dost thou mean? + +ANT. The same our thoughts have dwelt on all this while, +Polynices. He is here. + +POLYNICES. What shall I do? +I stand in doubt which first I should lament, +My own misfortune or my father's woe, +Whom here I find an outcast in his age +With you, my sisters, in the stranger land, +Clothed in such raiment, whose inveterate filth +Horridly clings, wasting his reverend form, +While the grey locks over the eye-reft brow +Wave all unkempt upon the ruffling breeze. +And likewise miserable appears the store +He bears to nourish that time-wasted frame. +Wretch that I am! Too late I learn the truth, +And here give witness to mine own disgrace, +Which is as deep as thy distress. Myself +Declare it. Ask not others of my guilt. +But seeing that Zeus on his almighty throne +Keeps Mercy in all he doth to counsel him, +Thou, too, my father, let her plead with thee! +The evil that is done may yet be healed; +It cannot be augmented. Art thou silent? +O turn not from me, father! Speak but once! +Wilt thou not answer, but with shame dismiss me +Voiceless, nor make known wherefore thou art wroth? +O ye his daughters, one with me in blood, +Say, will not ye endeavour to unlock +The stern lips of our unrelenting sire? +Let him not thus reject in silent scorn +Without response the suppliant of Heaven! + +ANT. Thyself, unhappy one, say why thou camest. +Speech ofttimes, as it flows, touching some root +Of pity or joy, or even of hate, hath stirred +The dumb to utterance. + +POL. I will tell my need:-- +First claiming for protector the dread God +From whose high altar he who rules this land +Hath brought me under safe-guard of his power, +Scatheless to speak and hear and go my way. +His word, I am well assured, will be made good, +Strangers, by you, and by my sisters twain, +And by our sire.--Now let me name mine errand. +I am banished, father, from our native land, +Because, being elder-born, I claimed to sit +Upon thy sovereign throne. For this offence +Eteocles, thy younger son, exíled me, +Not having won the advantage in debate +Or trial of manhood, but through guileful art +Gaining the people's will. Whereof I deem +Thy Fury the chief author; and thereto +Prophetic voices also testify. +For when I had come to Dorian Argolis, +I raised, through marriage with Adrastus' child, +An army bound in friendly league with me, +Led by the men who in the Apian land +Hold first pre-eminence and honour in war, +With whose aid levying all that mighty host +Of seven battalions, I have deeply sworn +Either to die, or drive from Theban ground +Those who such wrongs have wrought. So far, so well. +But why come hither? Father, to crave thine aid +With earnest supplication for myself +And for my firm allies, who at this hour, +Seven leaders of seven bands embattled there, +Encompass Thebè's plain. Amphiaráus, +Foremost in augury, foremost in war, +First wields his warlike spear. Next, Oeneus' son, +Aetolian Tydeus; then Etéoclus +Of Argive lineage; fourth, Hippomedon, +Sent by his father Tálaüs, and the fifth +Is Capancus, who brags he will destroy +Thebè with desolating fire. The sixth, +Parthonopaeus, from the Arcadian glen +Comes bravely down, swift Atalanta's child, +Named from his mother's lingering maidenhood +Ere she conceived him. And the seventh am I, +Thy son, or if not thine, but the dire birth +Of evil Destiny, yet named thy son, +Who lead this dauntless host from Argolis +Against the Theban land. Now one and all +We pray thee on our knees, conjuring thee +As thou dost love these maids and thine own life, +My father, to forgive me, ere I go +To be revenged upon my brother there +Who drave me forth and robbed me of my throne. +If aught in prophecy deserves belief, +'Tis certain, whom thou favourest, those shall win. +Now by the wells whereof our fathers drank +And by the Gods they worshipped, hear our prayer, +Grant this petition: since alike in woe, +Alike in poverty and banishment, +Partakers of one destiny, thou and I +Cringe to the stranger for a dwelling place. +Whilst he at home, the tyrant, woe is me, +Laughs at us both in soft luxurious pride. +Whose might, so thou wilt favour my design, +I will lightly scatter in one little hour; +And plant thee in thy Theban palace home +Near to myself, hurling the usurper forth. +All this with thy consent I shall achieve, +But without thee, I forfeit life and all. + +CH. For his sake who hath brought him, Oedipus, +Say what is meet, and let him go in peace. + +OED. Ay, were it not the lord of all this land +Theseus, that brought him to me and desired +He might hear words from me,--never again +Had these tones fallen upon his ear. But now +That boon is granted him: he shall obtain, +Ere he depart, such utterance of my tongue, +As ne'er shall give him joy,--ne'er comfort thee, +Villain, who when possessed of the chief power +Which now thy brother holds o'er Theban land, +Didst banish me, thy father, who stand here, +To live in exile, clothed with such attire, +That moves thy tears now that thine own estate +Is fallen into like depth of struggling woe. +But tears are bootless. Howsoe'er I live, +I must endure, and hold thee still my murderer. +'Tis thou hast girt me round with misery, +'Tis thou didst drive me forth, and driven by thee +I beg my bread, a wandering sojourner. +Yea, had these daughters not been born to me +To tend me, I were dead, for all thou hast done. +They have rescued, they have nursed me. They are men, +Not women, in the strength of ministry. +Ye are another's, not my sons--For this +The eye of Destiny pursues thee still +Eager to light on thee with instant doom +If once that army move toward the town +Of ancient Thebes,--the _town_, no dearer name, +'City' or 'Country' shall beseem thy lip +Till ye both fall, stained with fraternal gore +Long since I launched that curse against you twain +Which here again I summon to mine aid, +That ye may learn what duty children owe +To a parent, nor account it a light thing +That ye were cruel sons to your blind sire. +These maidens did not so. Wherefore my curse +Prevails against thy prayer for Thebe's throne, +If ancient Zeus, the eternal lawgiver, +Have primal Justice for his counsellor. +Begone, renounced and fatherless for me, +And take with thee, vilest of villanous men, +This imprecation:--Vain be thine attempt +In levying war against thy father's race, +Frustrate be thy return to Argos' vale: +Die foully by a fratricidal hand +And foully slay him who hath banished thee! +Further, I bid the horror breathing gloom +Tartarean, of the vault that holds my sire, +To banish thee from that last home: I invoke +The Spirits who haunt this ground, and the fierce God +Who hath filled you both with this unnatural hate.-- +Go now with all this in thine ears, and tell +The people of Cadmus and thy firm allies +In whom thou trustest, what inheritance +Oedipus hath divided to his sons. + +CH. 'Tis pity for thee, prince, to have come at all; +And now we bid thee go the way thou camest. + +POL. Alas! Vain enterprise, and hope undone! +Oh, my poor comrades! To what fatal end +I led you forth from Argos, woe is me! +I may not tell it you,--no, nor return. +In silence I must go to meet my doom. +Daughters of this inexorable sire, +Since now ye have heard his cruel curse on me, +Ah! in Heaven's name, my sisters, do not you +Treat me despitefully, but if, one day, +Our father's execration is fulfilled +And ye shall be restored to Theban ground, +Grace me with funeral honours and a tomb! +So shall this ample praise which ye receive +For filial ministration, in that day +Be more than doubled through your care for me. + +ANT. Brother, I beg thee, listen to my prayer! + +POL. Dearest Antigone, speak what thou wilt. + +ANT. Turn back thy host to Argos with all speed, +And ruin not thyself and Thebè too. + +POL. Impossible. If once I shrink for fear, +No longer may I lead them to the war. + +ANT. But why renew thy rage? What benefit +Comes to thee from o'erturning thine own land? + +POL. 'Tis shameful to remain in banishment, +And let my brother mock my right of birth. + +ANT. Then seest thou not how true unto their aim +Our father's prophecies of mutual death +Against you both are sped? + +POL. He speaks his wish. +'Tis not for me to yield. + +ANT. O me, unhappy! +But who that hears the deep oracular sound +Of his dark words, will dare to follow thee? + +POL. They will not hear of danger from my mouth. +Wise generals tell of vantage, not of bale. + +ANT. Art thou then so resolved, O brother mine? + +POL. I am. Retard me not! I must attend +To my dark enterprise, blasted and foiled +Beforehand by my father's angry curse. +But as for you, Heaven prosper all your way, +If ye will show this kindness in my death, +For nevermore in life shall ye befriend me! +Nay, cling to me no longer. Fare ye well. +Ye will behold my living form no more. + +ANT. O misery! + +POL. Bewail me not. + +ANT. And who +That saw thee hurrying forth to certain death +Would not bewail thee, brother? + +POL. If Fate wills, +Why, I must die. + +ANT. Nay, but be ruled by me. + +POL. Give me not craven counsel. + +ANT. Woe is me, +To lose thee! + +POL. Heaven hath power to guide the event +Or thus or otherwise. Howe'er it prove, +I pray that ye may ne'er encounter ill. +All men may know, ye merit nought but good. + [_Exit. The sky is overcast--a storm is threatened_ + +CHORUS. +New trouble, strange trouble, deep laden with doom, I 1 +From the sight-bereft stranger seems dimly to loom! + Or peers Fate through the gloom? +She will move toward her mark or through shining or shade; +Since no purpose of Gods ever idly was made. +Time sees the fulfilment, who lifteth to-day +What was lowly, and trampleth the lofty to clay. + Thunder! Heavens! what a sound! + +OED. My children! Would but some one in the place +Haste hither Theseus, noblest among men! + +ANT. Wherefore, my father? What is thy desire? + +OED. These winged thunders of the Highest will soon +Bear me away to the Unseen. Send quickly! + +CHORUS. +Again, yonder crash through the fire-startled air I 2 +Wing'd from Zeus, rushes down, till my thin locks of hair, + Stiff with fear, upward stare. +My soul shrinks and cowers, for yon gleam from on high +Darts again! Ne'er in vain hath it leapt from the sky, +But flies forth amain to what task Zeus hath given. +I fear the unknown fatal edict of Heaven! + Lightning glares all around! + +OED. My daughters, the divinely promised end +Here unavoidably descends on me. + +ANT. How dost thou know it? By what certain sign? + +OED. I know it perfectly. Let some one go +With speed to bring the lord of Athens hither. + +CHORUS. +Great Heaven, how above me, beside me, around, II 1 + Peals redoubled the soul-thrilling sound! +O our God, to this land, to our mother, if aught +Thou wouldst send with some darkness of destiny fraught, +Smile gently once more! With the good let me bear + What of fortune soe'er,-- +Taste no cup, touch no food, the doomed sinner may share. + Zeus, to thee, Lord, I cry! + +OED. Is the King coming? Will he find me alive, +My daughters, and with reason undisturbed? + +ANT. Say wherefore dost thou crave with such desire +The clearness of an undistracted mind? + +OED. I would fully render from a grateful soul +The boon I promised, when I gained my suit. + +CHORUS (_looking towards Athens_). +Come, my chief! come with speed! Or, if haply at hand, II 2 + On the height where the curved altars stand, +Thou art hallowing with oxen in sacrifice slain +Yonder shrine of Poseidon, dread lord of the main, +Hie thee hither! Be swift! The blind stranger intends + To thee, to thy friends, +To thy city, for burdens imposed, just amends. + Haste thee, King! Hear our cry! + +_Enter_ THESEUS. + +THE. Why sounds again from hence your joint appeal, +Wherein the stranger's voice is loudly heard? +Is it some lightning-bolt new-fallen from Zeus, +Or cloud-born hail that is come rattling down? +From Heavens so black with storm nought can surprise. + +OED. Prince, thou art come to my desire. Some God +Hath happily directed this thy way. + +THE. What is befallen? Son of Laius, tell! + +OED. My path slopes downward, and before my death +I would confirm to Athens and to thee +My promised boon. + +THE. What sign dost thou perceive +That proves thine end so near? + +OED. The Gods themselves +With herald voices are proclaiming it, +Nought failing of the fore-appointed signs. + +THE. What are these tokens, aged monarch, say? + +OED. The loud continual thunder, and the darts +That flash in volleys from the unconquered hand. + +THE. I may not doubt thee; for thy speech, I feel, +Hath ample witness of prophetic power. +What must I do? + +OED. I will instruct thee now, +Aegeus' great son! in rites that shall remain +An ageless treasure to thy countrymen. +I will presently, with no man guiding me, +Conduct thee to the spot, where I must die. +This is thy secret, not to be revealed +To any one of men, or where 'tis hid +Or whereabout it lies. So through all time +This neighbouring[3] mound shall yield thee mightier aid +Than many a shield and help of alien spears. +More shalt thou learn, too sacred to divulge, +When yonder thou art come thyself alone. +Since to none other of these citizens +Nor even unto the children of my love +May I disclose it. 'Tis for thee to keep +Inviolate while thou livest, and when thy days +Have ending, breathe it to the foremost man +Alone, and he in turn unto the next +Successively. So shalt thou ever hold +Athens unravaged by the dragon brood[4]. +Cities are numberless, and any one +May lightly insult even those who dwell secure. +For the eye of Heaven though late yet surely sees +When, casting off respect, men turn to crime. +Erechtheus' heir! let that be far from thee! +A warning needless to a man so wise! +Now go we--for this leading of the God +Is urgent--to the place, nor loiter more. +This way, my children! follow me! For I +Am now your guide, as ye were mine. Come on! +Nay, touch me not, but leave me of myself +To find the holy sepulchre, wherein +This form must rest beneath Athenian soil. +Come this way! Come! This way are leading me +Guide Hermes and the Queen of realms below. +O Light, all dark to me! In former time +Bright seemed thy shining! Now thy latest ray +Sheds vital influence o'er this frame. I go +To hide the close of my disastrous life +With Hades. Kind Athenian friend, farewell! +May'st thou, thy followers, and this glorious land +Be happy, and in your endless happiness +Remember him who blessed you in his death. [_Exeunt_ + +CHORUS. +Prince of the Powers Unseen, 1 + Durst we with prayers adore +Thee and thy viewless Queen, + Your aid, Aidôneus, would our lips implore! +By no harsh-sounding doom + Let him we love descend, + With calm and cloudless end, + In deep Plutonian dwelling evermore +To abide among the people of the tomb! +Long worn with many an undeservèd woe, +Just Gods will give thee glory there below. + +Dread Forms, who haunt this floor, 2 + And thou, the Unconquered Beast, + That hugely liest at rest +By the dim shining adamantine door, +--Still from thy cavernous lair + Gnarling, so legends tell, + A tameless guard of Hell,-- +Mayest thou this once thy vigilance forbear, +And leave large room for him now entering there. +Hear us, great Son of Darkness and the Deep; +On thee we call, God of the dreamless sleep! + +_Enter_ Messenger. + +MESS. Athenian citizens, my briefest tale +Were to say singly, Oedipus is gone; +But to describe the scene enacted yonder +Craves no brief speech, nor was the action brief. + +CH. Then he is gone! Poor man! + +MESS. Know it once for all, +He hath left eternally the light of day. + +CH. Poor soul! What? Ended he with peace divine? + +MESS. Ay, there is the main marvel. How he moved +From hence, thou knowest, for thou too wert here, +And saw'st that of his friends none guided him, +But he they loved was leader to them all. +Now, when he came to the steep pavement, rooted +With adamant foundation deep in Earth, +On one of many paths he took his stand +Near the stone basin, where Peirithoüs +And Theseus graved their everlasting league. +There, opposite the mass of Laurian ore, +Turned from the hollow pear-tree and the tomb +Of marble, he sate down, and straight undid +His travel-soiled attire, then called aloud +On both his children, and bade some one fetch +Pure water from a running stream. And they, +Hasting together to the neighbouring hill +Of green Demeter, goddess of the Spring, +Brought back their sire's commission speedily, +And bathed, and clothed him with the sacred robe. +When he was satisfied, and nothing now +Remained undone of all he bade them do, +The God of darkness thundered, and the maids +Stood horror-stricken on hearing; then together +Fell at their father's knees and wept and wailed +Loudly and long with beating of the breast. +He, when that sound of sorrow pierced his ear, +Caressed them in his arms and said:--'My daughters, +From this day forth you have no more a father. +All that was mine is ended, and no longer +Shall ye continue your hard ministry +Of labour for my life.--And yet, though hard, +Not unendurable, since all the toil +Was rendered light through love, which ye can never +Receive on earth so richly, as from him +Bereaved of whom ye now shall live forlorn.' +Such was the talk, mingled with sobs and crying, +As each clung fast to each. But when they came +To an end of weeping and those sounds were stilled, +First all was silent; then a sudden voice +Hurried him onward, making each man's hair +Bristle on end with force of instant fear. +Now here, now there, not once but oftentimes, +A God called loudly, 'Oedipus, Oedipus! +Why thus delay our going? This long while +We are stayed for and thou tarriest. Come away!' +He, when he knew the summons of the God, +Gave word for royal Theseus to go near; +And when he came, said: 'Friend for ever kind, +Reach thy right hand, I pray thee (that first pledge) +To these my children:--daughters, yours to him!-- +And give thy sacred word that thou wilt never +Betray these willingly: but still perform +All that thou mayest with true thought for their good.' +He, with grand calmness like his noble self, +Promised on oath to keep this friendly bond. +And when he had done so, Oedipus forthwith +Stroking his children with his helpless hands +Spake thus:--'My daughters, you must steel your hearts +To noble firmness, and depart from hence, +Nor ask to see or hear forbidden things. +Go, go at once! Theseus alone must stay +Sole rightful witness of these mysteries.' +Those accents were the last we all might hear. +Then, following the two maids, with checkless tears +And groans we took our way. But by and by, +At distance looking round, we saw,--not him, +Who was not there,--but Theseus all alone +Holding his hand before his eyes, as if +Some apparition unendurable +Had dazed his vision. In a little while, +We marked him making reverence in one prayer +To the Earth, and to the home of Gods on high. +But by what fate He perished, mortal man, +Save Theseus, none can say. No lightning-flash +From heaven, no tempest rising from the deep, +Caused his departure in that hour, but either +Some messenger from heaven, or, from beneath, +The lower part of Earth, where comes no pain, +Opening kindly to receive him in. +Not to be mourned, nor with a tearful end +Of sickness was he taken from the Earth, +But wondrously, beyond recorded fate. +If any deem my words unwise, I care not +In that man's judgement to be counted wise. + +CH. Where are those maidens and their escort? Say. + +MESS. They are not far off, but here. The voice of weeping +Betokens all too plainly their approach. + +ANT. Alas! +How manifold, the inheritance of woe +Drawn from the troubled fountain of our birth! +Indelible, ineradicable grief! +For him erewhile +We had labour infinite and unrelieved, +And now in his last hour we have to tell +Of sights and sorrows beyond thought. + +CH. How then? + +ANT. Friends, ye might understand. + +CH. Speak. Is he gone? + +ANT. Gone! Even as heart could wish, had wishes power. +How else, when neither war, nor the wide sea +Encountered him, but viewless realms enwrapt him, +Wafted away to some mysterious doom? +Whence on our hearts a horror of night is fallen. +Woe 's me! For whither wandering shall we find +Hard livelihood, by land or over sea? + +ISM. I know not. Let dark Hades take me off +To lie in death with mine age honoured sire! +Death were far better than my life to be. + +CH. Noblest of maidens, ye must learn to bear +Meekly the sending of the Gods. Be not +On fire with grief. Your state is well assured. + +ANT. If to be thus is well, then may one long +For evil to return. Things nowise dear +Were dear to me, whiles I had him to embrace. +O father! loved one! that art wearing now +The eternal robe of darkness underground, +Old as thou wert, think not this maid and I +Will cease from loving thee! + +CH. He met his doom. + +ANT. He met the doom he longed for. + +CH. How was that? + +ANT. In the strange land where he desired to die +He died. He rests in shadow undisturbed; +Nor hath he left a tearless funeral. +For these mine eyes, father, unceasingly +Mourn thee with weeping, nor can I subdue +This ever-mounting sorrow for thy loss. +Ah me! Would thou hadst not desired to die +Here among strangers, but alone with thee +There, in the desert, I had seen thee die! + +ISM. Unhappy me! What destiny, dear girl, +Awaits us both, bereaved and fatherless? + +CH. His end was fortunate. He rests in peace. +Dear maidens, then desist from your complaint. +Sorrow is swift to overtake us all. + +ANT. Thither again, dear girl, let us go speedily! + +ISM. Say, for what end? + +ANT. Desire possesses me-- + +ISM. Whereof? + +ANT. To see the darksome dwelling-place-- + +ISM. Of whom? + +ANT. Woe is me! Of him, our sire! + +ISM. But how +Can this be lawful? Seest thou not? + +ANT. How say'st thou? +Why this remonstrance? + +ISM. Seest thou not, again, +He hath no grave and no man buried him. + +ANT. Take me but where he lies. Then slay me there. + +ISM. Ah! woe is me, doubly unfortunate, +Forlorn and destitute, whither henceforth +For wretched comfort must we go? + +CH. Fear nought, +Dear maidens! + +ISM. Where shall we find refuge? + +CH. Here, +Long since, your refuge is secure. + +ANT. How so? + +CH. No harm shall touch you. + +ANT. I know that. + +CH. What then +Further engrosseth thee? + +ANT. How to get home +I know not. + +CH. Seek not for it. + +ANT. Weariness +O'erweighs me. + +CH. Hath it not before oppressed thee? + +ANT. Before, it vexed me; now it overwhelms. + +CH. A mighty sea of misery is your lot. + +ANT. Woe is me! O Zeus! And whither must we go? +Unto what doom doth my Fate drive me now? + +CH. Children, lament no longer. 'Tis not well +To mourn 'mongst those with whom the honoured dead +Hath left the heirloom of his benison. + +_Enter_ THESEUS. + +ANT. Theseus, behold us falling at thy feet. + +THE. What boon, my children, are ye bent to obtain? + +ANT. Our eyes would see our father's burial-place. + +THE. 'Tis not permitted to go near that spot. + +ANT. O Athens' sovereign lord, what hast thou said? + +THE. Dear children, 'twas your father's spoken will +That no man should approach his resting-place, +Nor human voice should ever violate +The mystery of the tomb wherein he lies. +He promised, if I truly kept this word, +My land would evermore be free from harm. +The power which no man may transgress and live, +The oath of Zeus, bore witness to our troth. + +ANT. His wishes are enough. Then, pray thee, send +An escort to convey us to our home, +Primeval Thebes, if so we may prevent +The death that menaces our brethren there. + +THE. That will I; and in all that I may do +To prosper you and solace him beneath,-- +Who even now passes to eternity,-- +I must not falter. Come, lament no more. +His destiny hath found a perfect end. + + * * * * * + + + + + NOTES + + + SOME PROPER NAMES + +AIDONEUS, Hades or Pluto. +ARES, The War-God, a destructive Power. +DEO, Demeter. +ERINYES, the Furies. +HELIOS, The Sun-God. +RHEA, the Mother of the Gods. +THEBE, the town of Thebes personified. + + + ANTIGONE. + +1 P. 6, l. 126. _The serpent._ The dragon, the emblem of Thebes. + +2 l. 130. _Idly caparisoned._ Reading [Greek: huperopliais]. + +3 P. 7, l. 140. _Self-harnessed helper._ An allusion to the [Greek: + seiraphoros], or side trace-horse, in a chariot-race. + +4 P. 13, l. 342. _Children of the steed._ Mules are so-called by + Homer. + +5 P. 30, l. 955. _Dryas' hasty son._ Lycurgus. See Homer, _Iliad_, vi. + +6 l. 971. _Phineus' two sons._ Idothea, the second wife of Phineus, + persecuted his two sons by Cleopatra, a daughter of Boreas, whom he + had repudiated and immured. The Argonauts saw them in the condition + here described. + +7 P. 34, l. 1120. _The all-gathering bosom wide._ The plain of + Eleusis, where mysteries were held in honour of Dêo or Demeter. + +8 P. 39, l. 1301. Reading [Greek: *oxuthêktô ... peri*xiphei]. + +9 l. 1303. _The glorious bed of buried Megareus._ Megareus, son of + Creon and Eurydice, sacrificed himself for Thebes by falling into a + deep cave called the Dragon's Lair. + + + AIAS. + +1 P. 48, l. 172. _Her blood-stained temple._ In some of her temples + Artemis was worshipped with sacrifices of bulls, and, according to + an old tradition, also with human sacrifices. + +2 P. 49. l. 190. _The brood of Sisyphus._ Amongst his enemies, + Odysseus was reputed to be the offspring of Sisyphus and not of + Laertes. + +3 P. 59, l. 574. _Named of the shield._ Eurysakes means Broadshield. + +4 P. 71, l. 1011. _Who smiles no more._ Compare a fragment of the + _Teucer_ of Sophocles (519, Nauck), + + 'How vain then, O my son, + How vain was my delight in thy proud fame, + While I supposed thee living! The fell Fury + From her dark shroud beguiled me with sweet lies.' + + + KING OEDIPUS. + +1 P. 86, l. 36. _That stern songstress._ The Sphinx. See also + 'minstrel hound.' + +2 P. 96, l. 402. _Will hunt | Pollution forth._ The party cry of + 'driving out the pollution' was raised against the Alcmaeonidae and + other families in Athens, who were supposed to lie under a + traditional curse. + +3 P. 99. l. 525. _Who durst declare it._ [Greek: Tou pros d' + ephanthê]. Though the emphatic order of words is unusual, this seems + more forcible than the var. [Greek: toupos d' ephanthe]. + +4 P. 102, l. 625. [CR. _You'll ne'er relent nor listen to my plea._] A + line has here been lost in the original. + +5 P. 113, l. 1025. _Your purchase or your child?_ Oedipus is not to be + supposed to have weighed the import of the Corinthian shepherd's + words, 'Nor I nor he,' &c., _supra_. + +6 P. 128. l. 1526. _His envied fortune mounted beaming._ Reading + [Greek: en zêlô politôn] (with 2 MSS) and [Greek: epiphlegôn] from + my conjecture. + + + ELECTRA. + +1 P. 131, l. 6. _The wolf-slaying God._ Apollo Lyceius, from _Lycos_, + a wolf. + +2 P. 140, l. 363. _Ne'er be it mine,_ &c. Reading [Greek: toume mê + *lupoun monon | boskêma]. + +3 P. 143, l. 451. _That lingers on my brow._ A somewhat forced + interpretation of [Greek: tênde liparê tricha]. Possibly [Greek: + tênd' alamprunton tricha]: 'And this--unkempt and poor--yet give it + to him.' + +4 P. 144, l. 504. _Chariot course of Pelops, full of toil._ Pelops won + his bride Hippodameia by bribing Myrtilus, his charioteer; whom, in + order to conceal his fault, he flung into the sea. + +5 P. 150, l. 722. _That pulled the side-rope._ See on Ant., p. 7, l. + 140. + +6 l. 151. _In letting loose again the left-hand rein._ The near + horse (see above) knows his business, and, when the slackening of + the rein shows that the goal is cleared, makes eagerly for the + direct downward course. But if he is let go an instant too soon, he + brings the car into contact with the stone. + +7 l. 746. _Caught in the reins._ In an ancient chariot-race, the + reins were often passed round the body of the charioteer, so as to + give more purchase. See this described in the _Hippolytus_ of + Euripides. + +8 P. 154, l. 837. _One in a woman's toils | was tangled._ Amphiaraus, + betrayed by Eriphyle for a necklace. + +9 P. 160, l. 1085. _Through homeless misery._ I read [Greek: aiôn' + aoikon] for [Greek: aiôna koinon] of the MSS. + +10 l. 1086. _Purging the sin and shame._ I read [Greek: kathagnisasa] + for the impossible [Greek: kathoplisasa]. + +11 P. 172, l. 1478. _Thou hast been taking,_ &c. Otherwise, reading + with the MSS [Greek: zôn tois thanousin ounek' antaudas isa], _At + point to die, thou art talking with the dead._ + + + TRACHINIAN MAIDENS. + +1 P. 180, l. 104. _Bride of battle-wooing._ 'Dêanira' signifies 'Cause + of strife to heroes.' + +2 P. 185, l. 303. _Ne'er may I see thee._ The Spartan captives from + Pylos had lately been at Athens, and some of them were reputed + descendants of Hyllus, the son of Dêanira. + +3 P. 195, l. 654. _Frees him for ever._ His last contest brings his + final deliverance. + +4 P. 201, l. 860. _From Love's dread minister,_ i.e. from Aphrodite, + working through the concealed and silent Iole. + + + PHILOCTETES. + +1 P. 222, l. 194. _Through Chrysa's cruel sting._ Chrysa was an island + near the Troad, sacred to a goddess of the name. Her precinct was + guarded by a serpent, whose bite, from which Philoctetes suffered, + was incurable. See below p. 254, l. 1327. + +2 P. 226, l. 344. _The fosterer of my sire._ Phoenix, the tutor of + Achilles. + +3 P. 227, l. 351. _For I ne'er | Had seen him._ The legend which makes + Achilles go to Troy from Scyros is probably ignored. + +4 l. 384. _Vile offset of an evil tree._ Alluding to the supposed + birth of Odysseus. See on Ai., l. 190, p. 60 [sic. should be p. 49]. + +5 P. 230, l. 489. _Of old Chalcodon._ One of the former generation, a + friend and neighbour of Poeas the father of Philoctetes. + +6 P. 237, l. 729. _Of him, whose home is in the skies._ Heracles, + imagined as transfigured on Mount Oeta. + +7 P. 254, l. 1328. _The sky-roofed fold._ The open precinct that was + sacred to the goddess, merely surrounded by a wall. See above, note + on p. 222, l. 194. + +8 P. 255, l. 1333. _Phoebus' child._ Asclepius. + + + OEDIPUS AT COLONOS. + +1 P. 265, l. 158. _Mingles with draughts,_ &c. Where libations are + mixed of water and honey. + +2 P. 288, l. 888. _The God._ Poseidon. See above, p. 282 [sic. should + be p. 262], l. 55. + +3 P. 306, l. 1525. _neighbouring._ [Greek: geitonôn] (the participle). + +4 l. 1534. _The dragon-brood._ The Cadmeian race at Thebes, sprung + from the dragon's teeth sown by Cadmus. + + +N.B.--For other questionable points the student is referred to the +small edition of _Sophocles_, by Campbell and Abbott (2 vols., +Clarendon Press, 1900). + + +Oxford: HORACE HART, Printer to the University. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Seven Plays in English Verse, by Sophocles + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SEVEN PLAYS IN ENGLISH VERSE *** + +***** This file should be named 14484-8.txt or 14484-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/4/4/8/14484/ + +Produced by Ted Garvin, Fred Robinson and the PG Online Distributed +Proofreading Team + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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