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diff --git a/77336-0.txt b/77336-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8841920 --- /dev/null +++ b/77336-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,15839 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77336 *** + + + + +[Illustration: MORLEY’S UNIVERSAL LIBRARY] + + Ballantyne Press + BALLANTYNE, HANSON AND CO. + LONDON AND EDINBURGH + + + + + HECUBA + + _AND OTHER PLAYS_ + + BY + EURIPIDES + + TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH VERSE BY + MICHAEL WODHULL + + _WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY HENRY MORLEY_ + LL.D., PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH LITERATURE AT + UNIVERSITY COLLEGE, LONDON + + LONDON + GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS + BROADWAY, LUDGATE HILL + GLASGOW AND NEW YORK + 1888 + + PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE, HANSON AND CO. + LONDON AND EDINBURGH + + + + +MORLEY’S UNIVERSAL LIBRARY. + + + 1. _Sheridan’s Plays._ + 2. _Plays from Molière._ By English Dramatists. + 3. _Marlowe’s Faustus_ and _Goethe’s Faust_. + 4. _Chronicle of the Cid._ + 5. _Rabelais’ Gargantua_ and the _Heroic Deeds of Pantagruel_. + 6. _Machiavelli’s Prince._ + 7. _Bacon’s Essays._ + 8. _Defoe’s Journal of the Plague Year._ + 9. _Locke on Civil Government and Filmer’s “Patriarcha.”_ + 10. _Butler’s Analogy of Religion._ + 11. _Dryden’s Virgil._ + 12. _Scott’s Demonology and Witchcraft._ + 13. _Herrick’s Hesperides._ + 14. _Coleridge’s Table-Talk._ + 15. _Boccaccio’s Decameron._ + 16. _Sterne’s Tristram Shandy._ + 17. _Chapman’s Homer’s Iliad._ + 18. _Mediæval Tales._ + 19. _Voltaire’s Candide_, and _Johnson’s Rasselas_. + 20. _Jonson’s Plays and Poems._ + 21. _Hobbes’s Leviathan._ + 22. _Samuel Butler’s Hudibras._ + 23. _Ideal Commonwealths._ + 24. _Cavendish’s Life of Wolsey._ + 25 & 26. _Don Quixote._ + 27. _Burlesque Plays and Poems._ + 28. _Dante’s Divine Comedy._ LONGFELLOW’S Translation. + 29. _Goldsmith’s Vicar of Wakefield, Plays, and Poems._ + 30. _Fables and Proverbs from the Sanskrit._ (_Hitopadesa._) + 31. _Lamb’s Essays of Elia._ + 32. _The History of Thomas Ellwood._ + 33. _Emerson’s Essays, &c._ + 34. _Southey’s Life of Nelson._ + 35. _De Quincey’s Confessions of an Opium-Eater, &c._ + 36. _Stories of Ireland._ By Miss EDGEWORTH. + 37. _Frere’s Aristophanes: Acharnians, Knights, Birds._ + 38. _Burke’s Speeches and Letters._ + 39. _Thomas à Kempis._ + 40. _Popular Songs of Ireland._ + 41. _Potter’s Æschylus._ + 42. _Goethe’s Faust: Part II._ ANSTER’S Translation. + 43. _Famous Pamphlets._ + 44. _Francklin’s Sophocles._ + 45. _M. G. Lewis’s Tales of Terror and Wonder._ + 46. _Vestiges of the Natural History of Creation._ + 47. _Drayton’s Barons’ Wars, Nymphidia, &c._ + 48. _Cobbett’s Advice to Young Men._ + 49. _The Banquet of Dante._ + 50. _Walker’s Original._ + 51. _Schiller’s Poems and Ballads._ + 52. _Peele’s Plays and Poems._ + 53. _Harrington’s Oceana._ + 54. _Euripides: Alcestis and other Plays._ + 55. _Praed’s Essays._ + 56. _Traditional Tales._ ALLAN CUNNINGHAM. + 57. _Hooker’s Ecclesiastical Polity. Books I.-IV._ + 58. _Euripides: The Bacchanals and other Plays._ + 59. _Izaak Walton’s Lives._ + 60. _Aristotle’s Politics._ + 61. _Euripides: Hecuba and other Plays._ + +“Marvels of clear type and general neatness.”—_Daily Telegraph._ + + + + +INTRODUCTION. + + +We left the history of the House of Tantalus with a reference to Helen, +as we find her in the translated play which is among those which here +complete the collection of the extant works of Euripides. + +Menelaus sent ambassadors to Troy to demand back Helen, his wife, whom +Paris had carried off. The counsels of Antenor were set aside at Troy, +by the persuasions of Paris that gave occasion to the Siege of Troy. +Agamemnon, on the throne of the deposed Thyestes, had extended his +dominion. Homer gave him command over a hundred ships in the expedition +against Troy. Some were from Mycene, which although but six or seven +miles from Argos had been capital of a separate kingdom until it was +reunited to Argos after the defeat and death of Eurystheus; and when +Agamemnon succeeded his father Atreus, he enlarged and beautified Mycene. +Twenty-eight unsuccessful suitors of Helen were summoned by Menelaus to +contribute aid, and under command of the strongest of the confederates, +Agamemnon—who was the brother of Menelaus, and who then had by his wife +Clytemnestra three daughters, Iphigenia, Chrysothemis, and Electra, also +one son, Orestes, then an infant—the expedition sailed for Troy. + +But first, when the confederate fleets met as agreed, in the haven of +Aulis they were stayed by a dead calm. Guidance was sought from the +Oracle, and the soothsayer Calchas reminded Agamemnon of a vow made in +the year of Iphigenia’s birth that he would sacrifice to Diana the most +beautiful production of the year. That was his daughter, Iphigenia, +whom now Diana claimed. The fleet would remain bound in Aulis until +the sacrifice of Iphigenia. The story of the sacrifice, of the anger +of the maiden’s mother Clytemnestra, and her lover Achilles, is told +by Euripides in his “Iphigenia in Aulis.” The Goddess in the act of +sacrifice miraculously substituted a hind for the daughter, whom she +wafted in a cloud to her temple among the Scythians at Tauris, where she +became a Priestess, and where it was the custom of the barbarous people +to sacrifice every Greek who landed on their shores. + +In the siege of Troy, Paris was slain by the arrows of Philoctetes. Helen +then married his brother Deiphobus, whom she betrayed to the Greeks. When +she came again into the hands of Menelaus, he was soon reconciled to her. +In returning from the ten years’ siege of Troy, many of the companions +of Agamemnon were lost by wreck on the coast of Eubœa, where the father +of Palamedes, to avenge the unjust killing of his son in the camp of the +Greeks, had set up false lights. Agamemnon came safely to Argos with the +captive prophetess Cassandra, whom he intended for himself. This was +a new affront to Clytemnestra; who remembered the murder of her first +husband Tantalus and her first infant, who remembered also the sacrifice +of Iphigenia, and who had found a paramour in Ægisthus, son of Thyestes. +Clytemnestra murdered Agamemnon with an axe as he was coming out of the +bath, and then married Ægisthus, who took Agamemnon’s throne. + +The young Orestes was saved from his stepfather by a faithful servant, +who carried him to Phocis, and there put him under the protection of +Strophius. Electra remained at Argos and was married to a peasant, lest a +husband powerful in the State should help to restore to their birthrights +the children of Agamemnon. + +When Orestes had passed out of childhood, he went for guidance to the +Oracle of Apollo at Delphi, and was directed to avenge the murder of his +father. He went then, with his inseparable friend Pylades, in disguise to +Argos, and was received in a cottage on the boundary of Argos, by Electra +and her peasant husband. He learnt that the peasant, strongly attached to +the family of Agamemnon, had cancelled the wrong intended by Ægisthus, +and had never claimed rights of a husband. Electra was still a maiden +princess. Brother and sister then devised and carried out a plan for the +killing of their mother Clytemnestra and Ægisthus. + +But when the hands of Orestes were stained with his mother’s blood, the +Furies rose from Hell, and drove him to distraction. Six days after the +murder of Clytemnestra, the citizens of Argos met to pass sentence on +Orestes and Electra. Menelaus after a voyage from Troy of seven years’ +long delays, then landed at Nauplia near Argos, and would have helped +his nephew Orestes; but he gave up Orestes and Electra to the people of +Argos upon being told by Tyndarus that if he interfered he should never +return to Sparta. The Council of Argos gave leave to Orestes and Electra +to carry out upon themselves its sentence of death. After consulting with +Pylades they resolved to kill Helen and seize their uncle’s one daughter, +Hermione, as hostage. Helen had vanished; Menelaus breathed revenge; +Apollo descended to save Orestes from his uncle, and from the people, by +declaring that Orestes had done what the gods required. But Apollo bade +him cleanse away pollution of his mother’s blood by a year’s banishment, +after which he was to submit himself to the judgment of the Areopagus at +Athens. + +Before the Areopagus one of the Furies was his accuser, Apollo witnessed +in his favour. The votes of the Court were equal, and Athené gave the +casting vote for his acquittal. But still the Furies were implacable, +and Orestes, again appealing to Apollo’s Oracle, was ordered to bring +the statue of Diana from Tauris to Athens. Orestes sailed upon this +mission with Pylades, whom he had affianced to his sister Electra. When +the friends landed on the coast of Tauris, the barbarous people seized +them and they were carried to Iphigenia to be sacrificed according to +the custom of the land. When on the point of being sacrificed, discovery +was made, and, with help of Minerva, not only the image of the goddess +Diana, but also Iphigenia her priestess, was conveyed to Athens, in whose +territories, at Brauronia, Iphigenia remained priestess until her death. + +Meanwhile Menelaus had married his only daughter, Hermione, to +Neoptolemus, the son of Achilles. Neoptolemus, who had offended Apollo +by making the god answerable for the death of Achilles, went to Delphi +to appease his wrath. Orestes, who sought Hermione for wife, went also +to Delphi and persuaded the people there that Neoptolemus sought plunder +of the temple. Neoptolemus was, therefore, murdered by the people of +Delphi, as he was going unarmed to the temple to propitiate the god. Then +Orestes carried off Hermione, and married her, at the same time when his +sister Electra was married to Pylades. The plays of Euripides here leave +Orestes; ruler on the throne of Agamemnon, reconciled to Menelaus, and +married to Hermione, through whom, by right of her mother Helen and her +father Menelaus, he may hope to bring also under his rule the dominions +of Sparta. + +Here ends an abstract of an abstract of the History of the House of +Tantalus, as given by Michael Wodhull, Esq., to show the relations to +each other of the stories upon which Euripides based many of his plays. + +This volume completes our set of English versions of all extant plays of +Euripides. + + H. M. + +_April 1888_ + + + + +TO THE READERS OF THE UNIVERSAL LIBRARY. + + +The next volume of this Library, published in May 1888, will complete our +household edition of Rabelais with the Sequel to Pantagruel. This will +be followed in June by “A Miscellany” of short works of special interest +taken from different periods of English life. The sixty-three volumes of +the Universal Library, re-arranged in historical order, will then form +a completed series, and the supply of standard literature in shilling +monthly volumes will be left to other editors whose good work in this +direction has been called into existence by the success of the Universal +Library, which on its first appearance broke new ground. + +The work done in these volumes will be continued, without change of aim, +in a new series that has been planned to permit issue of large books +without the crowding of type which, in this series, has been now and +then found necessary. In the New Series, there will be a complete change +of form. Substantial and handsome volumes of the best literature will +be published in alternate months at a price that will add not more than +three shillings to the present annual cost of “The Universal Library.” +The name of the new Library will change from the Universal to the +Particular. Its books may be named from their _habitat_, and they will +usually be edited where the eye raised from the paper and ink rests upon +Carisbrooke Castle. + + THE FIRST VOLUME OF + Morley’s Carisbrooke Library + _Will be published on the First of October, 1888_. + + H. M. + + + + +EURIPIDES. + + + + +HECUBA. + + +PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. + + POLYDORE’S GHOST. + HECUBA. + CHORUS OF CAPTIVE TROJAN DAMES. + POLYXENA. + ULYSSES. + FEMALE ATTENDANT OF HECUBA. + AGAMEMNON. + POLYMESTOR. + TALTHYBIUS. + + +SCENE.—THE THRACIAN CHERSONESUS. + +THE GHOST OF POLYDORE. + + Leaving the cavern of the dead, and gates + Of darkness, where from all the gods apart + Dwells Pluto, come I Polydore, the son + Of Hecuba from royal Cisseus sprung, + And Priam, who, when danger threatened Troy, + Fearing his city by the Grecian arms + Would be laid low in dust, from Phrygia’s realm + In privacy conveyed me to the house + Of Polymestor, of his Thracian friend, + Who tills the Chersonesus’ fruitful soil, + Ruling a nation famed for generous steeds; + But secretly, with me, abundant gold + My father sent, that his surviving children + Might lack no sustenance, if Ilion’s walls + Should by the foe be levelled with the ground. + I was the youngest of all Priam’s sons, + By stealth he therefore sent me from the realm; + Nor could my feeble arm sustain the shield, + Or launch the javelin; but while yet entire + Each ancient landmark on our frontiers stood, + The turrets of the Phrygian state remained + Unshaken, and my brother Hector’s spear + Prospered in battle; nurtured by the man + Of Thrace, my father’s friend, I, wretched youth, + Grew like a vigorous scion. But when Troy, + When Hector failed, when my paternal dome + Was from its basis rent, and Priam’s self, + My aged father, at the altar bled + Which to the gods his pious hands had reared, + Butchered by curst Achilles’ ruthless son; + Me, his unhappy guest, my father’s friend + Slew for the sake of gold, and having slain, + Plunged me into the sea, that he might keep + Those treasures in his house. My breathless corse, + In various eddies by the rising waves + Of ocean tost, lies on the craggy shore, + Unwept, unburied. But by filial love + For Hecuba now prompted, I ascend + A disembodied ghost, and thrice have seen + The morning dawn, to Chersonesus land, + Since my unhappy mother came from Troy. + But all the Grecian army, in their ships, + Here anchoring on this coast of Thrace remain + Inactive; for appearing on his tomb + Achilles, Peleus’ son, restrained the troops, + Who homeward else had steered their barks, and claims + Polyxena my sister, as a victim + Most precious at his sepulchre to bleed; + And her will he obtain, nor will his friends + Withhold the gift; for fate this day decrees + That she shall die: my mother must behold + Two of her slaughtered children’s corses, mine, + And this unhappy maid’s—that in a tomb + I may be lodged, where the firm beach resists + The waves, I to her servant will appear, + Since from the powers of hell I have obtained + The privilege of honourable interment, + And that a mother’s hand these rites perform: + I shall accomplish what my soul desired. + But on the aged Hecuba’s approach, + Far hence must I retreat; for from the tent + Of Agamemnon she comes forth, alarmed + By my pale spectre. O my wretched mother, + How art thou torn from princely roofs to view + This hour of servitude! what sad reverse + Of fortune! some malignant god hath balanced + Thy present misery ’gainst thy former bliss. + + [_Exit._ + +HECUBA, _attended by_ TROJAN DAMSELS. + + HEC. Forth from these doors, ye gentle virgins, lead me, + A weak old woman: O ye nymphs of Troy, + Support your fellow-servant, once your queen + Bear me along, uphold my tottering frame, + And take me by this aged hand; your arm + Shall be my staff to lean on, while I strive + My tardy pace to quicken. O ye lightnings + Of Jove, O Night in tenfold darkness wrapt, + By such terrific phantoms from my couch + Why am I scared? Thou venerable earth, + Parent of dreams that flit on raven wing; + The vision I abhor, which I in sleep + This night have seen, relating to my son, + Who here is fostered in the Thracian realm, + And to Polyxena my dearest daughter; + For I too clearly saw and understood + The meaning of that dreadful apparition; + Ye tutelary gods of this domain, + Preserve the only anchor of our house, + My son, who dwells in Thracian fields, o’erspread + With snow, protected by his father’s friend. + Some fresh event awaits us, and ere long + By accents most unwelcome shall the ear + Of wretchedness be wounded: till this hour, + By such incessant horrors, such alarms, + My soul was never seized. Where shall I view + The soul of Helenus, on whom the god + Bestowed prophetic gifts, ye Phrygian maids? + Where my Cassandra to unfold the dream? + With bloody fangs I saw a wolf, who slew + A dappled hind, which forcibly he tore + From these reluctant arms, and what increased + My fears, was this—Achilles’ spectre stalked + Upon the summit of his tomb, and claimed + A gift, some miserable Trojan captive. + You therefore I implore, ye gods, avert + Such doom from my loved daughter. + +CHORUS, HECUBA. + + CHOR. I to thee, + To thee, O Hecuba, with breathless speed, + Fly from the tents of our imperious lords, + Where I by lot have been assigned, and doomed + To be a slave, driven by the pointed spear + From Troy; by their victorious arms the Greeks + Have made me captive: nothing can I bring, + Thy sorrows to alleviate; but to thee + Laden with heaviest tidings am I come + The herald of affliction. For ’tis said, + Greece in full council hath resolved thy daughter + A victim to Achilles shall be given. + The warrior mounting on his tomb, thou know’st, + Appeared in golden armour, and restrained + The fleet just ready to unfurl its sails, + Exclaiming, “Whither would ye steer your course, + Ye Greeks, and leave no offering on my grave?” + A storm of violent contention rose, + And two opinions in the martial synod + Of Greece went forth; the victim, some maintained, + Ought on the sepulchre to bleed, and some + Such offering disapproved. But Agamemnon, + Who shares the bed of the Prophetic Dame, + Espoused thy interest; while the sons of Theseus, + Branches from the Athenian root, discussed + The question largely in each point of view, + But in the same opinion both concurred, + And said that never should Cassandra’s love + To great Achilles’ valour be preferred: + Equally balanced the debate still hung, + When he, that crafty orator, endued + With sweetest voice, the favourite of the crowd, + Laertes’ son, persuaded all the host, + Not to reject the first of Grecian chiefs, + And yield the preference to a victim slave: + Lest some vindictive ghost, before the throne + Of Proserpine arising, might relate + How Greece, unmindful of her generous sons, + Who nobly perished for their native land, + From Ilion’s fields departed. In a moment + Ulysses will come hither, from thy breast, + And aged arms to drag the tender maid. + But to the temples, to the altars, go, + In suppliant posture clasp Atrides’ knees, + Invoke the gods of heaven and hell beneath, + For either thou wilt by thy prayers avert + Thy daughter’s fate, else must thou at the tomb + Behold the virgin fall distained with gore, + And gushing from her neck a crimson stream. + + HEC. Wretch that I am! ah me! what clamorous sounds, + What words, what plaints, what dirges shall I find, + Expressive of the anguish which I feel? + Opprest by miserable old age, bowed down + Under a load of servitude too heavy + To be endured: what sanctuary remains, + What valiant race, what city will protect me? + The hoary Priam is no more, my sons + Are now no more. Or to this path, or that, + Shall I direct my steps? or whither go? + Where shall I find some tutelary god? + Ye Phrygian captives, messengers of ill, + O ye who with unwelcome tidings fraught, + Come hither, ye have ruined me. The orb + Of day shall never rise to fill this breast + With any comfort more. Ye luckless feet, + Bear an infirm old woman to the tent + Of our captivity. Come forth, my daughter, + Come forth and listen to thy mother’voice, + That thou may’st know the rumour I have heard, + In which thy life is interested. + +POLYXENA, HECUBA, CHORUS. + + POLYX. O mother, + What mean you by those shrieks? what fresh event + Proclaiming, from my chamber, like a bird, + Have you constrained me, urged by fear, to speed + My flight? + + HEC. Ah, daughter! + + POLYX. With foreboding voice, + Why do you call me? these are evil omens. + + HEC. Alas! thy life, Polyxena. + + POLYX. Speak out, + Nor aggravate the horrors yet untold + By long suspense. I fear, O mother, much + I fear. What mean those oft repeated groans? + + HEC. Thou child of a most miserable mother! + + POLYX. Why speak you thus? + + HEC. The Greeks, with one consent, + Resolve that on the tomb of Peleus’ son + Thou shalt be sacrificed. + + POLYX. What boundless woes + Are these which to your daughter you announce! + Yet, O my mother, with the tale proceed. + + HEC. Of a most horrible report I speak, + Which says, that, by the suffrage of the Greeks, + It is resolved to take away thy life. + + POLYX. O, my unhappy mother, doomed to suffer + Wrongs the most dreadful, doomed to lead a life + Of utter wretchedness: what grievous curse, + Such as no language can express, on you + Hath some malignant demon hurled! no more + Can I, your daughter, share the galling yoke + Of servitude with your forlorn old age; + For like some lion’s whelp, or heifer bred + Upon the mountains, hurried from your arms + Shall you behold me, and with severed head + Consigned to Pluto’s subterraneous realms + Of darkness, there among the silent dead, + Wretch that I am, shall I be laid. These tears + Of bitter lamentation I for you, + For you, O mother, shed; but my own life + I heed not, nor the shame, nor fatal stroke, + For I in death a happier lot obtain. + + CHOR. To thee, O Hecuba, with hasty step + Behold Ulysses some new message brings. + +ULYSSES, HECUBA, POLYXENA, CHORUS. + + ULY. Though I presume the counsels of our troops + And their decision are already known + To thee, O woman, yet must I repeat + Th’ unwelcome tidings; at Achilles’ tomb, + Polyxena, thy daughter, have the Greeks + Resolved to slay; me to attend the virgin + Have they commanded: but Achilles’ son + Is at the altar destined to preside, + And be the priest. Know’st thou thy duty then? + Constrain us not to drag her from those arms + With violence, nor strive with me; but learn + The force of thy inevitable woes: + For there is wisdom, e’en when we are wretched, + In following reason’s dictates. + + HEC. Now, alas! + It seems a dreadful struggle is at hand, + With groans abounding and unnumbered tears. + I died not at the time I ought to die, + Neither did Jove destroy me; he still spares + My life, that I may view fresh woes, yet greater, + Wretch that I am, than all my former woes. + But if a slave, who not with bitter taunt, + Or keen reproach, her questions doth propose, + Might speak to freemen, now ’tis time for you + To cease, and give me audience while I ask—— + + ULY. Allowed, proceed; for I without reluctance + Will grant thee time. + + HEC. Remember you when erst + You came to Troy a spy, in tattered garb + Disguised, and from your eyes upon your beard + Fell tears extorted by the dread of death? + + ULY. I well remember: for by that event + My inmost heart was touched. + + HEC. But Helen knew you, + And told me only. + + ULY. I can ne’er forget + Into what danger I was fallen. + + HEC. My knees + You in a lowly posture did embrace. + + ULY. And to thy garment clung with faltering hand. + + HEC. At length I saved and from our land dismissed you. + + ULY. Hence I the solar beams yet view. + + HEC. What language + Did you then hold, when subject to my power? + + ULY. Full many were the words which I devised + To save my life. + + HEC. Doth not your guilt appear + From your own counsels? Though your tongue avows + The generous treatment you from me received + No benefit on me do you confer, + But strive to harm me. O ungrateful race + Of men, who aim at popular applause + By your smooth speeches; would to Heaven I ne’er + Had known you, for ye heed not how ye wound + Your friends, whene’er ye can say ought to win + The crowd. But what pretence could they devise + For sentencing this virgin to be slain? + Are they constrained by fate, with human victims, + To drench the tomb on which they rather ought + To sacrifice the steer? or doth Achilles + Demand her life with justice, to retaliate + Slaughter on them who slaughtered? But to him + Hath she done nought injurious. He should claim + Helen as victim at his tomb, for she + His ruin caused by leading him to Troy. + If it was needful that some chosen captive + Distinguished by transcendent charms should die, + We were not meant; for the perfidious daughter + Of Tyndarus is most beauteous, and her crimes + To ours at least are equal. Justice only + In this debate supports me: hear how large + The debt which ’tis your duty to repay + On my petition: you confess you touched + My hand, and these my aged cheeks, in dust + Grovelling a suppliant; yours I now embrace, + From you the kindness which I erst bestowed + Again implore, and sue to you: O tear not + My daughter from these arms, nor slay the maid: + Sufficient is the number of the slain. + In her I yet rejoice, in her forget + My woes; she, for the loss of many children, + Consoles me, I in her a country find, + A nurse, a staff, a guide. The mighty ought not + To issue lawless mandates, nor should they, + On whom propitious fortunes now attend, + Think that their triumphs will for ever last: + For I was happy once, but am no more, + My bliss all vanished in a single day. + Yet, O my friend, revere and pity me, + Go to the Grecian host, admonish them + How horrible an action ’twere to slay + These captive women whom at first ye spared, + And pitied when ye dragged them from the altars. + For by your laws ’tis equally forbidden + To spill the blood of freemen, or of slave. + Although you weakly argue, will your rank + Convince them: for the self-same speech, when uttered + By the ignoble, and men well esteemed, + Comes not with equal force. + + CHOR. The human soul + Is not so flinty as to hear the woes + And plaintive strains thou lengthen’st out, nor shed + The sympathizing tear. + + ULY. To me attend, + O Hecuba, nor through resentment deem + That from a foe such counsels can proceed: + I am disposed to save thee, and now hold + No other language: but will not deny + What I to all have said; since Troy is taken, + On the first warrior of the host who asks + A victim, should thy daughter be bestowed. + The cause why many cities are diseased + Is this: the brave and generous man obtains + No honourable distinction to exalt him + Above the coward. But from us, O woman, + Achilles claims such homage, who for Greece + Died nobly. Is not this a foul reproach, + If, while our friends yet live, we seek their aid, + But after death ungratefully forget + Past services? Should armed bands once more + Assemble, and renew the bloody strife, + Will not some hardy veteran thus exclaim: + “Shall we go forth to battle, or indulge + The love of life, now we have seen the dead + Obtain no honours?” While from day to day + I live, though I have little, yet that little + For every needful purpose will suffice. + But may conspicuous trophies o’er my grave + Be planted, for such tribute to my name + Will last to after-ages. If thou call + Thy sufferings piteous, hear what in reply + We have to urge; amidst the Grecian camp + Are many aged dames, as miserable + As thou art, with full many a hoary sire, + And weeping bride, torn from her valiant lord, + O’er whose remains hath Ida’s dust been strewn. + Support thy woes: if with mistaken zeal + We have resolved to honour the deceased, + Our crime is ignorance: but ye barbarians + Pay no distinction to your friends, no homage + To the illustrious dead; hence Greece prevails; + But ye from your pernicious counsels reap + The bitter fruits they merit. + + CHOR. Ah, what ills + Ever attend the captive state, subdued + By brutal violence, and forced t’ endure + Unseemly wrongs. + + HEC. Those words I vainly spoke + Thy slaughter to avert, in air were lavished; + But, O my daughter, if thy power exceed + Thy mother’s, like the nightingale send forth + Each warbled note, to save thy life, excite, + By falling at his knees, Ulysses’ pity, + And on this ground, because he too hath children, + Entreat him to compassionate thy doom. + + POLYX. I see thee, O Ulysses, thy right hand + Beneath thy robe concealing, see thee turn + Thy face away, lest I should touch thy beard. + Be of good cheer; I’ll not call down the wrath + Of Jove who guards the suppliant, but will follow + Thy steps, because necessity ordains + And ’tis my wish to die; if I were loth, + I should appear to be an abject woman, + And fond of life: but what could lengthened life + Avail to me, whose father erst was lord + Of the whole Phrygian realm? Thus first I drew + My breath beneath the roofs of regal domes; + Then was I nurtured with the flattering hope + That I should wed a monarch, and arrive + At the proud mansion of some happy youth. + Ill-fated princess, thus I stood conspicuous + Amid the dames and brightest nymphs of Troy, + In all but immortality a goddess; + But now am I a slave, and the first cause + Which makes me wish to die, is that abhorred + Unwonted name; else some inhuman lord + With gold perchance might purchase me, the sister + Of Hector, and full many a valiant chief, + Might make me knead the bread, and sweep the floor, + And ply the loom, and pass my abject days + In bitterness of woe: some servile mate + Might bring dishonour to my bed, though erst + I was deemed worthy of a sceptred king: + Not thus. These eyes shall to the last behold + The light of freedom. O ye shades receive + A princess. Lead me on then, O Ulysses, + And as thou lead’st despatch me, for no hope, + No ground for thinking, I shall e’er be happy, + Can I discern: yet hinder not by word + Or deed the steadfast purpose I have formed; + But, O my mother, in this wish concur + With me, that I may die ere I endure + Such wrongs as suit not my exalted rank. + For whosoe’er hath not been used to taste + Of sorrow, bears indeed the galling yoke, + Yet is he grieved, when he to such constraint + Submits his neck: but they who die may find + A bliss beyond the living; for to live + Ignobly were the utmost pitch of shame. + + CHOR. A great distinction, and among mankind + The most conspicuous, is to spring from sires + Renowned for virtue; generous souls hence raise + To heights sublimer an ennobled name. + + HEC. Thou, O my daughter, well indeed hast spoken; + Yet these exalted sentiments of thine + To me will cause fresh grief; but, if the son + Of Peleus must be gratified, and Greece + Avoid reproach, Ulysses, slay not her, + But me, conducting to Achilles’ tomb, + Transpierce with unrelenting hand. I bore + Paris, whose shafts the son of Thetis slew. + + ULY. Not thee for victim, O thou aged dame, + But her, Achilles’ spectre hath demanded. + + HEC. Yet slay me with my daughter; so shall earth, + And the deceased who claims these hateful rites, + A twofold portion drink of human gore. + + ULY. Enough in her of victims; let no more + Be added: would to Heaven we were not bound + To offer up this one! + + HEC. The dread behests + Of absolute necessity require, + That with my daughter I should die. + + ULY. What mean’st thou? + I know no lord to counteract my will. + + HEC. Her, as the ivy clings around the oak, + Will I embrace. + + ULY. Not if to wiser counsels + Thou yield just deference. + + HEC. I will ne’er consent + My daughter to release. + + ULY. Nor will I go, + And leave her here. + + POLYX. Attend to me, my mother, + And, O thou offspring of Laertes, treat + The just emotions of parental wrath + With greater mildness. But, O hapless woman, + Contend not with our conquerors. Would you fall + Upon the earth and wound your aged limbs, + Thrust from me forcibly, by youthful arms + Torn with disgrace away? Provoke not wrongs + Unseemly; O, my dearest mother, give + That much-loved hand, and let me join my cheek + To yours; for I no longer shall behold + The radiant orb of yonder sun. Now take + A last farewell, O you who gave me birth; + I to the shades descend. + + HEC. But I the light + Am doomed to view, and still remain a slave. + + POLYX. Unwedded, reft of promised bridal joys. + + HEC. Thou, O my daughter, claim’st the pitying tear: + But I am a most miserable woman. + + POLYX. There shall I sleep among the realms beneath, + From you secluded. + + HEC. What resource, alas! + For me, the wretched Hecuba is left? + Where shall I finish this detested life? + + POLYX. Born free, I die a slave. + + HEC. I too, bereft + Of all my children. + + POLYX. What commands to Hector, + Or to your aged husband, shall I bear? + + HEC. Tell them I of all women am most wretched. + + POLYX. Ye paps which sweetly nourished me—— + + HEC. Alas! + My child’s untimely miserable fate. + + POLYX. Farewell, my mother, and my dear Cassandra. + + HEC. To others in that language speak; be theirs + The happiness thy mother cannot taste. + + POLYX. And thou, my brother Polydore, who dwell’st + Among the Thracians, famed for generous steeds—— + + HEC. If yet he live; but this I greatly doubt, + Because I am in all respects so wretched. + + POLYX. He lives, and when the hour of death is come, + Will close your eyes. + + HEC. I’m prematurely dead + While yet alive, bowed down to earth by woe. + + POLYX. Now bear me hence, Ulysses, o’er my face + Casting a veil: for ere I at the altar + Am slain, this heart is melted by the plaints + Of my dear mother, and my tears augment + Her sorrows. O thou radiant light; for still + Am I permitted to invoke thy name, + But can enjoy thee only till I meet + The lifted sword, and reach Achilles’ tomb. + + [_Exeunt_ ULYSSES _and_ POLYXENA. + + HEC. I faint, my limbs are all unnerved; return, + My daughter, let me touch that hand once more, + Leave me not childless. O, my friends, I perish; + Ah, would to Heaven I could see Spartan Helen, + In the same state, that sister to the sons + Of Jove, for by her beauteous eyes was Troy, + That prosperous city, with disgrace o’erthrown. + +CHORUS. + + ODE. + + I. 1. + + Ye breezes, who the ships convey, + That long becalmed at anchor lay, + Nor dared to quit the strand; + As the swift keel divides the wave, + Say whither am I borne a slave, + Ordained to tread the Doric land, + Or Phthia, where beset with reeds, + Apidanus, the sire of limpid rills, + Winding a-down the channelled hills, + Waters the fruitful meads? + + I. 2. + + Or to that isle, with dashing oar + Impelled, shall I my woes deplore, + And on the sacred earth, + Where first the palm and laurel rose, + Memorials of Latona’s throes, + Which to the twins divine gave birth, + Teach the harmonious strain to flow; + With Delos’ nymphs Diana’s praise resound, + Her hair with golden fillet bound, + And never-erring bow? + + II. 1. + + Or, pent in some Athenian tower, + Devoted to Minerva’s power, + On the robe’s tissued ground + While, shadowed by my needle, spread + Expressive forms, in vivid thread, + Picture the goddess whirling round + Her chariot with unrivalled speed; + Or represent the Titan’s impious crew, + Whom Jove’s red lightnings overthrew, + Those monsters doomed to bleed? + + II. 2. + + Alas! my sons, a valiant band, + My fathers, and my native land, + Ye shared the general fate. + Sacked by the Greeks, Troy’s bulwarks smoke, + But I, constrained to bear the yoke, + Shall soon behold some foreign state, + To ignominious bondage led; + And leaving vanquished Asia Europe’s slave, + Debarred an honourable grave, + Ascend the victor’s bed. + +TALTHYBIUS, HECUBA, CHORUS. + + TAL. Where, O ye Phrygian damsels, shall I find + The wretched Hecuba, who erst was queen + Of Ilion? + + CHOR. Prostrate near you on the ground, + Wrapt in her mantle, there she lies. + + TAL. Great Jove! + What shall I say? that thou from Heaven look’st down + Upon mankind, or have they rashly formed + A vain opinion, deeming that the race + Of gods exist, though fortune governs all? + Ha! was not this the queen of wealthy Phrygia, + And was not she the happy Priam’s wife? + But her whole city by the hostile spear + Is now destroyed, while she a slave, bowed down + By age, and childless, stretched upon the ground, + Defiles with dust her miserable head. + Old as I am, yet gladly would I die + Rather than sink into abhorred disgrace. + Arise, unhappy woman, O lift up + That feeble body, and that hoary head. + + HEC. Away! O suffer this decrepit frame + To rest. Why move me! Whosoe’er thou art, + What mean’st thou? why dost thou molest th’ afflicted? + + TAL. Talthybius: me, the herald of the Greeks, + O woman, Agamemnon hath despatched + To fetch you. + + HEC. Com’st thou, by the Greeks ordained, + My friend, to slay me also at the tomb? + How welcome were such tidings; let us go, + With speed conduct me thither. + + TAL. To inter + Your daughter, I invite you; both the sons + Of Atreus, and the assembled Grecian host, + Have sent me for that purpose. + + HEC. Ah! what say’st thou? + Thou com’st not to inform me I must die, + But to unfold the most disastrous tidings. + Then art thou lost, my daughter, from the arms + Of thy fond mother torn; of thee, my child + Am I bereft. But how did ye destroy her, + Respectfully, or with the ruthless hand + Of hostile rage? Speak, though it wound my soul. + + TAL. A second time, in pity to your daughter, + You make me weep; for now while I relate + Her sufferings, tears bedew these swimming eyes, + Such as I shed when at the tomb she perished. + To view the sacrifice the Grecian host + Were all assembled: taking by the hand + Polyxena, on the sepulchral hillock + Achilles’ son then placed her: I drew near, + Attended by the chosen youths of Greece, + To hold the tender victim, and prevent + Her struggles. But Achilles’ son, uplifting + With both his hands a cup of massive gold, + Poured forth libations to his breathless sire; + And gave a sign to me, through the whole camp + Strict silence to proclaim. I in the midst + Stood up and cried: “Be mute, ye Greeks, let none + Presume to speak, observe a general silence.” + The troops obeyed, and through their crowded ranks + Not e’en a breath was heard, while in these words + The chief expressed his purpose: “Son of Peleus, + My father, the propitiatory drops + Of these libations which invite the dead + Accept; O come and quaff the crimson blood + Of this pure virgin, whom to thee all Greece + And I devote; be thou benign, O grant us + Securely to weigh anchor, to unbind + Our halsers, and on all of us bestow + A happy voyage to our native land + From vanquished Troy.” He ceased, and in his prayer + Joined the whole army, when the chief unsheathed + His golden-hilted sword, and gave a sign + To chosen youths of Greece to hold the virgin, + Which she perceived, and in these words addressed + The warriors: “O ye Argives, who laid waste + My city, willingly I die, let no man + Confine these arms, I with undaunted breast + Will meet the stroke. I by the gods conjure you + Release, and slay me as my rank demands + Like one born free; for I from mighty kings + Descend, and in the shades beneath should blush + To be accounted an ignoble slave.” + Through all the host ran murmurs of assent, + And royal Agamemnon bade the youths + Release the virgin; they their monarch’s voice, + Soon as they heard, obeyed; our lord’s behests + The princess too revering, from her shoulder + Down to her waist rent off the purple robe, + Displayed her bosom like some statue formed + In exquisite proportion, and to earth + Bending her knee, in these affecting words + Expressed herself: “If at my breast thou aim + The wound, strike here; if at my neck, that neck + Is ready bared.” Half willing, and half loth, + Through pity for the maid, he with keen steel + Severed the arteries; streams of blood gushed forth: + Yet even thus, though at her latest gasp, + She showed a strong solicitude to fall + With decency, while stood the gazing host + Around her: soon as through the ghastly wound + Her soul had issued, every Greek was busied + In various labours; o’er the corse some strewed + The verdant foliage, others reared a pyre + With trunks of fir: but he who nothing brought, + From him who with funereal ornament + Was laden, heard these taunts: “O slothful wretch, + Bear’st thou no robe, no garland, hast thou nought + To give in honour of this generous maid?” + Such their encomiums on thy breathless daughter. + You, of all women, who in such a child + Were happiest, now most wretched I behold. + + CHOR. Fate, the behests of the immortal gods + Accomplishing, with tenfold weight hath caused + This dreadful curse to fall on Priam’s house, + And on our city. + + HEC. ’Midst unnumbered ills + I know not, O my daughter, whither first + To turn my eyes, for if on one I touch, + Another hinders me, and I again, + By a long train of woes succeeding woes, + To some fresh object am from thence called off; + Nor can I from my tortured soul efface + The grief thy fate occasions; yet the tale + Of thy exalted courage checks my groans, + Which else had been immoderate. No just cause + Have we for wonder, if the barren land + Cheered by Heaven’s influence, with benignant suns + Yields plenteous harvests, while a richer soil + Deprived of every necessary aid + Bears weeds alone. But ’midst the human race + The wicked man is uniformly wicked, + The good still virtuous, nor doth evil fortune + Corrupt his soul; the same unsullied worth + He still retains. Is this great difference owing + To birth, or education? We are taught + What virtue is, by being nurtured well, + And he who thoroughly hath learnt this lesson, + Guided by the unerring rule of right, + Can thence discern what’s base.—My soul in vain + Hath hazarded these incoherent thoughts. + But, O Talthybius, to the Greeks repair, + And strict injunctions give, that no man touch + My daughter’s corse, but let the gazing crowd + Be driven away. For in a numerous host + Its multitudes break loose from all restraints, + The outrages of mariners exceed + Devouring flame, and whosoe’er abstains + From mischief, by his comrades is despised. + But, O my aged servant, take and dip + That urn in ocean’s waves, and hither bring, + Filled with its water, that the last sad rites + To my departed daughter I may pay, + And lave the corse of that unwedded bride, + Of that affianced virgin: but alas! + Whence with such costly gifts as she deserves, + Her tomb can I adorn? My present state + Affords them not, but what it doth afford + Will I bestow, and from the captive dames + Appointed to attend me, who reside + Within these tents, some ornaments collect. + If, unobserved by their new masters, aught + They have secreted. O ye splendid domes, + Ye palaces once happy, which contained + All that was rich and fair; O Priam thou + The sire, and I who was the aged mother + Of an illustrious race, how are we dwindled + To nothing, stripped of all our ancient pride! + Yet do we glory, some in mansions stored + With gold abundant, others when distinguished + Among the citizens by sounding titles. + Vain are the schemes which with incessant care + We frame, and all our boastful words are vain. + The happiest man is he who, by no ill + O’ertaken, passes through life’s fleeting day. + + [_Exit_ HECUBA. + +CHORUS. + + ODE. + + I. + + By Heaven was my devoted head + Menaced with impending ill, + What time the pines, whose branches spread + Their tutelary shade o’er Ida’s hill, + Were laid by Phrygian Paris low, + That his adventurous bark might stem the tide, + From Sparta’s coast to waft the fairest bride + On whom the solar beams their golden radiance throw. + + II. + + Surrounding labours were at hand + Leagued with the behests of fate; + Then did such madness seize the land, + As called down vengeance from a foreign state. + The royal swain with dazzled eyes + Gave that decree, the source of all our woes, + When from three rival goddesses he chose + Bright Venus, and pronounced that she deserved the prize. + + III. + + The spear and death hence raged around, + Hence were my mansions levelled with the ground; + Staining with tears Eurotas’ tide, + Too deeply grieved to share the victor’s pride, + The Spartan virgin too in vain + Bewails her favoured youth untimely slain, + While, sprinkling ashes o’er their vest + And hoary head, the matrons bend + O’er their sons’ urns; their groans to Heaven ascend, + They tear their cheeks, and beat their miserable breast. + +ATTENDANT, CHORUS. + + ATT. Where is the wretched Hecuba, my friends, + Who in her woes surpasses all, or male, + Or of the female race? her none can rob + Of her just claim, pre-eminence in grief. + + CHOR. With the harsh sounds of that ill-boding tongue, + O wretch, what mean’st thou? wilt thou never cease + To be th’ unwelcome herald of affliction? + + ATT. Most grievous are the tidings which I bring + To Hecuba, nor easy were the task + In words auspicious to make known to mortals + Such dire calamities. + + CHOR. From her apartment + She seasonably comes forth to give thee audience. + +HECUBA, ATTENDANT, CHORUS. + + ATT. O most unfortunate, whose woes exceed + All that the power of language can express, + My queen, you perish, doomed no more to view + The blessed light; of children, husband, city, + Bereft and ruined. + + HEC. Nothing hast thou told + But what I knew, thou only com’st t’ insult me: + Yet wherefore dost thou bring to me this corse + Of my Polyxena, o’er whom ’twas said + The Grecian host with pious zeal all vied + To heap a tomb? + + ATT. She knows not, but laments + For the deceased Polyxena alone, + And to her recent woes is yet a stranger. + + HEC. Ah, bring’st thou the inspired prophetic head, + And the dishevelled tresses of Cassandra? + + ATT. You speak of one yet living, but bewail not + This the deceased: survey the naked corse + Of him whose death to you will seem most strange + And most unlocked for. + + HEC. Ha, I see my son, + My dearest Polydore, whom he of Thrace + Beneath his roof protected. I am ruined; + Now utterly I perish. O my son, + For thee, for thee I wake the frantic dirge, + By that malignant demon which assumed + Thy voice, thy semblance, recently apprized + Of this calamity. + + ATT. O wretched mother, + Know you then what was your son’s fate? + + HEC. A sight + Incredible and new to me is that + Which I behold: for from my former woes + Spring woes in long succession, and the day + When I shall cease to weep, shall cease to groan, + Will never come. + + CHOR. The woes which we endure + Alas! are dreadful. + + HEC. O my son, thou son + Of an ill fated mother, by what death + Didst thou expire? through what disastrous cause + Here liest thou prostrate? ah, what bloody hand—— + + ATT. I know not; on the shore his corse I found. + + HEC. Cast up by the impetuous waves, or pierced + With murderous spear? + + ATT. The surges of the deep + Had thrown it on the sand. + + HEC. Alas! too well + I comprehend the meaning of the dream + Which to these eyes appeared: the spectre borne + On sable pinions no illusion proved, + When, O my son, thee, thee it represented + No longer dwelling in the realms of light. + + CHOR. Instructed by that vision, canst thou name + The murderer? + + HEC. ’Twas my friend, the Thracian king, + With whom in secrecy his aged sire + Had placed him. + + CHOR. Ha! what mean’st thou? to possess + That gold by slaying him? + + HEC. O, ’twas a deed + Unutterable, a deed without a name, + Surpassing all astonishment, unholy, + And not to be endured. Where now the laws + Of hospitality? Accursed man, + How cruelly hast thou with reeking sword + Transpierced this unresisting boy, nor heard + The gentle voice of pity! + + CHOR. Hapless queen, + How hath some demon, thy malignant foe, + Rendered thee of all mortals the most wretched: + But I behold great Agamemnon come, + And therefore, O my friends, let us be silent. + +AGAMEMNON, HECUBA, CHORUS. + + AGA. Whence this delay? why go you not t’ inter, + O Hecuba, your daughter, whom Talthybius + Directed that no Greek might be allowed + To touch? We therefore have with your request + Complied, nor moved the corse. But you remain + Inactive, which I wonder at, and come + To fetch you, for each previous solemn rite + That best might please, if aught such rites can please, + Have we performed. But ah, what Trojan youth + Do I behold lie breathless in the tent? + For that he was no Greek, the garb informs me + In which he’s clad. + + HEC. Thou wretch, for of myself + I speak, when thee, O Hecuba, I name; + What shall I do, at Agamemnon’s knees + Fall prostrate, or in silence bear my woes? + + AGA. Why weep, with face averted, yet refuse + T’ inform me what hath happened? who is he? + + HEC. But from his knees, if, deeming me a slave + And enemy, the monarch should repel me, + This would but make my sorrows yet more poignant. + + AGA. I am no seer, nor can I uninformed + Trace out the secret purpose of your soul. + + HEC. Am I mistaken then, while I suppose + A foe in him who doth not mean me ill? + + AGA. If ’tis your wish I should not be apprized, + We both are of one mind; you will not speak, + And I as little am disposed to hear. + + HEC. Without his aid no vengeance for my child + Can I obtain: yet why deliberate thus? + Prosper or fail I must take courage now. + O royal Agamemnon, by those knees + A suppliant I conjure you, by that beard, + And that right hand, victorious o’er your foes. + + AGA. What do you wish for? To obtain your freedom? + This were not difficult. + + HEC. No, give me vengeance + On yonder guilty wretch, and I am willing + To linger out the remnant of my life + In servitude. + + AGA. Then why implore our aid? + + HEC. For reasons you suspect not. Do you see + That breathless corse o’er which my tears I shed? + + AGA. The corse I see; but cannot comprehend + What follows next. + + HEC. Him erst I bore and nurtured. + + AGA. Is the deceased, O miserable dame, + One of your children? + + HEC. Not of those who fell + Beneath Troy’s walls. + + AGA. What! had you other sons? + + HEC. Yes, him you see, born in an evil hour. + + AGA. But where was he when Ilion was destroyed? + + HEC. His father, apprehensive of his death, + Conveyed him thence. + + AGA. From all the other children + Which then he had, where placed he this apart? + + HEC. In this same region where his corse was found. + + AGA. With Polymestor, sovereign of the land? + + HEC. He, to preserve that execrable gold, + Was hither sent. + + AGA. But, by what ruthless hand, + And how, was he despatched? + + HEC. By whom beside? + The murderer was his friend, the Thracian king. + + AGA. Was he thus eager? O abandoned wretch, + To seize the gold! + + HEC. E’en thus; soon as he knew + Troy was o’erthrown. + + AGA. But where did you discover + The body, or who brought it? + + HEC. On the shore + This servant found it. + + AGA. Or in quest of him + Or other task then busied? + + HEC. To fetch water + To lave Polyxena’s remains she went. + + AGA. When he had slain him, it appears, his friend + Did cast him forth. + + HEC. He to the waves consigned + The stripling’s mangled corse. + + AGA. O wretched woman, + Surrounded by immeasurable woes. + + HEC. I am undone; no farther ill remains + For me t’ experience. + + AGA. Ah! what woman e’er + Was born to such calamities? + + HEC. Not one + Exists, whose sorrows equal mine, unless + You of Calamity herself would speak. + Yet hear the motive why I clasp your knees. + If I appear to merit what I suffer, + I must be patient; but if not, avenge + My wrongs upon the man who ’gainst his guest + Such treachery could commit, who, nor the gods + Of Erebus beneath, nor those who rule + In Heaven above regarding, this vile deed, + Did perpetrate, e’en he with whom I oft + Partook the feast, on whom I showered each bounty, + Esteeming him the first of all my friends; + Yet, when at Ilion’s palace with respect + He had been treated, a deliberate scheme + Of murder forming, he destroyed my son, + On whom he deigned not to bestow a tomb, + But threw his corse into the briny deep. + Though I indeed am feeble, and a slave, + Yet mighty are the gods, and by their law + The world is ruled: for by that law we learn + That there are gods, and can mark out the bounds + Of justice and injustice; if such law + To you transmitted, be infringed, if they + Who kill their guests, or dare with impious hand + To violate the altars of the gods, + Unpunished ’scape, no equity is left + Among mankind. Deeming such base connivance + Unworthy of yourself, revere my woes, + Have pity on me, like a painter take + Your stand to view me, and observe the number + Of my afflictions; once was I a queen, + But now am I a slave; in many a son + I once was rich, but now am I both old + And of my children reft, without a city, + Forlorn, and of all mortals the most wretched. + But whither would you go? With you I seem + To have no interest. Miserable me! + Why do we mortals by assiduous toil, + And such a painful search as their importance + Makes requisite, all other arts attain, + Yet not enough intent on the due knowledge + Of that sole empress of the human soul + Persuasion, no rewards bestow on those + Who teach us by insinuating words + How to procure our wishes? who can trust + Hereafter in prosperity? That band + Of my heroic sons is now no more, + Myself a captive, am led forth to tasks + Unseemly, and e’en now these eyes behold + The air obscured by Ilion’s rising smoke. + It might be vain perhaps, were I to found + A claim to your assistance on your love: + Yet must I speak: my daughter, who in Troy + Was called Cassandra, the prophetic dame, + Partakes your bed; and how those rapturous nights + Will you acknowledge, or to her how show + Your gratitude for all the fond embraces + Which she bestows, O king, or in her stead + To me her mother? In the soul of man + Th’ endearments of the night, by darkness veiled, + Create the strongest interest. To my tale + Now listen: do you see that breathless corse? + Each act of kindness which to him is shown, + Upon a kinsman of the dame you love + Will be conferred. But, in one point my speech + Is yet deficient. By the wondrous arts + Of Dædalus, or some benignant god, + Could I give voice to each arm, hand, and hair, + And each extremest joint, they round your knees + Should cling together, and together weep, + At once combining with a thousand tongues. + O monarch, O thou light of Greece, comply, + And stretch forth that avenging arm to aid + An aged woman, though she be a thing + Of nought, O succour: for the good man’s duty + Is to obey the dread behests of justice, + And ever punish those who act amiss. + + CHOR. ’Tis wonderful, indeed, how all events + Happen to mortals, and the dread behests + Of fate, uncircumscribed by human laws, + Constrain us to form amities with those + To whom the most inveterate hate we bore, + And into foes convert our former friends. + + AGA. To you, O Hecuba, your son, your fortunes, + And your entreaties, is my pity due. + I in obedience to the gods and justice + Wish to avenge you on this impious friend, + Could I appear your interests to espouse, + Without the troops suspecting that I slay + The Thracian monarch for Cassandra’s sake: + My terrors hence arise; the host esteem + Him our ally, and the deceased a foe: + What though you held him dear, his fate, the loss + Of you alone, affects not the whole camp. + Reflect too, that you find me well disposed + To share your toils, and in your cause exert + My utmost vigour; but, what makes me slow, + Is a well-grounded fear of blame from Greece. + + HEC. Alas! there’s no man free: for some are slaves + To gold, to fortune others, and the rest, + The multitude or written laws restrain + From acting as their better judgment dictates. + But since you are alarmed, and to the rabble + Yield an implicit deference, from that fear + I will release you; only to my schemes + Be privy, if some mischief I contrive + Against the murderer of my son: but take + No active part. If, when the Thracian suffers, + As he shall suffer, ’mongst the Greeks a tumult + Break forth, or they attempt to succour him, + Restrain them, without seeming to befriend + My interests. As for what remains, rely + On me, and I will manage all things well. + + AGA. How then? what mean you? With that aged hand + To wield a sword, and take away the life + Of that barbarian, or by drugs endued + With magic power? the help you need, what arts + Can furnish? what strong arm have you to fight + Your battles? whence will you procure allies? + + HEC. These tents conceal a group of Trojan dames. + + AGA. Mean you those captives whom the Greeks have seized. + + HEC. With them I on the murderer will inflict + Due punishment. + + AGA. How can the female sex + O’er men obtain a conquest? + + HEC. Numbers strike + A foe with terror, and the wiles of women + Are hard to be withstood. + + AGA. They may strike terror, + But in their courage I no trust can place. + + HEC. What? did not women slay Ægyptus’ sons, + And in their rage exterminate each male + From Lemnos? But leave me to find out means + How to effect my purpose. Through the camp + In safety this my faithful servant send; + And thou, when to my Thracian friend thou com’st, + Say, “Hecuba, erst Queen of Troy, invites + Thee and thy children, on thy own account, + No less than hers, because she to thy sons + And thee the self-same message must deliver.” + The newly slain Polyxena’s interment + Defer, O Agamemnon; in one flame + That when their kindred corses are consumed; + The brother with the sister, who demand + A twofold portion of their mother’s grief + Together may be buried in one grave. + + AGA. These rites shall be performed, which could the troops + Set sail, I needs must have denied: but now, + Since Neptune sends not an auspicious breeze, + Expecting a more seasonable voyage, + Here must we wait. But may success attend you; + For ’tis the common interest of mankind, + Of every individual, every state, + That he who hath transgressed should suffer ill. + And fortune crown the efforts of the virtuous. + + [_Exit_ AGAMEMNON. + +CHORUS. + + I. 1. + + No more, O Troy, thy dreaded name + Conspicuous in the lists of fame, + ’Midst fortresses impregnable shall stand, + In such thick clouds an armed host + Pours terrors from the Grecian coast. + And wastes thy vanquished land: + Shorn from thy rampired brow the crown + Of turrets fell; thy palaces o’erspread + With smoke lie waste, no more I tread + Thy wonted streets, my native town. + + I. 2. + + I perished at the midnight hour, + When, aided by the banquet’s power, + Sleep o’er my eyes his earliest influence shed; + Retiring from the choral song, + The sacrifice and festive throng, + Stretched on the downy bed + The bridegroom indolently lay, + His massive spear suspended on the beam, + No more he saw the helmets gleam. + Or nautic troops in dread array. + + II. 1. + + While me the golden mirror’s aid, + My flowing tresses taught to braid + In graceful ringlets with a fillet bound, + Just as I cast my robe aside, + And sought the couch; extending wide + Through every street this sound + Was heard; “O when, ye sons of Greece, + This nest of robbers levelled with the plain, + Will ye behold your homes again? + When shall these tedious labours cease?” + + II. 2. + + Then from my couch up starting, drest + Like Spartan nymph in zoneless vest, + At Dian’s shrine an ineffectual prayer + Did I address; for hither led, + First having viewed my husband dead, + Full oft I in despair, + As the proud vessel sailed from land, + Looked back, and saw my native walls laid low, + Then fainting with excess of woe + At length lost sight of Ilion’s strand. + + III. + + Helen that sister to the sons of Jove, + And Paris Ida’s swain, + With my curses still pursuing, + For to them I owe my ruin, + Me they from my country drove, + Never to return again, + By that detested spousal rite + On which Hymen never smiled, + No, ’twas some demon who with lewd delight + Their frantic souls beguiled: + Her may ocean’s waves no more + Waft to her paternal shore. + +POLYMESTOR, HECUBA, CHORUS. + + POLYM. For thee, O Priam, my unhappy friend, + And you, my dearest Hecuba, I weep, + Beholding your distress, your city taken, + Your daughter newly slain: alas! there’s nought + To be relied on; fame is insecure, + Nor can the prosperous their enjoyments guard + Against a change of Fortune, for the gods + Backward and forward turn her wavering wheel, + And introduce confusion in the world, + That we, because we know not will happen, + May worship them. But of what use are plaints + Which have no virtue to remove our woes? + If you my absence censure, be appeased, + For in the midst of Thracia’s wide domains + I from these coasts was distant at the time + Of your arrival: soon as I returned, + When from the palace I was issuing forth, + This your attendant met me, and delivered + The message, hearing which, I hither came. + + HEC. O Polymestor, wretched as I am, + I blush to see thy face; because thou erst + In happier days didst know me, I with shame + Appear before thee in my present fortunes. + Nor can I look at thee with steadfast eyes: + But this thou wilt not deem to be a mark + Of enmity: the cause of such behaviour + Is only custom, which forbids our sex + To gaze on men. + + POLYM. No wonder you thus act + Under such circumstances. But what need + Have you of me, and wherefore did you send + To fetch me from the palace? + + HEC. I in private + A secret of importance would disclose + To thee and to thy children. From these tents + Give orders for thy followers to depart. + + POLYM. [_to his attendants, who retire_.] + Withdraw; this solitary spot is safe. + For you and the confederate Grecian host + Are all attached to me. But ’tis incumbent + On you t’ inform me what my prosperous fortunes + Can yield to succour my unhappy friends! + For this is what I wish to do. + + HEC. Say first, + If he, my son, whom this maternal hand + And his fond father in thy mansions placed, + My Polydore, yet live. I’ll then pursue + My questions. + + POLYM. Yes, in him you still are blest. + + HEC. How kind, how worthy of thyself that speech, + My dearest friend! + + POLYM. What farther would you know? + + HEC. If haply yet the youth remember aught + Of me his mother. + + POLYM. Much he wished to come + And visit you in private. + + HEC. Is the gold + He brought from Troy preserved? + + POLYM. I keep it safe + In my own palace. + + HEC. Keep it if thou wilt: + But covet not the treasures of thy friends. + + POLYM. I do not covet them; my utmost wish + Is to enjoy, O woman, what I have. + + HEC. Know’st thou then, what to thee and to thy sons + I want to say? + + POLYM. I know not; till in words + Your thoughts are signified. + + HEC. Bestow such love + On Polydore as thou receiv’st from me. + + POLYM. What is it that to me and to my children + You would disclose? + + HEC. The spot, where deep in earth, + The ancient treasures of all Priam’s house + Lie buried. + + POLYM. Is this secret what you wish + Should to your son be mentioned? + + HEC. Yes, by thee, + Because thou art a virtuous man! + + POLYM. But wherefore + Did you require these children should be present? + + HEC. For them to know the secret, if thou die, + Will be of great advantage. + + POLYM. You have spoken + Well and discreetly. + + HEC. Know’st thou where at Troy + Minerva’s temple stands? + + POLYM. Is the gold there? + But by what mark shall I the spot distinguish? + + HEC. Above the surface rises a black stone. + + POLYM. Will you describe the place yet more minutely? + + HEC. The gold I in thy custody would place, + Which I from Ilion hither bring. + + POLYM. Where is it? + Concealed beneath your garment? + + HEC. ’Midst a heap + Of spoils laid up within yon tents. + + POLYM. Where mean you? + These are the Grecian mariners’ abode. + + HEC. In separate dwellings have they placed the captives? + + POLYM. But how can we rely upon the faith + Of those within? doth no man thither come? + + HEC. There’s not a Greek within; we are alone: + But enter thou these doors: for now the host, + Impatient to weigh anchor, would return + From Ilion to their homes. Thou with thy children + T’ accomplish all the dread behests of fate, + Shalt thither go where thou hast lodged my son. + + [_Exeunt_ HECUBA _and_ POLYMESTOR. + + CHOR. Thou hast not yet received the blow, + But justice sure will lay thee low. + Like him who headlong from on high + Falls where no friendly haven’s nigh, + Into the ocean’s stormy wave, + Here shalt thou find a certain grave: + For twofold ruin doth impend + O’er him who human laws pursue, + And righteous gods indignant view: + Thee shall the hope of gain mislead, + Which prompts thee to advance with speed, + And Pluto’s loathed abode descend: + Soon shalt thou press th’ ensanguined strand, + Slain by a woman’s feeble hand. + + POLYM. [_within._] Ah me, the light that visited these eyes + is darkened. + + SEMICHOR. Heard ye, O my friends, the shriek + Of yonder Thracian? + + POLYM. [_within._] Yet again, alas, + My children’s foul and execrable murder! + + SEMICHOR. My friends, some recent mischief hath within + Been perpetrated. + + POLYM. [_within._] Though your feet are swift, + Ye shall not ’scape, for through the walls I’ll burst + My passage. + + SEMICHOR. With a forceful hand, behold + He brandishes the javelin. Shall we rush + To seize him? This important crisis bids us + Assist our queen and Phrygia’s valiant dames. + + HEC. Now do thy worst, and from their hinges rend + Yon massive gates; no more canst thou impart + To those lost eyes their visual orbs, nor see + Thy sons, whom I have slain, to life restored. + +HECUBA, CHORUS. + + CHOR. Hast thou, my honoured mistress, caught the Thracian, + Over this treacherous friend hast thou prevailed, + And all thy threats accomplished? + + HEC. Ye shall see him + Before the tent, without delay, deprived + Of sight, advancing with unsteady foot, + And the two breathless corses of his sons, + Whom I, assisted by the noblest matrons + Of Troy, have slain. Th’ atonement he hath paid + To my revenge, is just. But now behold + He issues forth: I will retire and shun + The Thracian chief’s unconquerable rage. + +POLYMESTOR, HECUBA, CHORUS. + + POLYM. Ah, whither am I going? wretched me! + Where am I? what supports me? With these hands + Groping my way like some four-footed beast, + How shall I turn me, to the right or left, + That I those murderous Phrygian dames may seize + Who have destroyed me? Impious and accurst + Daughters of Ilion, in what dark recess + Do they escape me? Would to heaven, O Sun, + Thou to these bleeding eyeballs could’st afford + A cure, that thou my blindness could’st remove. + But hush, I hear those women’s cautious tread. + How shall I leap upon them? with their flesh + How shall I glut my rage, and for a feast + To hungry tigers cast their mangled bones, + In just requital of the horrid wrongs, + Which I from them, ah wretched me, have suffered? + But whither, by what impulse am I borne, + Leaving the corses of my sons exposed + To hellish Bacchanalians, as they lie + Torn by the dogs, and on the mountain’s ridge + Cast forth unburied! Where shall I stand still? + Or whither shall I go? Like some proud bark + Towed into harbour, which contracts its sails; + I to that fatal chamber which contains + The corses of my murdered sons rush onward + With speed involuntary. + + CHOR. Hapless man, + How art thou visited by woes too grievous + To be endured! but by dread Jove thy foe, + On him whose deeds are base, it is ordained + That the severest punishments await. + + POLYM. Rouse, O ye Thracians, armed with ponderous spears, + Arrayed in mail, for generous steeds renowned, + A hardy race, whom Mars himself inspires. + To you, O Grecian troops, and both the sons + Of Atreus, I with clamorous voice appeal: + Come hither, I implore you by the gods. + Do any of you hear me? Is there none + Who will assist? Why loiter ye? Those women, + Those captives have destroyed me. Horrid wrongs + Have I endured; ah me, the foul reproach! + But whither shall I turn, or whither go? + Through the aërial regions shall I wing + My swift career to that sublime abode + Where Sirius or Orion from his eyes + Darts radiant flames? or, to perdition doomed, + Shall I descend to Pluto’s sable flood? + + CHOR. He merits pardon, whosoe’er assailed + By ills too grievous to be borne, shakes off + The loathed encumbrance of a wretched life. + +AGAMEMNON, POLYMESTOR, HECUBA, CHORUS. + + AGA. Hearing thy shrieks I came. For Echo, child + Of craggy mountains, in no gentle note + Wafted those sounds tumultuous through the host. + Had we not known that by the Grecian spear + The towers of vanquished Phrygia are o’erthrown, + Such uproar would have caused no small alarm. + + POLYM. My dearest friend, soon as I heard your voice, + I instantly perceived ’twas Agamemnon. + See you my sufferings? + + AGA. Wretched Polymestor! + Who hath destroyed thee? who bereaved of sight + Thy bleeding orbs, and those thy children slew? + Whoe’er the author of such deeds, his rage + Was dreadful sure ’gainst thee and ’gainst thy sons. + + POLYM. With the assistance of those captive dames, + Me Hecuba hath murdered, more than murdered. + + AGA. What mean’st thou? Are you guilty of the crime + With which he charges you? and have you dared + To perpetrate an action thus audacious? + + POLYM. Ah me! what said you? Is she near at hand? + Inform me where to find, that I may seize her, + And scatter wide to all the fowls of heaven + Her mangled corse. + + AGA. Ha! what is thy design? + + POLYM. Allow me, I conjure you by the gods, + To grasp her with this frantic arm. + + AGA. Desist, + And casting forth all rancour from thy heart, + Now plead thy cause; that, hearing both apart, + I with unbiassed justice may decide, + If thou these sufferings merit’st. + + POLYM. I will speak. + There was one Polydore, the youngest son + Of those whom Hecuba to Priam bore; + Him erst removing from the Phrygian realm, + His sire to me consigned, that in my palace + He might be nurtured, when that hoary king + The fall of Troy suspected: him I slew: + But hear my motives for the deed, to prove + How justly and how prudently I acted. + Your enemy, that boy, if he survived + The ruin of his country, might, I feared, + Collect the scattered citizens of Troy, + And there again reside. I also feared, + That when the Greeks knew one of Priam’s line + Was living, with a second fleet invading + The shores of Phrygia, they again might drain + Of their inhabitants our Thracian fields, + Involving us, their neighbours, in the vengeance + They on their foes at Ilion wreak. To us + Already hath such neighbourhood, O king, + Proved baneful. But, apprized of her son’s fate, + Hecuba drew me hither, on pretence + She would inform me where in massive gold + The hidden treasures of old Priam’s race + Beneath Troy’s ruins were secured. Alone, + She with my children brought me to this tent, + That none beside might know. With bended knee, + While on a couch I sat, some on my left, + And others on my right, as with a friend, + Full many of the Trojan damsels took + Their places, holding up against the sun + My robe, the woof of an Edonian loom: + Some feigned t’ admire it, others viewed my spear, + And stripped me of them both. From hand to hand + The matrons, seeming to caress my children, + Removed them far from their unhappy sire: + And after their fond speeches, in an instant, + (Could you believe it?) snatching up the swords, + Which they beneath their garments had concealed, + They stabbed my sons, whom while I strove to aid, + In hostile guise their comrades held my arms + And feet: if I looked up, they by the hair + Confined me; if I moved my hands, my struggles + Proved ineffectual, through the numerous band + Of women who assailed me, and to close + The scene of my calamity, accomplished + A deed with more than common horror fraught, + For they tore out my bleeding eyes, and fled. + But, like a tiger starting up, I chased + These ruthless fiends, and with a hunter’s speed + Each wall examined, dashing to the ground, + And breaking what I seized. These cruel wrongs, + While I your interests study to maintain, + O Agamemnon, and despatch your foe, + Have I endured. To spare a long harangue, + The whole of what ’gainst woman hath been said + By those of ancient times, is saying now, + Or shall be said hereafter, in few words + Will I comprise; nor ocean’s waves, nor earth, + Nurture so vile a race, as he who most + Hath with the sex conversed, but knows too well. + + CHOR. Curb that audacious virulence of speech, + Nor, by thy woes embittered, thus revile + All womankind; the number of our sex + Is great, and some there are, whom as a mark + To envy, their distinguished worth holds forth, + Though some are justly numbered with the wicked. + + HEC. O Agamemnon, never ought the tongue + To have a greater influence o’er mankind + Than actions; but whoever hath done well, + Ought to speak well; and he, whose deeds are base, + To use unseemly language, nor find means + By specious words to colour o’er injustice. + Full wise indeed are they to whom such art + Is most familiar: but to stand the test + Of time not wise enough; for they all perish, + Not one of them e’er ’scapes. These previous thoughts + To you, O mighty king, have I addressed. + But now to him I turn, and will refute + The fallacies he uttered. What pretence + Hast thou for saying, that to free the Greeks + From such a second war, and for the sake + Of Agamemnon, thou didst slay my son? + For first, O villain, the barbarian race + With Greece, nor will, nor ever can be friends. + What interest roused thy zeal? Didst thou expect + To form a nuptial union? Wert thou moved + By kindred ties, or any secret cause? + Greece with a fleet forsooth would have returned + To lay thy country waste. Who, canst thou think, + Will credit such assertions? If the truth + Thou wilt confess, gold and thy thirst of gain + Were my son’s murderers. Why, when Troy yet flourished, + Why, when the city was on every side + Fenced by strong bulwarks, why, when Priam lived, + And Hector wielded a victorious spear, + Didst thou not, if thou hadst designed to act + In Agamemnon’s favour, at the time + When thou didst nurture my unhappy son, + And in thy palace shelter, either slay, + Or to the Greeks surrender up the youth + A living prisoner? But when Ilion’s light + Was utterly extinguished, when the smoke + Declared the city subject to our foes, + The stranger thou didst murder, at thy hearth + Who sought protection. To confirm thy guilt, + Now hear this farther charge: if thou to Greece + Hadst been a friend indeed, thou should’st have given + The gold thou say’st thou keep’st, not for thine own, + But Agamemnon’s sake, among the troops + Who suffer want, and from their native land + Have for a tedious season been detained. + But thou from those rapacious hands e’en now + Canst not endure to part with it, but hoard’st it + Still buried in thy coffers: as became thee, + Hadst thou trained up my son, hadst thou to him + Been a protector, great is the renown + Thou would’st have gained; for in distress the good + Are steadfast; but our prosperous fortunes swarm + With friends unbidden. Hadst thou been in want, + And Polydore abounded, a sure treasure + To thee would he have proved: but now no longer + In him hast thou a friend; thou of thy gold + Hast lost th’ enjoyment, thou thy sons hast lost, + And art thyself thus wretched. But to you, + O Agamemnon, now again I speak: + If you assist him, you will seem corrupt; + For you will benefit a man devoid + Of honour, justice, piety, or truth; + It might be said that you delight in evil; + But, I presume not to reproach my lords. + + CHOR. How doth a virtuous cause inspire the tongue + With virtuous language! + + AGA. On a stranger’s woes + Reluctant I pronounce, but am constrained; + For shame attends the man who takes in hand + Some great affair, and leaves it undecided. + Know then, to me thou seem’st not to have slain + Thy guest through an attachment to my cause, + Nor yet to that of Greece, but that his gold + Thou might’st retain: though in this wretched state + Thou speak to serve thy interests. Among you + Perhaps the murder of your guests seems light; + We Greeks esteem it base. If I acquit thee + How shall I ’scape reproach? Indeed I cannot: + Since thou hast dared to perpetrate the crime, + Endure the consequence. + + POLYM. Too plain it seems, + Ah me! that, vanquished by a female slave, + Here shall I perish by ignoble hands. + + HEC. Is not this just for the atrocious deed + Which thou hast wrought? + + POLYM. My children, wretched me! + And these quenched orbs. + + HEC. Griev’st thou, yet think’st thou not + That I lament my son? + + POLYM. Malignant woman, + Do you rejoice in taunting my distress? + + HEC. In such revenge have not I cause for joy? + + POLYM. Yet not so hastily, when ocean’s wave—— + + HEC. Shall in a bark convey me to the shores + Of Greece? + + POLYM. Shall whelm you in its vast abyss + Fall’n from the shrouds. + + HEC. Raised thither by what impulse? + + POLYM. Up the tall mast you with swift foot shall climb. + + HEC. On feathered pinions borne, or how? + + POLYM. With form + Canine endued, and eyeballs glaring fire. + + HEC. Whence didst thou learn that I such wondrous change + Shall undergo? + + POLYM. Bacchus, the Thracian seer, + Gave this response. + + HEC. To thee did he unfold + Nought of the grievous sufferings thou endur’st? + + POLYM. Then could you ne’er have caught me by your wiles. + + HEC. But on this change of being, after death, + Or while I yet am living, shall I enter? + + POLYM. After your death, and men shall call your tomb—— + + HEC. By my new form, or what is it thou mean’st? + + POLYM. The sepulchre of that vile brute, an object + Conspicuous to the mariner. + + HEC. I care not; + My vengeance is complete. + + POLYM. Cassandra too, + Your daughter, must inevitably bleed. + + HEC. Abomination! On thy guilty head + These curses I retort. + + POLYM. Her shall the wife + Of Agamemnon slay, who sternly guards + His royal mansion. + + HEC. Such a frantic deed + As this may Tyndarus’ daughter ne’er commit! + + POLYM. She next uplifting the remorseless axe + Shall smite her lord. + + AGA. Ha! madman, dost thou court + Thy ruin? + + POLYM. Slay me; for the murderous bath + Awaits you, when to Argos you return. + + AGA. Will ye not drag him from my sight by force? + + POLYM. Hear you with grief what I announce? + + AGA. My followers, + Why stop ye not the miscreant’s boding mouth? + + POLYM. This mouth be closed for ever: I have spoken. + + AGA. Will ye not cast him with the utmost speed + Upon some desert island, since he dares + To speak with such licentiousness? Depart, + O wretched Hecuba, and both those corses + Deposit in the grave. But, as for you, + Ye to your lord’s pavilions must repair, + O Phrygian dames: for I perceive the gales + Rising to waft us homeward; may success + Attend the voyage to our native land! + And in our mansions may we find all well, + Freed from these dangers! + + CHOR. To the haven go, + And to the tents, my friends, t’ endure the toils + Our lords impose: for thus harsh fate enjoins. + + + + +HERCULES DISTRACTED. + + +PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. + + AMPHITRYON. + MEGARA. + CHORUS OF THEBAN OLD MEN. + HERCULES. + LYCUS. + IRIS. + A FIEND. + MESSENGER. + THESEUS. + + +SCENE.—BEFORE THE ALTAR OF JUPITER, AT THE ENTRANCE OF THE HOUSE OF +HERCULES IN THEBES. + +AMPHITRYON, MEGARA. + + AMP. Is there on earth, a stranger to the man + Who shared the same auspicious nuptial bed + With Jove, Amphitryon born at Argos, sprung + From Perseus’ son Alcæus, me the sire + Of Hercules? He in these regions dwelt, + Where from the soil a helmed crop arose; + Mars, a small number of that race, preserved, + Whose children’s children people Cadmus’ city. + Hence Creon king of Thebes, Menæceus’ son, + Derives his birth, and Creon is the sire + Of this unhappy Megara, to grace + Whose hymeneal pomp, each Theban erst + Attuned the jocund lute, into my house + When Hercules conducted her. But leaving + This realm where I resided, and his consort + And kindred, my son chose to fix his seat + Within the walls of Argos, of that city + Erected by the Cyclops, whence I fled + Stained with Electryon’s gore: but to alleviate + My woes, and in his native land obtain + A quiet residence, this great reward + He on Eurystheus promised to bestow, + That he would rid the world of every pest: + Harassed by Juno’s stings, or envious fate, + With her conspiring: but, his other labours + Accomplished, he through Tænarus’ jaws at length + Went to the house of Pluto, to drag forth + Into the realms of day hell’s triple hound: + He thence returns not. But an old tradition + Among the race of Cadmus hath prevailed, + That Lycus, Dirce’s husband, erst bore rule + Over this city, till Jove’s sons, Amphion + And Zethus, who on milk-white coursers rode, + Became its sovereigns. Lycus’ son who bears + His father’s name, no Theban, but arriving + From the Eubœan state, slew royal Creon, + And having slain him, seized the throne, invading + The city with tumultuous broils convulsed. + But the affinity which we have formed + With Creon, seems to be my greatest curse: + For while my son stays in the realms beneath, + Lycus th’ egregious monarch of this land + Would with the children of Alcides kill + His consort, by fresh murders to extinguish + The past, and kill me too (if one through age + So useless may be numbered among men), + Lest when the boys attain maturer age, + They should avenge their grandsire Creon’s death. + But I (for my son left me here to tend + His children, and direct the house, since he + Entered the subterraneous realms of night), + With their afflicted mother, lest the race + Of Hercules should bleed, for an asylum + Have chosen this altar of protecting Jove, + Which my illustrious son for a memorial + Of his victorious arms did here erect, + When he in battle had subdued the Minyans. + But we, though destitute of every comfort, + Of food, drink, clothing, though constrained to lie + On the bare pavement, here maintain our seat, + For every hospitable door is barred + Against us, and we have no other hope + Of being saved. Some of our friends I see + Are faithless, and the few who prove sincere, + Too weak to aid us. Such is the effect + Of adverse fortune o’er the race of men; + May he to whom I bear the least attachment, + Never experience that unerring test + Of friendship. + + MEG. Thou old man, who erst didst storm + The Taphian ramparts, when thou with renown + Didst lead the host of Thebes; the secret will + Of Heaven, how little can frail mortals know! + For to me too of no avail have proved + The fortunes of my father, who elate + With wealth and regal power (whence at the breasts + Of its possessors spears are hurled by those + Whose souls the lust of mad ambition fires), + And having children, gave me to thy son, + Joining a noble consort in the bonds + Of wedlock with Alcides, through whose death + These blessings are all fled. Now I, and thou, + Old man, are doomed to perish with the sons + Of Hercules, whom, as the bird extends + Her sheltering wings over her callow brood, + I guard. By turns they come and question me: + “O mother, whither is my father gone? + What is he doing? when will he return?” + Though now too young sufficiently to feel + How great their loss, thus ask they for their sire. + I change the theme, and forge a soothing tale, + But am with wonder smitten when the doors + Creak on their massive hinges, and at once + They all start up, that at their father’s knees + They may fall prostrate. But what hope hast thou + Of saving us, or what support, old man? + For I to thee look up. We from the bounds + Of these domains unnoticed cannot ’scape; + Mightier than us, a watchful guard is placed + At every avenue, and in our friends + No longer for protection can we trust. + Explain thyself, if thou hast any scheme, + By which thou from impending death canst save us; + But let us strive to lengthen out the time, + Since we are feeble. + + AMP. ’Tis no easy task + In such a situation, O my daughter, + To form a sure and instantaneous judgment. + + MEG. What is there wanting to complete thy woes, + Or why art thou so fond of life? + + AMP. That blessing + I still enjoy, still cherish pleasing hopes. + + MEG. I also hope, old man: but it is folly + To look for what we never can attain. + + AMP. We by delaying might avert our fate. + + MEG. But I in this sad interval of time + Feel piercing anguish. + + AMP. The auspicious gales + Of fortune, O my daughter, yet may waft + Both you and me out of our present troubles, + If e’er my son your valiant lord return. + But O be pacified yourself, and cause + Your children to dry up their streaming tears; + With gentle language and delusive tales + Beguile them, though all fraudful arts are wretched. + For the disasters which afflict mankind + Are wearied out; the stormy winds retain not + Their undiminished force; nor are the blest + Perpetually blest: for all things change, + And widely differ from their former state. + The valiant man is he who still holds fast + His hopes; but to despair bespeaks the coward. + +CHORUS, AMPHITRYON, MEGARA. + + CHOR. Propped on my faithful staff, from home, + And from the couch of palsied age, + In melancholy guise I roam, + Constrained to chaunt funereal strains, + As the expiring swan complains, + A war of words alone I wage, + In semblance, but a flitting sprite, + An airy vision of the night. + I totter; yet doth active zeal + This faithful bosom still inspire. + Ye children who have lost your sire, + Thou veteran, and thou aged dame, + Doomed for thy lord these griefs to feel, + Whose Pluto’s dreary mansions claim; + O weary not your tender feet. + Like steeds by galling harness bound, + To turn the ponderous mill around, + I would advance my friends to meet, + Yet are my utmost efforts vain, + This shattered frame I scarce sustain: + Draw near, O take this trembling hand, + And holding fast my robe, support + My steps, thy needful aid I court, + Because I am too weak to stand. + Lead on the chief, though now by years + Bowed down, who marshalled on the strand, + His comrades erst a hardy band; + With him in youth we launched our spears, + Nor then belied our native land. + See how their eyes dart liquid fire, + Those children emulate their sire; + But still hereditary fate, + Pursues with unrelenting hate + Their tender years, nor can their charms + Redeem them from impending harms. + What valiant champions of thy cause, + O Greece, thy violated laws, + When these thy great supports shall fail, + Torn from thy fostering land wilt thou bewail. + But I behold the monarch of the realm, + Tyrannic Lycus, who these doors approaches. + +LYCUS, AMPHITRYON, MEGARA, CHORUS. + + LYC. This question (if I may) I to the sire + And consort of Alcides would propose + (But, as your king, I have a right to make + Any inquiries I think fit): How long + Seek ye to spin out life? What farther hope + Have ye in view, what succour to ward off + The stroke of death? Expect ye that the father + Of these deserted children, who lies stretched + Amid the realms beneath will thence return, + That ye bely your rank, and meanly utter + These clamorous plaints on being doomed to die? + Through Greece hast _thou_ diffused an idle boast, + That Jove enjoyed thy consort, and begot + An offspring like himself; while _you_ exulted + In being called wife to the first of heroes. + But what great action hath your lord performed, + In having slain that hydra at the lake, + Or the Nemæan lion whom with snares + He caught, and then did arrogantly boast + That he had strangled in his nervous arms? + Will these exploits enable you to vie + With me? and for such merit am I bound + To spare the sons of Hercules, who gained + A name which he deserved not? He was brave + In waging war with beasts, in nought beside, + With his left hand he never did sustain + The shield, nor faced he the protended spear, + But with his bow, that weapon of a dastard, + Was still prepared for flight: such arms afford + No proof of courage; but the truly brave + Is he who in the ranks where he is stationed + Maintains his ground, and sees with steadfast eye + Those ghastly wounds the missile javelin gives. + Old man, I act not thus through cruelty, + But caution; for I know that I have slain + Creon _her_ father, and possess his throne. + These children therefore will not I allow + To live till they attain maturer years, + Lest they should punish me for such a deed. + + AMP. Jove will assert the cause of his own son. + But as for me, O Hercules, my care + Shall be to prove the folly of this tyrant: + For thy illustrious name I will not suffer + To be reproached. First from a hateful charge + (And that of cowardice I deem most hateful), + Calling the gods to witness, am I bound + To vindicate thy honour. I appeal + To Jove’s own thunder, and th’ impetuous steeds, + Which drew Alcides’ chariot when he sped + Those winged arrows to transpierce the flanks + Of earth-born giants, and among the gods + Triumphant revelled at the genial board. + Go next to Pholoe’s realm, thou worst of kings, + And ask the Centaurs’ monstrous brood, what man + They judge to be most brave, whether that title + Belongs not to my son, who only bears, + As you assert, the semblance of a hero? + But should you question the Eubœan mount + Of Dirphys, where your infancy was nurtured, + It cannot sound your praise: you have performed + No glorious action for your native land + To testify, yet scorn that wise invention + The quiver fraught with shafts: attend to me + And I will teach you wisdom. By his arms + Encumbered, stands the warrior who is sheathed + In ponderous mail, and through the fears of those + Who fight in the same rank, if they want courage, + Loses his life; nor, if his spear be broken, + Furnished with nought but courage, from his breast + Can he repel the wound; but he who bends + With skilful hand the bow, hath this advantage, + Which never fails him: with a thousand shafts + He smites the foe, no danger to himself + Incurring, but securely stands aloof, + And wreaks his vengeance while they gaze around, + Without perceiving whence the weapon comes: + His person he exposes not, but takes + A guarded post: for what in war displays + The greatest prudence, is to vex the foe, + Nor rush at random on their pointed spears. + Such reasoning on the subject in debate + With yours indeed agrees not: but what cause + Have you for wishing to destroy these children? + How have they injured you? In one respect + I deem you wise, because you dread the race + Of valiant men, and feel yourself a coward: + Yet is it hard on us, if we must bleed + Your apprehensions to remove; you ought + To suffer all we would inflict, from us + Whose merit is superior far to yours, + Were Jove impartial. Would you therefore wield + The sceptre of this land, let us depart + As exiles from the realm, or you shall meet + With strict retaliation, when the gales + Of wavering fortune alter. O thou land + Of Cadmus (for to thee I now will speak, + But in reproachful accents), such protection + Afford’st thou to the sons of Hercules, + Who singly warring with the numerous host + Of Minyæ, caused the Thebans to lift up + Their free-born eyes undaunted? I on Greece + No praises can bestow, nor will pass over + In silence its base treatment of my son, + For ’twas its duty in these children’s cause, + Bearing flames, pointed spears, and glittering mail, + To have marched forth, and recompensed the toils + Of their great father, who hath purged the sea + And land from all its monsters. Such protection + Nor doth the Theban city, O my children, + Nor Greece afford you; but ye now look up + To me a feeble friend who can do nought, + But plead for you with unavailing words. + For all the vigour which I once possessed + Hath now deserted me; old age assails + My trembling limbs and this decrepit frame. + Were I again endued with youthful strength, + I would snatch up my javelin, and defile + With gore the yellow ringlets on the head + Of that oppressor, whom his fear should drive + Beyond the most remote Atlantic bounds. + + CHOR. Are there not causes such as may provoke + Those who are virtuous to express their thoughts, + Though destitute of eloquence? + + LYC. ’Gainst me + Speak what thou wilt, for thou art armed with words, + But for injurious language by my deeds + Will I requite thee. Go, send woodmen, some + To Helicon, some to Parnassus’ vale, + Bid them fell knotted oaks, and having borne them + Into the city, heap their ponderous trunks + Around the altar, and with kindled flames + Consume the bodies of this hated race; + So shall they learn that Creon the deceased + No longer is the ruler of this land, + But that I wield the sceptre. As for you + Who thwart my counsels, O ye aged men, + Not for the sons of Hercules alone + Shall ye lament, but for those evil fortunes + Which ye and your own house are doomed to suffer: + But this shall ye remember, that to me, + Your monarch, ye are slaves. + + CHOR. O ye the race + Of earth, whom Mars erst sowed, when he had torn + From the huge dragon’s jaws th’ envenomed teeth, + With those right hands why will ye not uplift + The staves on which ye lean, and with his gore + Defile the head of this unrighteous man, + Not born at Thebes, but in a foreign realm, + From inconsiderate youths who gains that homage + Which he deserves not? but in evil hour + O’er me shalt thou bear rule, nor shall my wealth + Acquired by many toils be ever thine: + Go, act the tyrant in Eubœa’s land, + From whence thou hither cam’st: for while I live, + The sons of Hercules thou ne’er shalt slay, + Nor is their mighty father plunged so deep + Beneath earth’s surface, that he cannot hear + His children’s outcries. Thou to whom this land + Owes its destruction dost possess the throne: + But he its benefactor is deprived + Of the rewards he merits. Me thou deem’st + Officious, for protecting those I love + E’en in the grave, where friends are needed most. + O my right arm, how dost thou wish to wield + The spear, but through enfeebling age hast lost + Thy vigour: else would I have quelled thy pride + Who dar’st to call me slave, and in this Thebes, + Where thou exult’st, with glory dwelt. A city + Diseased through mutiny and evil counsels + Is void of wisdom, or would ne’er have chosen + Thee for its lord. + + MEG. Ye veterans, I applaud + Your zeal; for indignation at the wrongs + His friends endure becomes the virtuous friend. + But let not anger ’gainst your lord expose you + To suffer in our cause. My judgment hear, + Amphitryon, if to thee in aught I seem + To speak discreetly. I these children love + (And how can I help loving those I bore?) + For whom I have endured the painful throes + Of childbirth. And to die is what I think of + As of a thing most dreadful; but the man + Who with necessity contends I hold + An idiot. But let us, since die we must, + Not perish in the flames to furnish scope + Of laughter to our foes, which I esteem + An ill beyond e’en death: for much is due + To the unsullied honour of our house, + For thee who erst in arms hast gained renown, + To die with cowardice, were a reproach + Not to be borne. My lord, though I forbear + To dwell on his just praises, is so noble, + He would not wish these children saved, to bear + The imputation of an evil name: + For through the conduct of degenerate sons + Reproach oft falls on their illustrious sires; + And the examples which my husband gave me, + I ought not to reject. But view what grounds + Thou hast for hope, that I of these may form + A proper estimate. Dost thou expect + Thy son to issue from the realms beneath? + What chief deceased from Pluto’s loathed abode + Did e’er return? Can we by gentle words + Appease this tyrant? No: we ought to fly + From fools who are our foes: but to the wise + And generous yield; for we with greater ease + May make a friend of him in whom we find + A sense of virtuous shame. But to my soul + This thought occurs, that we, the children’s sentence, + By our entreaties, haply might obtain + Converted into exile: yet this too + Is wretched, at th’ expense of piteous need + To compass our deliverance. For their friends + Avoid the face of guests like these, and look + No longer kindly on the banished man + After one day is over. Rouse thy courage, + And bleed with us, thee too, since death awaits. + By thy great soul, O veteran, I conjure thee. + Although the man who labours to repel + Evils inflicted by Heaven’s wrath, is brave, + Yet doth such courage border upon frenzy: + For what the fates ordain, no god can frustrate. + + CHOR. While yet these arms retained their youthful strength, + Had any one insulted thee, with ease + Could I have quelled him; but I now am nothing: + On thee, Amphytrion, therefore ’tis incumbent + To think how best thou may’st henceforth ward off + Th’ assaults of fortune. + + AMP. No unmanly fear, + No wish to lengthen out this life, prevents + My voluntary death: but I would save + The children of my son, though I appear + To grasp at things impossible. Behold + I bare my bosom to the sword; pierce, slay, + Or cast me from the rock. But I, O king, + For this one favour sue to you; despatch + Me and this hapless dame before the children, + Lest them we view, most execrable sight, + In death’s convulsive pangs, to her who bore them, + And me their grandsire, shrieking out for aid. + But as for all beside, do what you list, + For we have now no bulwark which from death + Can save us. + + MEG. I entreat one favour more, + Which to us both will equally be grateful. + Permit me in funereal robes to dress + My children; for that purpose be the gates + Thrown open (for the palace now is closed + Against us) that they from their father’s house + This small advantage may obtain. + + LYC. Your wishes + Shall be complied with. I my servants bid + Unbar the gates. Go in, bedeck yourselves; + The costly robes I grudge not: but no sooner + Shall ye have put them on, than I to you + Will come, and plunge you in the shades beneath. + + [_Exit_ LYCUS. + + MEG. Follow your hapless mother, O my children, + To your paternal house, where, though our wealth + Be in the hands of others, our great name + We still preserve. + + AMP. O Jove, ’twas then in vain + That thou didst deign to share my nuptial couch, + In vain too, of thy son have I been styled + The father, for thou hast not proved the friend + Thou didst appear to be. I, though a man, + Exceed in virtue thee a mighty god; + Because I to their foes have not betrayed + The sons of Hercules: but thou, by stealth, + Entering my chamber, to another’s wife + Without permission cam’st; yet know’st not how + To save thy friends; thou surely art a god + Either devoid of wisdom, or unjust. + + [_Exeunt_ AMPHITRYON _and_ MEGARA. + +CHORUS. + + ODE. + + I. 1. + + For Linus’ death, by all the tuneful Nine + Bewailed, doth Phœbus’ self complain, + And loudly uttering his auspicious strain, + Smite with a golden quill the lyre; but mine + Shall be the task, while songs of praise + I chaunt and twine the laureate wreath, + His matchless fortitude t’ emblaze, + Who sought hell’s inmost gloom, the dreary shades beneath; + Whether I call the hero son of Jove, + Or of Amphitryon; for the fame + To which his labours have so just a claim, + Must e’en in death attract the public love: + In the Nemæan forest first he slew + That lion huge, whose tawny hide + And grinning jaws extended wide, + He o’er his shoulders threw. + + I. 2. + + The winged arrows whizzing from his bow, + Did on their native hills confound + The Centaurs’ race with many a deadly wound: + Alcides’ matchless strength doth Peneus know, + Distinguished by his limpid waves, + The fields laid waste of wide extent, + With Pelion, and the neighbouring caves + Of Homoles, uprooting from whose steep ascent, + Tall pines that cast a venerable shade, + The monsters armed their forceful hands, + And strode terrific o’er Thessalia’s lands: + Then breathless on th’ ensanguined plain he laid + That hind distinguished by her golden horns, + And still in Dian’s temple seen + His prize, to glad the huntress queen, + Oenöe’s walls adorns. + + II. 1. + + The chariot with triumphal ensigns graced + Ascending, to his stronger yoke + He Diomedes’ furious coursers broke, + Scorning the bit, in hateful stalls who placed + By their fell lord, the flesh of man + Raging devoured, accursed food; + A stream from their foul mangers ran, + Filled with unholy gore, and many a gobbet crude. + O’er Hebrus’ silver tide at the command + Of Argos’ unrelenting king + Eurystheus, he these captive steeds did bring, + Close to Anauros’ mouth on Pelion’s strand. + Inhuman Cycnus, son of Mars, next felt + The force of his resounding bow, + Unsocial wretch, the stranger’s foe, + Who in Amphanea dwelt. + + II. 2. + + Then came he to th’ harmonious nymphs, that band + Who in Hesperian gardens hold + Their station, where the vegetative gold + Glows in the fruitage; with resistless hand + To snatch the apple from its height; + The dragon wreathed his folds around + The tree’s huge trunk, portentous sight, + In vain; that monster fell transfixed with many a wound. + Into those straits of the unfathomed main + He entered, with auspicious gales, + Where feared the mariner t’ unfurl his sails, + And fixing limits to the watery plain + His columns reared: then from the heavens’ huge load + The wearied Atlas he relieved, + His arm the starry realms upheaved, + And propped the gods’ abode. + + III. 1. + + Foe to the Amazons’ equestrian race + He crossed the boisterous Euxine tide, + And gave them battle by Mæotis’ side. + What friends through Greece collected he to face + Hippolita, th’ intrepid maid, + That he the belt of Mars might gain, + And tissued robe with golden braid. + Still doth exulting Greece the virgin’s spoils retain, + Lodged in Mycene’s shrine, with gore imbrued, + The dog of Lerna’s marshy plain, + Who unresisting multitudes had slain, + The hundred-headed hydra, he subdued, + Aided by fire, and winged shafts combined, + These from his well-stored quiver flew, + And triple-formed Geryon slew, + Fierce Erythræa’s hind. + + III. 2. + + But having finished each adventurous strife, + At length in evil hour he steers + To Pluto’s mansion, to the house of tears, + The goal of labour, there to end his life, + Thence never, never to return; + His friends dismayed forsake these gates, + In hopeless solitude we mourn. + Hell’s stern award is passed, the boat of Charon waits + To their eternal home his sons to bear, + Most impious lawless homicide! + For thee, O Hercules, thee erst his pride, + Thy sire now looks with impotent despair. + Had I the strength which I possessed of yore, + I with my Theban friends, arrayed + In brazen arms, thy sons would aid: + But youth’s blest days are o’er. + + Clad in funereal vestments I behold + The children of Alcides erst the great, + With his loved wife and his decrepit sire + Conducting them. O wretched me! no longer + Can I restrain the fountain of these tears + Which gush incessant from my aged eyes. + +MEGARA, AMPHITRYON, CHORUS. + + MEG. Come on. What priest, what butcher is at hand + To slay these wretched children, or transpierce + My bosom? Now the victims stand prepared + For their descent to Pluto’s loathed abode. + By force, my children, are we borne along + United in th’ unseemly bands of death; + Decrepit age with helpless infancy + And intermingled matrons. O dire fate + Of me and of my sons, whom these sad eyes + Shall never more behold! Alas! I bore, + I nurtured you, to be the scorn, the sport, + Of our inveterate foes, and by their hands + To perish. Each fond hope, which from the words + Of your departed father erst I formed, + Hath proved fallacious. The deceased to _thee_ + Allotted Argos, in Eurystheus’ palace + Wert _thou_ to dwell a mighty king, and wield + The sceptre of Pelasgia’s fruitful land, + Then with the lion’s hide himself had worn + Thy front he covered: _you_ were to ascend + The throne of Thebes for brazen chariots famed, + Possessing my hereditary fields, + Such were the hopes of your exulting sire, + Who to _your_ hand consigned that ponderous mace + Deceitful gift of Dædalus: on _thee_, + Thou little one, he promised to bestow + Oecalia, which his shafts had erst laid waste: + To you all three, these realms in threefold portions + Did he distribute; for your father’s views + Were all magnanimous: but I marked out + Selected consorts for you, and formed schemes + Of new affinities, from the domains + Of Athens, Sparta, and the Theban city; + That binding up your cables, and secure + From the tempestuous deep, ye might enjoy + A happy life: these prospects now are vanished: + For to your arms hath changeful Fortune given + The Destinies to be your brides, while tears + Are your unhappy mother’s lustral drops. + Your grandsire celebrates the nuptial feast, + O’er which he summons Pluto to preside, + The father of your consorts. But, alas! + Whom first of you my children, or whom last + To this fond bosom shall I clasp, on whom + Bestow a kiss, whom in my arms sustain? + How like the bee with variegated wings + Shall I collect the sorrows of you all, + And blend the whole together in a flood + Of tears exhaustless? O my dearest lord, + If any of those spirits who reside + In Pluto’s realms beneath, can hear the voice + Of mortals, in these words to thee I speak: + O Hercules, thy father and thy sons + Are doomed to bleed; I perish too who erst + On thy account was by the world called happy. + Protect us, come, and to these eyes appear, + Though but a ghost; thy presence will suffice: + For these thy children’s murderers, when with thee + Compared, are dastards. + + AMP. To appease the powers + Of hell beneath, O woman, be thy care. + But lifting to the skies my suppliant hands, + I call on thee, O Jove, that, if thou mean + To be a friend to these deserted children, + Thou interpose without delay and save them, + For soon ’twill be no longer in thy power: + Thou oft hast been invoked; but all my prayers + Are ineffectual; die, it seems, we must. + But, O ye aged men, the bliss which life + Can yield is small, contrive then how to pass + As sweetly as is possible the hours + Which fate allots you, e’en from morn till night + Shaking off every grief: for Time preserves not + Our hopes entire, but on his own pursuits + Intent, deserts us, borne on rapid wings. + Look but on me, amid the sons of men + Conspicuous erst performing glorious deeds; + And yet hath Fortune in one single day + Taken all from me, like a feather wafted + Into the trackless air. I know not him + To whom collected stores of wealth or fame + Are durable. Farewell, for this, my comrades, + Is the last time ye shall behold your friend. + +HERCULES, MEGARA, AMPHITRYON, CHORUS. + + MEG. Ha! O thou aged man, do I behold + My dearest husband? How shall I find utterance? + + AMP. I know not, O my daughter; for I too + Am with amazement seized. + + MEG. This sure is he + Who as we heard was in the realms beneath; + Else doth some vision in the noontide glare + Delude our senses. But what frantic words + Were those I spoke as if ’twas all a dream? + This is no other than thy real son, + Thou aged man. Come hither, O my children, + Cling to your father’s robe, with speed advance, + Quit not your hold, for ye in him shall find + An equal to our great protector Jove. + + HER. All hail, thou mansion, and thou vestibule + Of my abode; thee with what joy once more + Do I behold, revisiting the light. + Ha! what hath happened? I my children see + With garlands on their temples, and my wife + Amidst a throng of men, my father too + Weeping for some mischance. I’ll go to them, + And ask the cause. What recent ill, O woman, + Hath happened to this house? + + MEG. My dearest lord, + O thou who to thy aged father com’st + A radiant light, in safety hast thou reached, + At this important crisis, the abodes + Of those thou lov’st. + + HER. What mean you by these words? + What tumults, O my sire, are we involved in? + + MEG. We are undone; but, O thou aged man, + Forgive, if I’ve anticipated that + Thou would’st have said to him: for in some points + Our sex are greater objects of compassion + Than males. I deem my children dead; I too + Am perishing. + + HER. O Phœbus! with what preludes + Do you begin your speech? + + MEG. My valiant brothers, + And aged sire, alas! are now no more. + + HER. Who slew them, how, or with what weapon? + + MEG. Lycus, + The monarch of this city, was their murderer. + + HER. With arms did he oppose them, or prevail, + When foul sedition through the land diffused + Its pestilent contagion? + + MEG. By revolt + He holds the sceptre of the Theban realm. + + HER. But wherefore hath this sudden panic reached + You and my aged sire? + + MEG. He would have slain + Thy father, me, and these defenceless children. + + HER. What mean you? could he fear my orphan race? + + MEG. Lest they hereafter might avenge the death + Of Creon. + + HER. But what garb is this they wear, + Which suits some corse? + + MEG. Already in these vestments + For our funereal rites are we arrayed. + + HER. And were ye on the point of perishing + By violence? Ah me! + + MEG. Our friends desert us; + For we have heard that thou wert dead. + + HER. Whence rose + This comfortless depression of the soul? + + MEG. Eurystheus’ heralds the sad tidings bore. + + HER. But for what cause did ye forsake my house, + My sacred Lares? + + MEG. From his bed thy sire + Was forcibly dragged forth. + + HER. So void of shame + Was Lycus as to treat his age with scorn? + + MEG. Shame dwells not near the shrine of brutal force. + + HER. Were we thus destitute of friends when absent? + + MEG. What friends abide with him who is unhappy? + + HER. But did they scorn the battles which I fought + Against the Minyans? + + MEG. I to thee repeat it, + Calamity is friendless and forlorn. + + HER. Will ye not cast from your dishevelled hair + These wreaths of Pluto? will ye not look up + To yon bright sun, and ope your eyes to view + Scenes far more pleasing than the loathsome shades + Of hell beneath? But I, for wrongs like these + Demand my vengeful arm, with speed will go + And overturn the house of that new king, + His impious head I to the ravenous hounds + Lopped from his trunk will cast, and each base Theban + Who with ingratitude repays my kindness + With this victorious weapon smite: my shafts + The rest shall scatter, till Ismenos’ channel + Be choked up with the corses of the slain, + And Dirce’s limpid fountain stream with gore. + For whom, in preference to my wife, my children, + And aged father, shall I aid? Farewell, + Ye labours which unwittingly I strove + T’ accomplish, mindless of these dearest pledges; + In their defence I equally am bound + To yield up life, if for their father they + Were doomed to bleed. What! shall we call it noble + To war against the hydra or the lion, + And execute the mandates of Eurystheus, + If I avert not my own children’s death? + No longer else shall I, as erst, be styled + Alcides the victorious. + + CHOR. It is just + Parents should aid their sons, their aged sire, + And the dear partner of the nuptial bed. + + AMP. My son, this mighty privilege is yours, + To be the best of friends to those you love, + And a determined foe to those you hate. + But be not too impetuous. + + HER. In what instance + Have I been hastier, O my honoured sire, + Than it becomes me? + + AMP. To support his cause, + The king hath many, who in fact are poor, + Though fame accounts them rich; they raised a tumult, + And caused the ruin of the state, to plunder + Their neighbours; for the fortunes they possessed + Are through their own extravagance and sloth + Reduced to nothing. As the gates you entered, + These could not fail to see you: O beware + Lest since you by your foes have been perceived, + You perish when you least foresee your danger, + Oppressed by numbers. + + HER. Though all Thebes beheld me, + I care not. But when I descried a bird + Of evil omen perched aloof, I knew + That there had some calamity befallen + My house, and therefore with presaging soul + In secrecy I entered these domains. + + AMP. Draw near with pious awe, my son, salute + The Lares, and display that welcome face + In your paternal mansions. For to drag + Your wife and children forth, with me your sire + To murder us, the king himself will come. + But all will prosper, if you here remain, + And a secure asylum will you find, + Nor through the city spread a loud alarm + Ere your designs succeed. + + HER. Thus will I act, + For thou hast rightly spoken; I am entering + The palace. From the sunless caves beneath + Of Proserpine, after a long delay + Returning, first to our domestic gods + Will I be mindful to address my vows. + + AMP. Have you indeed then visited the house + Of Pluto, O my son? + + HER. And thence the dog + With triple-head brought to these realms of light. + + AMP. Conquered in battle, or on you bestowed + By hell’s indulgent goddess? + + HER. I prevailed + O’er him in combat, and have been so happy + As to behold the far-famed mystic orgies. + + AMP. But is the beast lodged in Eurystheus’ palace? + + HER. Him Cthonia’s groves and Hermion’s walls + confine. + + AMP. Knows not Eurystheus that you are returned + Into this upper world? + + HER. He doth not know: + For I came first to learn what passes here. + + AMP. But wherefore in the realms beneath, so long + Did you remain? + + HER. I there prolonged may stay, + My sire, to bring back Theseus from the shades. + + AMP. And where is he, gone to his native land? + + HER. He went to Athens, pleased with his escape + From the infernal regions. But attend + Your father to the palace, O my sons, + Which now ye enter in a happier state + Than when ye left it: but take courage, cease + To pour forth floods of tears; and, O my wife, + Collect thyself, let all thy terrors cease, + And loose my garments; for I have not wings, + Nor would I vanish from my friends. Alas! + Their hold they quit not, but cling faster still, + And faster to my vest. Because ye stand + Upon the verge of ruin, I will take + And bear you hence, as by the ship light boats + Are guided o’er the deep: for I refuse not + The care my children claim. Here all mankind + Are on a level, they of nobler rank + And mean condition, to their progeny + Bear equal love. The gifts of fortune vary, + Some have abundant wealth, and some are poor; + But the whole human race feels this attachment. + + [_Exeunt_ HERCULES _and_ MEGARA, _with the children_. + +CHORUS. + + ODE. + + I. + + Youth is light, and free from care + But now a burden on my head + Heavier than Ætna’s rock, old age, I bear. + Before these eyes its sable veil is spread. + Not for the wealth of Asiatic kings, + Or heaps of gold that touched yon roof sublime, + Ere would I barter life’s enchanting prime; + Hence wealth a brighter radiance flings, + And poverty itself can charm: + But thou, curst dotage, art the sum + Of every fancied, every real harm; + May’st thou be plunged beneath the deep, nor come + To peopled town, or civilized abode, + Go wing thy distant flight along th’ aërial road. + + I. 2. + + Did the gods with sapient care + Mete out their bounty to mankind, + The good, the gift of twofold youth should share + Unquestioned token of a virtuous mind, + Behold life’s son its blest career renew, + While the degenerate sleep to wake no more. + We by these means distinctly might explore + Their merits with as clear a view, + As sailors, who each starry spark + Enumerate that adorns the skies. + But now the gods have by no certain mark + Directed whom we for their worth should prize, + Whom shun as wicked: uninformed we live, + Revolving time hath nought but plenteous wealth to give. + + II. 1. + + Mindful of its ancient themes, + This faltering tongue shall ne’er refuse, + Oft as I wander by their haunted streams, + To blend each gentle grace and tuneful muse: + O may I dwell among the harmonious choirs, + My brows still circled with a laureate wreath! + Still shall the bard, a hoary veteran, breathe + The strains Mnemosuné inspires: + While memory wakes, I ne’er will cease + Th’ exploits of Hercules to sing; + Where Bromius yields the purple vine’s increase, + Where Libyan pipes and the lute’s sevenfold string + Are heard in dulcet unison; to praise + The Nine who aid the dance, I’ll wake my choral lays. + + II. 2. + + Delian virgins at the gate + Assembled, festive pæans sing, + The triumphs of Latona’s son relate, + And nimbly vaulting form their beauteous ring. + Into thy temple, by devotion led, + O Phœbus, will I raise my parting breath; + The swan thus warbles at the hour of death: + Though hoary hairs my cheeks o’erspread. + How great the hero’s generous love, + Whose merits aid our votive song, + Alcides the resistless son of Jove; + Those trophies, which to noble birth belong + By him are all surpassed, his forceful hand + Restoring peace, hath cleansed this monster-teeming land. + +LYCUS, AMPHITRYON, CHORUS. + + LYC. Forth from the portals at due season comes + Amphitryon; for ’tis long since ye were decked + In robes and trappings such as suit the dead. + But go, command the children and the wife + Of Hercules without these gates t’ appear, + Because ye have engaged that ye will die + By your own hands. + + AMP. You persecute, O king, + Me whom already fortune hath made wretched, + And with sharp taunts insult my dying race: + Although in power supreme, you ought to act + With moderation; but since you impose + This harsh necessity, we must submit, + And execute your will. + + LYC. Where’s Megara? + Where are the children of Alcmena’s son? + + AMP. To me she seems, as far as I can guess, + From looking through the door—— + + LYC. What grounds hast thou + For this opinion? + + AMP. In a suppliant posture + To sit before the Lares. + + LYC. And implore them + With unavailing plaints to save her life. + + AMP. In vain too calls she on her lord deceased. + + LYC. But he is absent, he can ne’er return. + + AMP. Unless some god should raise him up again. + + LYC. Go thou, and from the palace lead her hither. + + AMP. ’Twould make me an accomplice in the murder, + If this I acted. + + LYC. Since thy soul recoils, + I, whom such idle scruples cannot move, + Will with their mother bring the children forth. + Follow my steps, my servants, that at length + We may behold sweet peace succeed our toils. + + [_Exit_ LYCUS. + + AMP. Depart: for to that place the Fates ordain + You now are on the road; perhaps the sequel + Will be another’s province: but expect, + Since you have done amiss, to suffer vengeance. + He, O ye veterans, at a lucky hour + Enters the palace, for on ambushed swords + His feet will stumble, while the villain hopes + Those he would murder are too near at hand + To ’scape: but I will go to see him fall + A breathless corse: for when our foe endures + The just requital of his impious deeds, + There is a joy resulting from his death. + + [_Exit_ AMPHITRYON. + + CHOR. Changed are our evil fortunes. To the shades + He who was erst a mighty king descends. + O justice, and ye dread vicissitudes + Of fate, ordained by Heaven! + + 1st SEMICHOR. Thou art at length + Gone thither, where by death thou for those taunts, + With which thou o’er the virtuous didst exult, + Shalt make atonement. + + 2nd SEMICHOR. My delight bursts forth + In floods of tears: for now is come that day + The tyrant deemed would never visit him. + + 1st SEMICHOR. But let us also look into the palace, + My aged friend, and mark if yonder miscreant + Be punished as I wish. + + LYC. [_within._] Ah me! ah me! + + CHOR. That melody most grateful to mine ear + Beneath yon roofs commences; nor is death + Far distant; for these cries the monarch utters + Are but a prelude to the fatal stroke. + + LYC. [_within._] Ye realms of Cadmus, I through treachery perish! + + 2nd SEMICHOR. Others have perished by that bloody hand. + Since then the retribution thou endur’st + Is just, endure it bravely. + + 1st SEMICHOR. Where is he + Who uttered ’gainst the blest immortal powers + His foolish blasphemies, and called the gods + Too weak to punish him? + + 2nd SEMICHOR. That impious man + Is now no more. Yon vaulted roofs are silent, + Let us begin the harmonious choral lay; + For, as I wished, our comrades prove victorious. + +CHORUS. + + ODE. + + I. 1. + + The sumptuous banquet, with th’ enlivening dance + Now every Theban shall employ; + Dried are our tears, and past mischance + Yields to the lyre abundant themes of joy: + Stretched low in dust the tyrant lies; + But he, who by an ancient right + Obtains the sceptre, is our king; + From Acheron’s loathed stream behold him rise, + Revisiting the cheerful realms of light, + And hope, unlooked for, doth fresh transports bring. + + I. 2. + + The gods take cognizance of broken trust, + Nor are they deaf to holy prayer. + On gold and fortune, power unjust + Attends; man’s reason is too weak to bear + The joint temptations. Heaven at length, + Whose kind protection we invoke, + Deigning with pity to behold + Our woes, to the neglected laws their strength + Restoring, with vindictive fury broke + The sable car which bore the god of gold. + + II. 1. + + Now let the flowery wreath, the victor’s pride, + Adorn Ismenos; let each street employ + The hours in dance and social joy; + Let Dirce from the silver wave arise, + And old Asopus’ daughters by her side, + Forsaking their paternal stream, + Conspire to aid our rapturous theme, + And for Alcides claim the victor’s prize. + Ye Pythian rocks, with waving forests crowned, + And seats of Helicon’s melodious choir, + Come every nymph, with cheerful sound, + Visit these walls which to the clouds aspire; + In helmed crop here warriors filled the plains. + Whose lineage undecayed from age to age remains. + + II. 2. + + O ye, the partners of one nuptial bed, + Happy Amphitryon, sprung from mortal race, + And Jove, who rushed to the embrace + Of bright Alcmena; for of thee aright, + Though erst, O Jove, I doubted, was it said + Thou didst enjoy that beauteous dame; + With the renown his triumphs claim, + Time through the world displays Alcides’ might, + Emerged from grisly Pluto’s realms abhorred, + Who quits the darksome caverns of the earth, + To me a far more welcome lord, + Than yon vile tyrant of ignoble birth. + Now to the bloody strife we lift our eyes; + The vengeful sword is bared, if Justice haunt the skies. + + SEMICHOR. Ha! are we all by the same panic seized? + My aged friends, what spectre, hovering o’er + The palace, do I see? Those tardy feet + Raise from the ground, precipitate thy flight, + Be gone.—From me, O Pæan, mighty king, + Avert these evils. + +IRIS, A FIEND, CHORUS. + + IRIS. O, ye aged men, + Be not dismayed: the fiend whom ye behold + Is daughter of old Night, and I am Iris, + The gods’ ambassadress. We are not come + To harm your city; for we only war + Against one man, who, sprung ’tis said from Jove + And from Alcmena: till he had performed + Severest labours, fate preserved his life; + Nor did his father Jove permit, or me, + Or Juno, e’er to hurt him: but, each toil + Eurystheus’ hate enjoined, now he hath finished, + Those oft-polluted hands with recent gore + Will Juno stain, by urging him to slay + His children: in this scheme I too conspire. + Come on then, armed with a relentless heart, + Unwedded daughter of the pitchy Night; + Instil into that hero’s breast such frenzy + As shall o’erturn his reason, and constrain him + To perpetrate this murder; his wild steps + Goad onward, throw the bloody cable forth, + That having sent this band of graceful sons, + Slain by their father’s arm, adown the gulf + Of Acheron, th’ effects of Juno’s wrath + And mine, he may experience; for the gods + Would be mere things of no account, but great + Would be the power of man, if he escaped + Unpunished. + + FIEND. I from noble parents spring, + Night is my mother; and that blood which streamed + From the foul wound of Ouranus, my sire: + To me belongs this praise, I ’gainst my friend + No envious rancour feel, nor with delight + Invade them; but this counsel would suggest + To you and Juno, ere I see you rush + Into a fatal error, if my words + Can move you: he into whose house you send me + Is not obscure, or in the realms beneath, + Or yet among the gods: for when o’er lands, + Impervious erst, and o’er the stormy waves, + He had established peace, he to the gods + Their ancient honours, which by impious men + Had been abolished, singly did restore. + I therefore would dissuade you from contriving + ’Gainst him these mischiefs. + + IRIS. Blame not thou the schemes + Devised by Juno and by me. + + FIEND. Your steps + Into a better path, from that which leads + To evil, would I turn. + + IRIS. The wife of Jove + Sent thee not hither to act thus discreetly. + + FIEND. Witness, thou sun, reluctant I obey. + But if constrained to be the instrument + Of Juno’s wrath and yours, I with such speed + As when the hounds obey the huntsman’s voice, + Your signal will attend; nor shall the deep + Upheaving with a groan its troubled waves, + The earthquake, or the thunderbolt, whose blast + Is winged with fate, outstrip me, when I rush + Into the breast of Hercules: the gates + Will I burst open, and assail the house, + First causing his devoted sons to bleed; + Nor shall their murderer know that his own hand + Slew those whom he begot, till he is rescued + From the distraction I inspire. Behold + He at the barrier stands, and shakes his head, + And rolls in silence his distorted eyes, + Flaming with anger. To contain his breath + No longer able, like a bull, prepared + To make the terrible assault, he bellows, + And calls the Furies from the dire abyss + Of Tartarus. Thee I to a greater height + Of frenzy soon will rouse, and through thy soul + Cause my terrific clarion to resound. + O noble Iris, to Olympus’ height + Now wing your swift career, while I, unseen, + Will enter the abodes of Hercules. + + [_Exeunt_ IRIS _and the_ FIEND. + + CHOR. Thou city, groan; thy choicest flower, + The son of Jove, is cropped: O Greece, + Thy benefactor’s fatal hour + Impends. To thee for ever lost, + Assailed by that infernal pest, + The dauntless chief, deprived of peace, + Shall feel his agonizing breast + With horrible distraction tossed. + Hence in her brazen chariot went + The raging fiend, on mischief bent; + She urges with a scorpion goad + Her steeds along th’ ethereal road. + That hundred-headed child of Night. + With all those hissing snakes around, + From her envenomed eyeballs bright + The Gorgon thus directs the wound. + Soon changed by Heaven’s supreme decree, + Is man’s short-lived felicity. + Ye infants, soon shall ye expire, + Slain by your own distracted sire. + Ah me! thy son, without delay, + Shall be left childless, mighty Jove; + For on his tortured soul shall prey + Yon fiend, and by the powers above + Vengeance commissioned to destroy. + O mansion erst the scene of joy! + To form a prelude to this dance, + Neither the cheering timbrel’s sound, + Nor sportive Menades advance; + Here human gore shall stream around, + Instead of that refreshing juice, + Which Bacchus’ purple grapes produce. + Away, ye children, danger’s nigh, + For he who wakes this hostile strain, + Traces your footsteps as ye fly; + Nor will the fiend with fruitless rage, + A war beneath those mansions wage. + Alas! we sink o’erwhelmed with woe, + My tears shall never cease to flow. + I wail the grandsire hoar with age, + The mother too who bore that train + Of lovely children, but in vain. + Lo, what a tempest shakes the wall, + And makes th’ uprooted mansion fall! + What mean’st thou, frantic son of Jove? + The hellish uproar thou dost raise, + Filling the palace with amaze, + Is such as vexed the realms above, + Till issuing with victorious might, + Pallas invincible in fight + The huge Enceladus oppressed, + And piled all Ætna on his breast. + +MESSENGER, CHORUS. + + MES. O ye whose heads are whitened o’er with age! + + CHOR. Why dost thou call me with so loud a voice? + + MES. Atrocious are the mischiefs which have happened + Within the palace. + + CHOR. I need now call in + No other seer. The boys are slain. Ah me! + + MES. Indulge your groans, for such events as these + Demand them. + + CHOR. By a foe, e’en by the hand + Of their own sire, in whom that foe they found. + + MES. No tongue can utter woes beyond what we + Have suffered. + + CHOR. What account hast thou to give + Of the dire fate the father on his sons + Inflicted? Sent by the avenging gods, + Say why such mischiefs visited this house, + And how the children miserably fell. + + MES. To purify the house were victims brought + Before Jove’s altar, after Hercules + Had slain and cast the monarch of this land + Forth from these doors. Beside the victor stood + His band of graceful children, with his sire + And Megara. The sacred vase was borne + Around the altar: from ill-omened words + We all abstained. But while Alcmena’s son + In his right hand a kindled torch sustained, + Ready to dip it in the lustral water, + He made a silent stand; on this delay + The children steadfastly observed their sire, + But he no longer was the same; his eyes + Were seized with strong convulsions, from their fibres + Blood started forth, his bearded cheeks with foam + Were covered: he midst bursts of laughter wild + Cried: “Wherefore need I kindle, O my father, + The fire for sacrifice, ere I have slain + Eurystheus, in a double toil engaged, + When I at once might better finish all? + Soon as I hither bring Eurystheus’ head, + These hands which reek already with the gore + Of Lycus, will I cleanse. Pour forth those waters + Upon the ground, and cast your urns away. + Who brings my bow, my club? I to Mycene + Will go: let spades and levers be prepared, + That I from their foundations may o’erturn + Those walls which with the plummet and the line + The Cyclops reared.” Then eager to depart, + Although he had no chariot, yet he talked + As if he had one, fancying that he mounted + The seat, and with his hand as with a thong + Drove the ideal steeds. His servants laughed, + And at the same time trembled; till one cried + (As on each other they with eager eyes + Were gazing), “Doth my master sport with us, + Or is he frantic?” Meanwhile through the palace + Backward and forward he with hasty step + Was walking: but no sooner did he reach + That spacious hall, where at the genial board + The men are wont t’ assemble, than he said + That he was come to Nisus’ ancient city, + And to th’ imperial dome: and on the floor, + As if reclining at the genial board, + Bade us set forth the banquet. But the pause + Which intervened was short, ere he exclaimed, + That he was traversing the Isthmian rocks + O’ergrown with woods; then casting off his mantle + He strove though there was no antagonist + With whom to strive, proclaimed himself the victor, + The name of that imaginary foe + Announcing, over whom he had prevailed: + But ’gainst Eurystheus he anon did utter + Menaces the most horrible, and talk + As if he at Mycene had been present. + His father strove to hold his vigorous arm, + And said to him; “What mean you, O my son? + What wanderings into distant realms are these? + Hath not the blood of him you have just slain + Distracted you?” Then for Eurystheus’ sire + Mistaking his own father, as he strove + To touch his hand, repelled the trembling suppliant: + Against his sons, the quiver and the bow, + Thinking to slay the children of Eurystheus, + He next made ready; they with terror smitten + Ran different ways; the first beneath the robes + Of his unhappy mother skulked; a second + Flew to the shade the lofty column formed: + Under the altar quivering like a bird, + The last concealed himself: their mother cried, + “What mean’st thou, O thou father, would’st thou slay + Thy sons?” Amphitryon too, that aged man, + And all the servants shrieked. But round the pillar + The boy pursuing, he at length turned short, + And meeting him, as foot to foot they stood, + Transfixed his liver with a deadly shaft; + Supine he fell, and with his streaming gore + Distained the sculptured pillars, at whose base + He breathed his last. But, with a shout, Alcides + Uttered these boasts: “One of Eurystheus’ brood + Slain by this arm, for the inveterate hate + His father bore me, to atone, here lies + A breathless corse.” Against another then, + Who to the basis of the altar fled, + And hoped to ’scape unseen, he bent his bow; + But ere he gave the wound, the wretched youth + Fell at his father’s knees, stretched forth his hands + To touch his chin, or twine around his neck, + And cried: “O spare my life, my dearest sire, + Yours, I am yours indeed; nor will you slay + Eurystheus’ son.” But he with glaring eyes + Looked like a Gorgon, while the boy pressed on + So close, he had no scope to aim the shaft, + But as the smith the glowing anvil smites, + Full on his auburn tresses he discharged + The ponderous mace, the crashing bones gave way. + Scarce had he slain the second, when he ran + To butcher his third son o’er both their corses: + But the unhappy mother in her arms + Caught up, into an inner chamber bore + The child, and closed the doors: but he, as if + He had indeed been at the Cyclops’ city, + With levers from their hinges forced them, pierced + His wife and offspring with a single shaft, + And then to slay his aged father rushed + With speed impetuous: but a spectre came, + Which to our eyes the awful semblance bore + Of Pallas brandishing her pointed spear, + And threw a rocky fragment at the breast + Of Hercules, which checked his murderous frenzy, + And plunged him into sleep. Upon the ground + Headlong he fell, where ’midst the ruins lay, + Rent from its pedestal a broken column: + But rallying from our flight, we, by his sire + Assisted, to the pillar bound him fast + With thongs, that on his wakening from this trance + He might commit no more atrocious deeds. + There doth he taste an inauspicious sleep, + First having slain his children and his consort. + I know no mortal more completely wretched. + + [_Exit_ MESSENGER. + + CHOR. There was a murder in the Argive land + Most wondrous and unparalleled through Greece + In days of yore, which the confederate daughters + Of Danaus perpetrated; but their crimes + By the dire fate of Progne’s only son + Were far surpassed. I of a bloody deed + Now speak which they committed, they whose voice + Equals the Muses’ choir; but thou who spring’st + From Jove himself, hast in thy frenzy slain + All thy three sons; for them what groans, what tears, + What invocations to the shades beneath, + Or songs shall I prepare to soothe the rage + Of grisly Pluto? Shivered on the ground + The portals of that lofty mansion view, + Behold the corses of the children stretcht + Before their miserable sire, whose senses, + Since he hath slain them, in profoundest sleep + Are buried. Mark those knotty cords around + The brawny limbs of Hercules, entwined + And to the columns in the palace fixed. + But old Amphitryon, like a bird who wails + Over its callow brood, with tardy step + Comes hither in the bitterness of grief. + +AMPHITRYON, CHORUS. + + _The Palace gates thrown open, discover_ HERCULES + _stretched on the ground and sleeping_. + + AMP. Ye aged Thebans, will ye not be silent, + Will ye not suffer him dissolved in sleep + His miseries to forget? + + CHOR. These tears, these groans, + To you, O venerable man, I pay, + To those slain children, and the chief renowned + For his victorious conflicts. + + AMP. Farther still + Retire; forbear, forbear those clamorous sounds, + Lest his repose ye break, and from a trance + The sleeper rouse. + + CHOR. How dreadful was this slaughter! + + AMP. Ha! ha! begone, for he in wild confusion + Is starting up. Why will ye not lament, + Ye aged men, in a more gentle tone? + Lest roused from sleep he burst his chains, destroy + The city, smite his sire, and with the ground + Lay these proud mansions level. + + CHOR. This I hold + Impossible. + + AMP. Be silent, I will mark + Whether he breathe: O let me place my ear + Still closer. + + CHOR. Sleeps he? + + AMP. An accursed repose, + Alas! he tastes, who hath his consort slain, + And slain his sons with that resounding bow. + + CHOR. Now wail. + + AMP. I wail those children’s fate. + + CHOR. Your son, + Alas! old man, our equal pity claims. + + AMP. Observe strict silence, for again he rises + And turns around: I will conceal myself + Beneath that roof. + + CHOR. Be of good cheer: night seals + The eyelids of your son. + + AMP. Mark, mark me well, + I am so wretched that without reluctance + I can bid life adieu: but if he kill + Me too who am his father, guilt on guilt + Shall he accumulate, and join the stings + Of parricide to those which from the Furies + Who haunt him, he already doth endure. + + CHOR. Better you then had died, when you prepared + T’ avenge the slaughtered brothers of Alcmena, + And stormed the fortress of the Taphian isle. + + AMP. Fly, leave the palace instantly; avoid + That frantic man, who from his sleep is roused, + For adding soon fresh slaughter to the past, + With Bacchanalian transport shall he range + Through Cadmus’ city. + + CHOR. Why hast thou, O Jove, + Hated thy son so bitterly, and plunged him + Into this sea of troubles? + + HER. [_waking._] Ha! I breathe, + And view each wonted object, air, and earth, + And these bright solar beams. Into what storm, + What dreadful perturbation of the soul + Have I been plunged! all heated I transpire, + Not from my lungs, but from my feverish heart. + Behold me! wherefore am I bound with chains, + Like a disabled ship towed into haven, + And by this youthful chest and nervous arm + Joined to a broken pillar? Here I sit + Contiguous to the corses of the slain; + My winged shafts lie scattered on the ground, + With that unerring bow which erst I bore + In war to guard me, and with care preserved. + Sent by Eurystheus, am I then arrived + A second time at the drear shades beneath? + Neither the rock of Sisyphus, nor Pluto, + Nor Ceres’ sceptred daughter, do I see. + I sure am stricken senseless with amazement, + And know not where I am. But ho! what friend + Is near, or at a distance, who will come + To give me information? For each object + Which I was erst acquainted with seems strange. + + AMP. Shall I approach this scene of my afflictions + Ye aged men? + + CHOR. I will attend your steps, + Nor meanly in calamity betray you. + + HER. Why dost thou weep, my sire, and veil those eyes, + Retiring far from thy beloved son? + + AMP. My son—for though unhappy, you are mine. + + HER. But what calamity do I endure + That causes thee to shed these tears? + + AMP. Your woes + Are such, that any god, if he endured + The same, would groan. + + HER. This hath a dreadful sound: + But you, my fortunes have not yet explained. + + AMP. Because if you your senses have recovered, + Yourself behold them. + + HER. Tell me what thou mean’st— + If to my charge thou lay’st some recent crime. + + AMP. If you no longer to the powers of hell + Are subjected, the truth will I unfold. + + HER. Alas! how darkly thou again allud’st + To what my soul suspects. + + AMP. Your looks I watch + To see if reason wholly be restored. + + HER. I recollect not that I e’er was frantic. + + AMP. [_to the_ CHORUS.] + Shall I unbind the shackles of my son, + Or how must we proceed? + + HER. Say who was he + That bound me? for with scorn have I been treated. + + AMP. Thus much of your afflictions may you know: + Forbear all farther questions. + + HER. Is thy silence + Sufficient then to teach me what I wish + To learn? + + AMP. O Jove, dost thou behold the curses + Hurled on thy son from envious Juno’s throne? + + HER. What dire effects of her inveterate rage + Have I endured? + + AMP. Of that vindictive goddess + No longer think: but to your own afflictions + Attend. + + HER. Alas! I utterly am ruined! + What farther ill wouldst thou disclose? + + AMP. See there + The corses of your murdered children lie. + + HER. Alas! what dreadful objects strike these eyes! + + AMP. My son, against your progeny you waged + An inauspicious war. + + HER. Why talk of war? + Who slew them? + + AMP. You, your arrows, and the cause + Of all these mischiefs, that remorseless goddess. + + HER. What mean’st thou, or what crime have I committed, + My father, O thou messenger of ill? + + AMP. By frenzy urged. But you such questions ask, + As I with grief must answer. + + HER. Have I murdered + My consort also? + + AMP. All these deeds of horror + That single arm did perpetrate. + + HER. Alas! + A cloud of griefs surrounds me. + + AMP. For this cause + Your fortunes I lament. + + HER. Have I demolished + My own house too, with Bacchanalian rage + Inspired? + + AMP. The whole of what I know amounts + To this, that you are most completely wretched. + + HER. Where did this fatal madness seize me first? + + AMP. As round the altar, you, a flaming brand, + To expiate the foul murder which distains + Your hands, were bearing. + + HER. Ah! why lengthen out + A guilty life, when of my dearest children + I am become the murderer? Why delay + To leap from the high rock, or with a sword + Transpierce this bosom, on myself their blood + Avenging? or t’ avert that infamy + Which waits me, shall I rush into the flames? + But Theseus comes to bar these desperate counsels, + My kinsman and my friend; in a true light + To him shall I appear, and the pollution + I have incurred by slaying my own sons + Will be conspicuous to my dearest comrade. + What shall I do? or where can I find out + A solitude impervious to my woes? + On rapid wings, O could I mount, or plunge + Into the nether regions of the earth? + Give me a veil to darken o’er my head. + For ’tis with shame I think on the offence + Caused by this deed: but to myself alone + Ascribing the defilement of their blood, + I wish not to contaminate the guiltless. + +THESEUS, AMPHITRYON, HERCULES, CHORUS. + + THE. An armed squadron of Athenian youths + I hither bring, who near Asopus’ stream + Are stationed to assist your son in battle. + For to the city of Erectheus’ race + A rumour came, that Lycus, having seized + The sceptre of this land, is waging war + ’Gainst you. O aged man, I to repay + The benefits which Hercules conferred + On me, whom from the deary shades beneath + In safety he redeemed, on your behalf + Attend, if of this arm, or of my troops, + Ye need the help. But, ha, what means the floor + With weltering corses heaped? hath my design + Proved ineffectual? am I then arrived + Too late to remedy the dreadful mischiefs + Which have already ta’en effect? who slew + Those children, or whose consort was the dame + Whom I behold? for where the boys are laid, + No signs appear of any battle fought: + But sure I of some other recent ill + Now make discovery. + + AMP. O thou goddess, throned + Upon that hill where verdant olives spring. + + THE. Why speak you to me in this piteous tone, + And with such prelude? + + AMP. Grievous are the ills + Which we endure through Heaven’s severe behest. + + THE. What boys are they o’er whose remains you weep? + + AMP. Them did my miserable son beget, + And when begotten slay, this impious murder + He dared to perpetrate. + + THE. Express yourself + In more auspicious terms. + + AMP. I wish t’ obey + Th’ injunctions thou hast given. + + THE. What dreadful words + Are these which you have uttered? + + AMP. In a moment + Were we undone. + + THE. What mean you, what hath happened? + + AMP. This frenzy seized him sprinkled with the venom, + Which from the hundred-headed hydra flowed. + + THE. Such Juno’s wrath. But who, O aged man, + Stands ’mong the dead? + + AMP. My son, my valiant son, + Inured to many toils, who in that war + Where earth’s gigantic brood were slain, advanced + Among the gods to the Phlegræan field + Armed with his buckler. + + THE. Ah, what mighty chief + Was e’er so wretched? + + AMP. Scarcely shalt thou know + A man with greater labours vexed, and doomed + To wander through more regions. + + THE. But why veils he + Beneath that robe his miserable head? + + AMP. Because thy presence, friendship’s sacred ties + Added to those of kindred, and the gore + Of his slain children, fill his soul with shame. + + THE. I with his griefs am come to sympathize; + Uncover him. + + AMP. That garment from your eyes + Remove, display your visage to the sun. + It ill becomes my dignity to weep: + Yet I a suppliant strive to touch your beard, + Your knees, your hand, and shed these hoary tears. + O curb your soul, my son, whose fierceness equals + That of the lion, else ’twill hurry you + To bloody impious rage, and make you add + Mischiefs to mischiefs. + + THE. Ho! on thee I call, + On thee, who to that seat of misery seem’st + Fast riveted; permit thy friends to see + Thy face: for darkness hath no cloud so black + As to conceal thy woes. Why dost thou wave + Thy hand and point to those whom thou hast slain, + Lest by this converse I pollute myself? + I am not loth to share thy woes; I erst + Was happy (which my soul is ever bound + To recollect with gratitude) when thou + From hell’s loathed gloom, the mansion of the dead, + Didst safely bear me to the realms of light. + For I abhor th’ attachment of those friends + Which time impairs, him too who would enjoy + Their better fortunes, but refuse to sail + In the same bark with those who prove unblest. + Rise up, unveil thy miserable head + And look on me. A noble mind sustains + Without reluctance what the gods inflict. + + HER. Did you, O Theseus, see me slay my children? + + THE. I heard, and now behold the ills thou speak’st of. + + HER. Then why didst thou uncover to the sun + My guilty head? + + THE. Why not? canst thou, a man, + Pollute the gods? + + HER. Avaunt, O wretch, avaunt, + For I am all contagion. + + THE. To a friend + No mischief from his friend can be transmitted. + + HER. Your conduct I applaud, nor will deny + That I have served you. + + THE. I who erst received + Those favours at thy hands, now pity thee. + + HER. I am indeed an object of your pity, + From having slain my sons. + + THE. For thee I weep, + Because to me thou heretofore wert kind + When vexed by other ills. + + HER. Did you e’er meet + With those who were more wretched? + + THE. Thy afflictions + Are of such giant bulk, that they to heaven + Reach from this nether world. + + HER. Hence am I ready + For instant death. + + THE. Canst thou suppose the gods + Regard thy threats? + + HER. Self-willed are they and cruel, + And I defy the gods. + + THE. Restrain thy tongue, + Lest thou by uttering such presumptuous words + Increase thy sufferings. + + HER. I with woes am fraught + Already, nor remains there space for more. + + THE. But what design’st thou? whither art thou borne + With frantic rage? + + HER. In death will I return + To those abodes beneath, whence late I came. + + THE. Thou speak’st the language of a vulgar man. + + HER. Exempt from all calamity yourself, + On me these admonitions you bestow. + + THE. Are these fit words for Hercules to use, + Who many toils endured? + + HER. I had not suffered + Thus much, if any bounds had circumscribed + My labours. + + THE. Benefactor of mankind, + And their great friend? + + HER. From them no aid I find; + But Juno triumphs. + + THE. Greece will not permit thee + To perish unregarded. + + HER. Hear me now, + That I with reason your advice may combat; + To you will I explain both why it is + And long hath been impossible for me + To live; and first, because from him, I spring, + Who, having slain the father of Alcmena, + Defiled with murder, wedded her who bore me. + When thus the basis of a family + Is laid in guilt, the children must be wretched. + But Jove (or some one who assumed the name + Of Jove) begot me; hence to Juno’s hate + Was I obnoxious. Yet, O let not this + Offend thine ear, old man, for thee, not Jove, + I deem my real sire. While yet I hung + An infant at the breast, Jove’s wife by stealth + Sent snakes into my cradle to destroy me. + But after I attained the bloom of manhood, + Of what avail were it, should I recount + The various labours I endured, what lions, + What typhons with a triple form, what giants, + Or what four-footed centaurs, who in crowds + Rushed to the battle, by this arm were slain? + How I despatched the hydra too, that monster + With heads surrounded, branching out anew, + And having suffered many toils beside, + Went to the mansions of the dead, to bring + Hell’s triple-headed dog into the realms + Of light, for thus Eurystheus had enjoined? + But I at last, wretch that I am, this murder + Did perpetrate, and my own children slay, + That to their utmost summit I might raise + The miseries of this house. My fate is such + That in my native Thebes I must not dwell: + But if I here continue, to what temple + Or friends can I repair? for by such curses + I now am visited, that none will dare + To speak to me. To Argos shall I go? + How can I, when my country drives me forth? + To any other city should I fly, + The consequence were this: with looks askance + I should be viewed as one well known, and harassed + With these reproaches by malignant tongues: + “Is not this he, the son of Jove, who murdered + His children and his consort? from this land + Shall not th’ accursed miscreant be expelled?” + To him who was called happy once, such change + Is bitterness indeed: as for the man + Whose sufferings are perpetual, him, when wretched, + No kinsman pities. I to such a pitch + Of woe shall come, I deem, at length, that earth, + Uttering a voice indignant, will forbid me + To touch its surface, ocean, o’er its waves, + And every river, o’er its streams, to pass. + I shall be like Ixion then, with chains + Fixed to the wheel. ’Twere better that no Greek + With whom I in my happier days conversed + Should see me more. What motive can I have + For living? or to me of what avail + Were it to keep possession of this useless + And this unholy being? flushed with joy, + Let Jove’s illustrious consort, in the dance, + Strike with her sandals the resplendent floor + Of high Olympus: for she now hath gained + Her utmost wish, and from his basis torn + The first of Grecian warriors. Who can pray + To such a goddess, who, with envy stung, + Because Jove loved a woman, hath destroyed + The benefactors of the Grecian realm, + Those blameless objects of her hate? + + THE. This mischief + Springs from no god except the wife of Jove. + Well dost thou judge, in saying that ’tis easier + To give thee wholesome counsel, than endure + Such agonies. But no man ’scapes unwounded + By fortune, and no god; unless the songs + Of ancient bards mislead. Have not the gods + Among themselves formed lawless marriages? + Have they not bound in ignominious chains + Their fathers, to obtain a throne? In heaven + Yet dwell they, and bear up beneath the load + Of all their crimes. But what canst thou allege, + If thou, frail mortal as thou art, those ills + Immoderately bewail’st to which the gods + Without reluctance yield? from Thebes retire, + Since thus the laws ordain; and follow me + To Pallas’ city: when thy hands are there + Cleansed from pollution, I to thee will give + A palace, and with thee divide my wealth. + The presents which the citizens to me + Appropriated, when twice seven blooming victims + I by the slaughter of the Cretan bull + Redeemed, on thee will I bestow. For portions + Of land are through the realm to me assigned: + These, while thou liv’st henceforth shall by thy name + Be called: but after death, when to the shades + Of Pluto thou descend’st, with sacrifice + And with the sculptured tomb, shall Athens grace + Thy memory. For her citizens have gained + This fairest wreath from every Grecian state, + By yielding succour to the virtuous man + Their glories are augmented: and to thee + Will I repay with gratitude the kindness + Which thou deserv’st for saving me; for thou + Hast need of friends at present: but no friend + Is wanted when the gods confer renown; + For, if he wills, Jove’s aid is all-sufficient. + + HER. You hold a language foreign to my griefs. + But I suppose not that the gods delight + In lawless nuptials, that their hands are bound + With galling chains, nor did I e’er believe, + Nor can I be convinced, that one bears rule + Over another. For a deity + If he be truly such, can stand in need + Of no support. But by some lying bard + Those miserable fables were devised. + Although I am most wretched, yet I thought + I might be charged with cowardice for leaving + These realms of light. For he who bears not up + ’Gainst adverse fortune, never can withstand + The weapon of his foe. I am resolved + To wait for death with firmness: to your city + Meantime will I retreat, and am most grateful + For your unnumbered gifts. Unnumbered labours + Have I been erst acquainted with; from none + Did I e’er shrink, these eyes did never stream + With tears, nor thought I that I e’er should come + To such a pitch of meanness as to weep: + But now, it seems, must Fortune be obeyed. + I am content. Thou, O my aged sire, + Behold’st my exile, thou in me behold’st + The murderer of my children: to the tomb + Consign their corses with funereal pomp, + And o’er them shed the tributary tear: + For me the laws allow not to perform + This office. Let their mother, e’en in death, + Clasp to her breast, and in her arms sustain, + Our wretched offspring, whom in evil hour + I slew reluctant. But when thou with earth + Hast covered them, thy residence still keep + Here in this city, miserably indeed, + Yet on thy soul lay this constraint, to bear + With me the woes which I most deeply feel. + The very sire, ye children, who begot, + Murdered you; no advantage ye derive + From what this arm by all my labours gained, + And from your father’s triumphs no renown. + Have not I slain thee too who didst preserve + My bed inviolate, and o’er my house + Long watch with patient care? Ah me! my wife, + My sons: but how much more to be lamented + Am I myself, from them for ever torn? + Ye melancholy joys of kisses lavished + On their remains, and ye my loathed companions, + The weapons which I still retain, but doubt + Whether to keep or dash them to the ground; + For they, while at my side they hang, will seem + To utter these reproachful words: “With us + Thy consort and thy children hast thou slain, + Yet thou the very instruments preserv’st + Which were their murderers.” After such a charge + Can I still bear them? what can I allege? + But stripping off those arms with which through Greece + I have achieved full many glorious deeds, + Shall I expose myself to those who hate me, + And die ignobly? I must not abandon + But keep them still, though sorrowing. Aid me, Theseus, + In this one enterprise; to Argos go + And for your friend obtain the great reward + Promised for dragging from the shades of hell + That execrable hound: lest if by you + Deserted, I through grief for my slain children + Should come to some calamitous end. Thou realm + Of Cadmus, and ye citizens of Thebes, + With tresses shorn, in concert weep; the tomb + Of my slain children visit, there bewail, + In one funereal dirge, the dead, and me; + For smitten with the same dire scourge of fate + By Juno, we all perish. + + THE. Hapless man, + Arise; enough of tears. + + HER. I cannot rise, + These limbs are now grown stiff. + + THE. Calamity + Subdues the valiant. + + HER. Would I were a stone, + Insensible to sufferings! + + THE. Cease these plaints; + And to the friend who comes to serve thee, give + Thy hand. + + HER. But let me not wipe off the blood + Upon your garments. + + THE. Wipe it off, nor scruple, + For I object not. + + HER. Of my sons bereft, + In you the likeness of a son I find. + + THE. Fling round my neck thine arm: I’ll lead the way. + + HER. A pair of friends: though one of us be wretched. + Such, O my aged father, is the man + We ought to make a friend. + + THE. His native realm + Produces an illustrious progeny. + + HER. Turn me around, that I may see my sons. + + THE. Hoping such philtre may thy griefs appease. + + HER. This earnestly I wish for, and would clasp + My father to this bosom. + + AMP. Here, lo, here! + For what my son desires, to me is grateful. + + THE. Of all the labours thou didst erst achieve, + Hast thou thus lost the memory? + + HER. All those ills + Were less severe than what I now experience. + + THE. Should any one behold thee grown unmanly, + He could not praise thee. + + HER. Though to you I seem + Degraded to an abject life, I trust + That I my former courage shall resume. + + THE. Where now is the illustrious Hercules? + + HER. What had you been, if still you in the shades + Had miserably dwelt? + + THE. Then sunk my courage + Beneath the meanest of the human race. + + HER. Why then persist in saying that my woes + Have quite subdued me? + + THE. Onward! + + HER. Good old man, + Farewell. + + AMP. Farewell too, O my son. + + HER. My children + Inter as I directed. + + AMP. O, my son, + But who will bury me? + + HER. I. + + AMP. When will you + Come hither? + + HER. After thou hast for my children + Performed that pious office. + + AMP. How? + + HER. I’ll fetch thee + From Thebes to Athens.—Bear into the palace + My children’s corses which pollute the ground. + But as for me, who have disgraced and plunged + My house in ruin, I will follow Theseus, + Towed like a battered skiff. Whoe’er prefers + Wealth or dominion to a steadfast friend, + Judges amiss. + + CHOR. Most wretched, drowned in tears, + Reft of our great protector, we depart. + + + + +THE CHILDREN OF HERCULES. + + +PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. + + IOLAUS. + COPREUS. + CHORUS OF ATHENIAN OLD MEN. + DEMOPHOON. + MACARIA. + ALCMENA. + MESSENGER. + EURYSTHEUS. + + +SCENE.—BEFORE THE ALTAR OF JUPITER, IN THE FORUM AT MARATHON, A CITY IN +THE ATHENIAN DOMINIONS. + +IOLAUS. + + Long have I held this sentiment: the just + Are born the streams of bounty to diffuse + On all around them; while the man whose soul + Is warped by interest, useless in the State, + Untractable and harsh to every friend, + Lives only for himself; in words alone + This doctrine I imbibed not. Through a sense + Of virtuous shame and reverence for my kindred + When I in peace at Argos might have dwelt, + I singly shared the toils of Hercules, + While he on earth remained; but now he dwells + In heaven, I guard his children, though protection + Be what I need myself. For when their sire + Forsook this nether world, Eurystheus strove + Immediately to slay us; but I ’scaped + From that oppressor’s fangs, and though to me + Lost is my country, I have saved my life. + But we poor vagabonds, from city fly + To some fresh city, ever forced to change + Our dwelling; for Eurystheus deems it meet + To add this wrong to former wrongs, he sends + His heralds wheresoe’er he hears we settle, + And claims and drives us forth from every land; + No slight resentment from the Argive realm + Against our friends denouncing, he reminds them + Of his own prosperous fortunes; when they see + My weakness, and these little ones bereft + Of their great father, to superior might + They crouch, and force the suppliant to depart. + But with the exiled race of Hercules + A voluntary exile, I partake + Their evil fortunes, steadfastly resolved + Not to betray them; by malignant tongues + It never shall be said, “Oh, mark these orphans! + Since their sire’s death their kinsman Iolaus + Protects them not.” But, exiled from all Greece, + On reaching Marathon and the domain + Subject to the same rulers, here we sit + Before the altars of the gods, and sue + For their assistance. In this region dwell + Two sons of Theseus, I am told, by lot + Who portion out this realm, they from Pandion + Descend, and to these children are allied. + We therefore undertook our present journey + To the Athenian realm; two aged guides + Conduct the hapless wanderers; my attention + Is to the boys devoted; but Alcmena, + Entering the adjacent temple, in her arms + Tenderly clasps the female progeny + Of her departed son. Amid the crowd + We fear to introduce these tender virgins, + Or place them at the altars of the gods. + But Hyllus and his brothers, more mature + In years, inquire in what far distant land + A fortress for our future residence + We yet can find, if we from these domains + By force should be expelled. My sons, come hither, + Cling to this garment; for to us I see + Eurystheus’ herald coming, by whose hate, + We wanderers, banished from each friendly realm, + Are still pursued. Thou, execrable miscreant, + Perish thyself, and perish he who sent thee: + For to the noble father of these children + Oft hath that tongue enjoined severest toils. + +COPREUS, IOLAUS. + + COP. What, think’st thou unmolested to enjoy + This pleasant seat, and have thy vagrant steps + Entered at length a city prompt to fight + Thy battles? for the man who will prefer + Thy feeble arm to that of great Eurystheus, + Exists not. Hence! why in these useless toils + Dost thou persist? thou must return to Argos + Where they have doomed thee to be stoned. + + IOL. Not thus: + For in this altar shall I find protection, + And this free country on whose soil we tread. + + COP. Wilt thou constrain me then to have recourse + To violence? + + IOL. With forceful hand, nor me + Nor these poor children shalt thou hence expel. + + COP. Ere long shalt thou perceive that thou hast uttered + Erroneous prophesies. + + IOL. This ne’er shall be + Long as I live. + + COP. Depart, for I will seize them + ’Gainst thy consent, and to Eurystheus’ power + Surrender up, for they to him belong. + + IOL. Aid me, ye ancient citizens of Athens, + For we, though suppliants, forcibly are torn + E’en from Jove’s public altar, and the wreaths + Twined round our sacred branches are polluted; + Shame to your city, insult to the gods. + +CHORUS, IOLAUS, COPREUS. + + CHOR. What clamorous voices from yon altars rise? + What mischiefs are impending? + + IOL. See a man + Burdened with age, wretch that I am! lie prostrate. + + CHOR. Who threw thee down? what execrable hand—— + + IOL. ’Tis he, O stranger, he who to your gods + Yielding no reverence, strives with impious force + E’en now, to drag me from this hallowed seat + Before Jove’s altar. + + CHOR. He! But from what land + Cam’st thou, old man, to this confederate state + Formed of four cities? From the distant coast + Of steep Eubœa did ye ply your oars? + + IOL. The life I lead, O stranger, is not that + Of vagrant islanders; but in your realm + From famed Mycene’s bulwarks I arrive. + + CHOR. Among thy countrymen, old man, what name + Thou bear’st, inform me. + + IOL. Ye perchance knew somewhat + Of Iolaus, great Alcides’ comrade, + A name not quite unnoticed by renown. + + CHOR. I formerly have heard of him: but say + Who is the father of that infant race, + Whom with thy arm thou guid’st? + + IOL. These are the sons + Of Hercules, O strangers, they, to you, + And to your city, humble suppliants come. + + CHOR. On what account, inform me; to demand + An audience of the state? + + IOL. That to their foes + They may not be surrendered up, nor torn + Forcibly from the altars of your gods, + And carried back to Argos. + + COP. But thy lords + Who bear rule over thee, and hither trace + Thy steps, will ne’er be satisfied with this. + + CHOR. O stranger, ’tis our duty to revere + The suppliants of the gods: with forceful hand + Shall no man drag thee from this holy spot, + This seat of the immortal powers; dread justice + Shall guard thee from the wrong. + + COP. Out of your land + The vagrant subjects of Eurystheus drive, + As I admonish; and this hand shall use + No violence. + + CHOR. How impious is that city + Which disregards the helpless stranger’s prayer! + + COP. ’Twere best to interfere not in these broils, + And to adopt some more expedient counsels. + + CHOR. You, therefore, to the monarch of this realm + Should have declared your errand, ere thus far + You had proceeded: but with brutal force + These strangers from the altars of the gods + Presume not to convey, and to this land + Of freedom yield due reverence. + + COP. But what king + Rules this domain and city? + + CHOR. Theseus’ son, + Renowned Demophoon. + + COP. Better I with him + This contest could decide: for all I yet + Have spoken, is but a mere waste of words. + + CHOR. Behold, he hither comes in haste, and with him, + To hear this cause, his brother Acamas. + +DEMOPHOON, IOLAUS, COPREUS, CHORUS. + + DEM. Since by thy speed, old man, thou hast outstripped + Thy juniors, and already reached the shrine + Of Jove, inform me what event hath caused + This multitude t’ assemble. + + CHOR. There the sons + Of Hercules in suppliant posture sit, + And with their wreaths, as you behold, O king, + Adorn the altar; that is Iolaus, + The faithful comrade of their valiant sire. + + DEM. How needed their distress these clamorous shrieks? + + CHOR. [_turning towards_ COPREUS.] + He raised the uproar, when by force he strove + To bear them hence, and on his knees, to earth + Threw the old man, till I for pity wept. + + DEM. Although he in the habit which he wears + Adopts the mode of Greece, such deeds as these + Speak the barbarian. But without delay + On thee it is incumbent now to tell me + The country whence thou cam’st. + + COP. I am an Argive; + Thus far to solve your question: but from whence + I come, and on what errand, will I add; + Mycene’s king, Eurystheus, sends me hither + To fetch these vagrants home: yet I, O stranger, + Will with abundant justice, in my actions, + As well as words, proceed; myself an Argive, + I bear away these Argives, I but seize + The fugitives who from my native land + Escaped, when by the laws which there prevail + They were ordained to bleed. We have a right, + Because we are the rulers of the city, + To execute the sentence we enact + ’Gainst our own subjects. To the sacred hearths + Of many other states when they repaired, + We urged the self-same reasons, and none ventured + To be the authors of their own destruction. + But haply they in you may have perceived + A foolish tenderness, and hither come, + Desperate themselves, you also to involve + In the same perils, whether they succeed + Or fail in the emprise: for they no hope + Can cherish, while you yet retain your reason, + That you alone, in all the wide extent + Of Greece, whose various regions they have traversed, + Should pity those calamities which rise + But from their own imprudence. Now compare + Th’ alternative proposed; by sheltering them + In these dominions, or allowing us + To bear them hence, what gain may you expect? + Side but with us, these benefits are yours: + Eurystheus’ self, and Argos’ numerous troops, + Will aid this city with their utmost might; + But if, by their seducing language moved, + Ye harbour groundless pity for their woes, + Arms must decide the strife. Nor vainly think + We will desist till we have fully tried + The temper of our swords. But what excuse + Have ye to plead? Of what domains bereft + Are ye provoked to wage a desperate war + With the Tirynthian Argives? What allies + Will aid you? What pretext can ye allege + To claim funereal honours for the slain? + The curses of your city will await + Such conduct; for the sake of that old man, + Whom I may justly call a tomb, a shadow, + And those unfriended children, should you step + Into the yawning gulf. Suppose the best + Which possibly can happen, that a prospect + Of future good hence rises; distant hopes + Fall short of present gain. In riper years + Ill can these youths be qualified to fight + Against the Argive host (if this elate + Your soul with hope), and ere that wished event + There is a length of intermediate time + In which ye may be ruined; but comply + With my advice; on me no gift bestow, + Let me but take what to ourselves belongs, + Mycene shall be yours. But oh, forbear + To act as ye are wont, nor form a league + With those of no account, when mightier friends + May be procured. + + DEM. Who can decide a cause + Or ascertain its merits till he hear + Both sides distinctly? + + IOL. In your land, O king, + This great advantage, freedom of reply + To the malignant charge against me urged, + I find, and no man, as from other cities, + Shall drive me hence. But we have nothing left + For which it now behoves us to contend + With him, nor aught, since that decree hath passed, + To do with Argos; from our native land + We are cast forth. In this distressful state, + How can he drag us back again with justice + As subjects of Mycene, to that realm + Which hath already banished us? We there + Are only foreigners. But why should he + Whom Argos dooms to exile, by all Greece + Be also exiled? Not by Athens sure; + For ne’er will Athens from its blest domains + Expel the race of Hercules, appalled + By Argos’ menaced wrath. For neither Trachis, + Nor is that city of Achaia here, + Whence thou by boasting of the might of Argos + In words like those which thou hast uttered now, + These suppliants didst unjustly drive away + Though seated at the altars. If thy threats + Here too prevail, no longer shall we find + Freedom, not e’en in Athens; but I know + Full well the generous temper of its sons, + And rather would they die. For to the brave + Shame is a load which renders life most hateful. + Enough of Athens—for immoderate praise + Becomes invidious; I remember too + How oft I have been heretofore distressed + By overstrained encomiums. But on you + How greatly ’tis incumbent to protect + These children will I show, since o’er this land + You rule; for Pittheus was the son of Pelops, + From Pittheus Æthra sprung, from Æthra Theseus + Your father; from your ancestors to those + Of your unhappy suppliants I proceed; + Alcides was the son of thundering Jove + And of Alcmena; from Lysidice, + Daughter of Pelops, did Alcmena spring, + One common grandsire gave your grandame birth, + And theirs; so near in blood are you to them; + But, O Demophoon, what beyond the ties + Of family you to these children owe + Will I inform you, and relate how erst + With Theseus in one bark I sailed, and bore + Their father’s shield, when we that belt, the cause + Of dreadful slaughter, sought; and from the caves + Of Pluto, Hercules led back your sire. + This truth all Greece attests. They in return + From you implore this boon, that to their foes + They may not be surrendered up, nor torn + By force from these your tutelary gods, + And banished from this realm. For to yourself + ’Twere infamous and baneful to your city + Should suppliants, exiles, sprung from ancestors + The same with yours (ah, miserable me! + Behold, behold them!) with a forceful arm + Be dragged away. But to your hands, and beard, + Lifting these hallowed branches, I entreat you + Slight not Alcides’ children, undertake + Their cause; and, oh, to them become a kinsman, + Become a friend, a father, brother, lord, + For better were it to admit these claims, + Than suffer them to fall beneath the rage + Of Argive tyrants. + + CHOR. I with pity heard + Their woes, O king, but now I clearly see + How noble birth to adverse fortune yields; + For though they spring from an illustrious sire, + Yet meet they with afflictions they deserve not. + + DEM. Three powerful motives urge me, while I view + The misery which attends you, not to spurn + These strangers; first dread Jove, before whose altars + You with these children sit; next kindred ties, + And services performed in ancient days, + Give them a claim to such relief from me + As from their godlike father mine obtained; + And last of all that infamy which most + I ought to loathe; for if I should permit + A foreigner this altar to despoil, + I in a land of freedom shall no longer + Appear to dwell, but to surrender up, + Through fear, the suppliants to their Argive lords, + In this extreme of danger. Would to heaven + You had arrived with happier auspices; + But tremble not lest any brutal hand + Should from this hallowed altar force away + You and the children. Therefore go thou back + To Argos, and this message to Eurystheus + Deliver; tell him too if there be aught + Which ’gainst our guests he can allege, the laws + Are open; but thou shalt not drag them hence. + + COP. Not if I prove that it is just, and bring + Prevailing reasons? + + DEM. How can it be just + To drive away the suppliant? + + COP. Hence no shame + Shall light on me, but ruin on your head. + + DEM. Should I permit thee to convey them hence + In me ’twere base indeed. + + COP. Let them be banished + From your domains, and I elsewhere will seize them. + + DEM. Thou fool, who deem’st thyself more wise than + Jove! + + COP. All villains may, it seems, take refuge here. + + DEM. This altar of the gods, to all affords + A sure asylum. + + COP. In a different light, + This to Mycene’s rulers will appear. + + DEM. Am not I then the monarch of this realm? + + COP. Offer no wrong to them, if you are wise. + + DEM. Do ye then suffer wrong when I refuse + To violate the temples of the gods? + + COP. I would not have you enter on a war + Against the Argives. + + DEM. Equally inclined + Am I to peace, yet will not I yield up + These suppliants. + + COP. Hence am I resolved to drag + Those who belong to me. + + DEM. Thou then to Argos + Shalt not with ease return. + + COP. Soon will I make + Th’ experiment and know. + + DEM. If thou presume + To touch them, thou immediately shalt rue it. + + COP. I by the gods conjure you not to strike + A herald. + + DEM. Strike I will, unless that herald + Learn to behave discreetly. + + CHOR. Go. And you, + O king, forbear to touch him. + + COP. I retire: + For weak in combat is a single arm. + But I again shall hither come, and bring + A host of Argives armed with brazen spears: + Unnumbered warriors wait for my return. + The king himself, Eurystheus, is their chief; + He on the borders of Alcathous’ realm + Waits for an answer. He in glittering mail, + Soon as he hears your arrogant reply, + To you, your subjects, this devoted realm, + And all its wasted forests will appear, + For we in vain at Argos should possess + A band so numerous of heroic youths, + If we chastised not your assuming pride. + + [_Exit_ COPREUS. + + DEM. Away, detested miscreant; for I fear not + Thy Argos: and thou ne’er, by dragging hence + These suppliants, shalt disgrace me: for this city + As an appendage to the Argive realm + I hold not, but its freedom will maintain. + + CHOR. ’Tis time each sage precaution to exert, + Ere to the confines of this land advance + The troops of Argos: for Mycene’s wrath + Is terrible in combat, and more fierce + Than heretofore will they invade us now. + For to exaggerate facts beyond the truth + Is every herald’s custom. To his king, + How many specious tales do you suppose + Of the atrocious insults he endured, + He will relate, and add how he the loss + Of life endangered? + + IOL. To the sons devolve + No honours which exceed the being born + Of an illustrious and heroic sire, + And wedding into virtuous families. + But on that man no praise will I bestow, + Who by his lusts impelled, among the wicked + A nuptial union forms; hence to his sons + Disgrace, instead of pleasure, he bequeaths. + For noble birth repels adversity + Better than abject parentage. When sinking + Under the utmost pressure of our woes, + We find these friends and kinsmen, who alone + Amid the populous extent of Greece + Stand forth in our behalf. Ye generous youths, + Now give them your right hands, and in return + Take those of your protectors: O my sons, + Draw near: we have made trial of our friends. + If ye again behold your native walls, + Possess the self-same mansions, and the honours + Which your illustrious father erst enjoyed; + These deem your saviours and your friends, nor wield + Against their fostering land the hostile spear. + On your remembrance let these benefits + Be ever stamped, and hold this city dear; + For they deserve your reverence, who from us + Repel so great a nation, such a swarm + Of fierce Pelasgian troops: and, though they see + Our poverty and exile, have refused + To yield us up, or banish from their realm. + Both while I live, and after the cold grave + Receives me at the destined hour, my friend, + I with loud voice your merits will applaud, + Approaching mighty Theseus, and my words + Shall soothe your father’s ear when I recount + With what humanity you have received us, + And how protected the defenceless sons + Of Hercules: by your illustrious birth + Distinguished, you the glories of your sire + Through Greece maintain: sprung from a noble lineage + Yet are you one among that chosen few + Who in no instance deviate from the virtues + Of your great ancestry: although ’mid thousands + Scarce is a single instance to be found + Of those who emulate their father’s worth. + + CHOR. This country, in a just and honest cause, + Is ever prompt to succour the distressed. + Hence in its friends’ behalf hath it sustained + Unnumbered toils, and now another conflict + I see impending. + + DEM. Rightly hast thou spoken, + And in such toils I feel a conscious pride. + These benefits shall never be forgotten; + But an assembly of the citizens + I instantly will summon, and arrange + A numerous squadron, to receive the onset + Of fierce Mycene’s host, first sending spies + To meet them, lest they unawares assail us. + For the bold warrior, who without delay + Goes forth to battle, keeps the foe aloof. + I also will collect the seers, and slay + The victims; but do you, old man, meanwhile + Enter the palace with these children, leaving + Jove’s altar: for my menial train are there, + Who will with fond solicitude attend you, + Although I am not present: but go in. + + IOL. I will not leave the altar; on this seat + We supplicants will remain, and pray to Jove, + That prosperous fortunes may attend your city. + But when you from this conflict are with glory + Released, we to your palace will repair; + Nor are the gods, who war on our behalf, + O king, inferior to the gods of Argos. + For o’er that city, Jove’s majestic consort, + Juno, but here Minerva doth preside. + This I maintain, that nought ensures success + Beyond the aid of mightier deities, + Nor will imperial Pallas be subdued. + + [_Exit_ DEMOPHOON. + +CHORUS. + + ODE. + + I. + + Boast as thou wilt, and urge thy proud demand, + This nation disregards thy ire, + Thou stranger from the Argive land. + Nor can thy sounding words control + The steadfast purpose of my soul: + Great Athens, by her lovely choir + Distinguished, shall unstained preserve + Her ancient glory, nor from virtue swerve; + But thou, devoid of wisdom, dost obey + The son of Sthenelus, the tyrant’s impious sway, + + II. + + Who com’st amidst an independent state, + In nought inferior to the strength + Of Argos, and with brutal hate + Dar’st, though a foreigner, to seize + The exiles, who our deities + Implore, and in these realms at length + From their distress obtain a shield: + Thou e’en to sceptred monarchs will not yield, + Yet no just plea thy subtle tongue hath found. + How can such conduct warp the man whose judgment’s sound? + + III. + + Peace is the object of my dear delight: + But thou, O tyrant, thou whose breast + Well may I deem by frenzy is possest, + If ’gainst this city thou exert thy might, + Pant’st after trophies which thou ne’er shalt gain. + Bearing targe and brazen lance + Others with equal arms advance. + O thou, who fondly seek’st th’ embattled plain, + Shake not these turrets, spare the haunt + Of every gentle grace.—Thou wretch, avaunt. + +DEMOPHOON, IOLAUS, CHORUS. + + IOL. Why com’st thou hither, O my son, with eyes + Expressive of affliction? from the foe + What recent information canst thou give? + Do they delay their march, are they at hand, + Or bring’st thou any tidings? for the threats + That herald uttered sure will be accomplished. + Blest in the favour of the gods, the tyrant + Exults, I know, and arrogantly deems + That he o’er Athens shall prevail; but Jove + Chastises the presumptuous. + + DEM. Argos comes + With numerous squadrons, and its king Eurystheus, + Myself beheld him. It behoves the man + Who claims the merit of an able chief, + Not to depend upon his spies alone + To mark the foe’s approach. But with his host + He hath not yet invaded these domains, + But halting on yon mountain’s topmost ridge + Observes (I from conjecture speak) the road + By which he may lead forth his troops to battle, + And where he in this realm with greatest safety + May station them. Already have I made + Each preparation to repel their onset. + The city is in arms, the victims stand + Before the altars, with their blood t’ appease + The wrath of every god, and due lustrations + Are sprinkled by the seers, that o’er our foes + We may obtain a triumph, and preserve + This country. Every prophet who expounds + The oracles, convening, have I searched + Into each sage response of ancient times, + Or public or concealed, on which depends + The welfare of the realm. In all beside + Differ Heaven’s mandates: but one dread behest + Runs through the several auspices, to Ceres + They bid me sacrifice some blooming maid + Who from a nobler sire derives her birth. + Zeal have I shown abundant in your cause, + But will not slay my daughter, nor constrain + Any Athenian citizen to make + Such an abhorred oblation: for the man + Exists not, who is so devoid of reason, + As willingly to yield his children up + With his own hands. But what afflicts me most + Is this: tumultuous crowds appear; some cry, + ’Tis just that we the foreign suppliants aid, + But others blame my folly. If no means + Can be devised to satisfy them all, + Soon will a storm of civil war arise. + See thou to this, and think of some expedient, + How ye and how this country may be saved, + Without the citizens’ calumnious tongues + My fame assailing. For I rule not here + With boundless power, like a barbarian king; + Let but my deeds be just, and in return + Shall I experience justice. + + CHOR. Will not Jove + Suffer this city to exert its courage, + And aid these hapless strangers as we wish? + + IOL. Our situation, O my sons, resembles + That of the mariners, who having ’scaped + The storm’s relentless fury, when in sight + Of land, are from the coast by adverse winds + Driven back into the deep. Thus from this realm + Just as we reach the shore, like shipwrecked men, + Are we expelled. O inauspicious Hope, + Why didst thou soothe me with ideal joy, + Although it was ordained that thou should’st leave + Thy favours incomplete? The king deserves + At least to be excused, if he consent not + To slay his subjects’ daughters; to this city + My praise is due, and if the gods would place me + In the same prosperous fortunes, from my soul + Your benefits should never be effaced. + But now, alas! no counsel can I give + To you, my children. Whither shall we turn? + What god have we neglected? To what land + Have we not fled for shelter? We must perish, + We shall be yielded up. My being doomed + To die, I heed but for this cause alone, + That by my death I shall afford delight + To our perfidious foes. But, O my sons. + For you I weep, I pity you, I pity + Alcmena, aged mother of your sire, + Oh, most unhappy in a life too long! + I too am wretched, who unnumbered toils + Have fruitlessly endured; it was ordained, + It was ordained, alas! that we should fall + Into the hands of our relentless foes, + And meet a shameful, miserable death. + Know you, what still remains for you to do, + On my behalf? For all my hopes of saving + The children are not vanished. In their stead + Me to the Argive host surrender up, + O king, and rush not into needless danger, + Yet save these children. To retain a love + Of life becomes me not; I yield it up + Without regret. It is Eurystheus’ wish + The rather to seize me, and to expose + To infamy, because I was the comrade + Of Hercules; for frenzy hath possessed + His soul. The wise man, e’en in those he hates, + Had rather find discretion than a want + Of understanding; for a foe endued + With sense will pay due reverence to the vanquished. + + CHOR. Forbear, old man, thus hastily to blame + This city; for to us though it might prove + More advantageous, yet to our disgrace + Would it redound, should we betray our guests. + + DEM. A generous, but impracticable, scheme + Is that thou hast proposed: for Argos’ king + In quest of thee no squadrons hither leads. + What profit to Eurystheus from the death + Of one so old as thou art could arise? + He wants to murder _these_: for to their foes + The rising blossoms of a noble race, + To whom the memory of their father’s wrongs + Is present, must be dreadful: for all this + He cannot but foresee. But if thou know + Of any other counsel more expedient, + Adopt it; for my soul hath been perplexed, + Since that oracular response I heard + Which fills me with unwelcome apprehensions. + + [_Exit_ DEMOPHOON. + +MACARIA, IOLAUS, CHORUS. + + MAC. Deem not that I, O strangers, am too bold + Because I from my chamber venture forth; + This is my first request: for silence, joined + With modesty and a domestic life, + Is woman’s best accomplishment. I heard + Your groans, O Iolaus, and advanced + Though not appointed by our house to act + As their ambassadress; in some degree + Yet am I qualified for such an office, + I have so great an interest in the weal + Of these my brothers; on my own account + I also wish to hear if any ill, + Added to those you have already suffered, + Torture your soul. + + IOL. Not now for the first time, + On thee, O daughter, most of all the children + Of Hercules my praise can I bestow: + But our ill-fated house, just as it seemed + Emerging from its past disgraces, sinks + Afresh into inextricable ruin. + The king informs us, that the seers, whose voice + Expounds the will of heaven, have signified + No bull nor heifer, but some blooming maid + Who from a noble sire derives her birth, + Must be the victim, if we would redeem + The city and ourselves from utter ruin; + Here then are we perplexed: for his own children + He says he will not sacrifice, nor those + Of any of his subjects. Though to me + Indeed he speaks not plainly, in some sort + He intimates, that if we by no means + Can extricate ourselves from these distresses, + We must find out some other land to flee to, + For he this realm would from destruction save. + + MAC. May we indulge the hope of our escape + Upon these terms? + + IOL. These only: in all else + With prosperous fortunes crowned. + + MAC. No longer dread + The spear of Argos, for myself, old man, + Am ready, ere they doom me to be slain, + And here stand forth a voluntary victim. + For what could we allege on our behalf, + If Athens condescend to undergo + Dangers so great, while we who have imposed + These toils on others, though within our reach + Lie all the means of being saved, yet shrink + From death? Not thus: we should provoke the laugh + Of universal scorn, if, with loud groans, + We suppliants, at the altars of the gods, + Should take our seats, and prove devoid of courage, + From that illustrious father though we spring. + How can the virtuous reconcile such conduct? + This to our glory would forsooth redound + (O may it never happen!) when this city + Is taken, should we fall into the hands + Of our triumphant foes, when after all + Some noble maid reluctant must be dragged + To Pluto’s loathed embrace. But from these realms + Cast forth, should I become an abject vagrant, + Must I not blush when any one inquires, + “Why came ye hither with your suppliant branches + Too fond of life? Retreat from these domains, + For we no aid to cowards will afford.” + But if when these are dead, my single life + Be saved, I cannot entertain a hope + That I shall e’er be happy: through this motive + Have caused full many to betray their friends. + For who with a deserted maid will join, + Or in the bonds of wedlock, or desire + That I to him a race of sons should bear? + I therefore hold it better far to die, + Than to endure, without deserving them, + Such foul indignities, as can seem light + To her alone, who, from a noble race + Like mine, descends not: to the scene of death + Conduct, with garlands crown me, and prepare + If ye think fit, th’ initiatory rites; + Ye hence the foe shall conquer: for this soul + Shrinks not with mean reluctance. I engage + For these my brothers, and myself, to bleed + A willing victim; for with ease detached + From life, I have imbibed this best of lessons, + To die with firmness in a glorious cause. + + CHOR. Alas! what language shall I find, t’ express + My admiration of the lofty speech + I from this virgin hear, who for her brothers + Resolves to die? What tongue can utter words + More truly generous; or what man surpass + Such deeds as these? + + IOL. Thou art no spurious child, + But from the godlike seed of Hercules, + O daughter, dost indeed derive thy birth. + Although thy words are such as cannot shame, + Thy fate afflicts me. Yet will I propose + What may with greater justice be performed. + Together call the sisters of this maid, + And to atone for the whole race, let her + On whom th’ impartial lot shall fall, be slain; + But without such decision ’tis not just + That thou should’st die. + + MAC. I will not die as chance + The lot dispenses; for I hence should forfeit + All merit: name not such a scheme, old man. + If me ye will accept, and of my zeal + Avail yourselves, I gladly yield up life + Upon these terms, but stoop not to constraint. + + IOL. The speech thou now hast uttered soars beyond + What thou at first didst say, though that was noble: + But thou thy former courage dost surpass + By this fresh instance of exalted courage, + The merit of thy former words, by words + More meritorious. Daughter, I command not, + Nor yet oppose thy death: for thou by dying + Wilt serve thy brothers. + + MAC. You in cautious terms + Command me: fear not, lest on my account + You should contract pollution: for to die + Is my free choice. But follow me, old man, + For in your arms would I expire: attend, + And o’er my body cast the decent veil: + To dreadful slaughter dauntless I go forth, + Because I from that father spring, whose name + With pride I utter. + + IOL. At the hour of death + I cannot stand beside thee. + + MAC. Grant but this, + That when I breathe my last, I may be tended + By women, not by men. + + IOL. It shall be thus, + O miserable virgin: for in me + ’Twere base, if I neglected any rite + That decency enjoins, for many reasons; + Because thy soul is great, because ’tis just, + And of all women I have ever seen, + Because thou art most wretched. But from these + And from thy aged kinsman, if thou wish + For aught, to me thy last behests address. + + MAC. Adieu, my venerable friend, adieu! + Instruct these boys in every branch of wisdom, + And make them like yourself, they can attain + No higher pitch; strive to protect them still, + And for their sake that valued life prolong; + Your children we, to you our nurture owe. + Me you behold, mature for bridal joys, + Dying to save them. But may ye, my band + Of brothers who are here, be blest, and gain + All those advantages, which to procure + For you, the falchion shall transpierce my breast. + Revere this good old man, revere Alcmena + Your father’s aged mother, and these strangers. + Should ye be ever rescued from your woes, + Should gracious Heaven permit you to revisit + Your native land, forget not to inter, + With such magnificence as I deserve, + Your benefactress, for I have not proved + Deficient in attention to your welfare, + But die to save our family. To me + These monumental honours shall suffice + Instead of children, or the virgin state, + If there be aught amid the realms beneath, + But ’tis my wish there may not: for if grief + On us frail mortals also there attend, + I know not whither any one can turn: + For by the wise hath death been ever deemed + The most effectual cure for every ill. + + IOL. O thou, distinguished by thy lofty soul, + Be well assured thy glory shall outshine + That of all other women; both in life + And death, shalt thou be honoured by thy friends. + But ah, farewell! for with ill-omened words + I tremble lest we should provoke the goddess, + Dread Proserpine, to whom thou now art sacred. + + [_Exit_ MACARIA. + + My sons I perish: grief unnerves my frame; + Support and place me in the hallowed seat: + And, O my dearest children, o’er my face + Extend this garment: for I am not pleased + With what is done: yet, had not Heaven’s response + Found this completion, we must all have died; + For we must then have suffered greater ills + Than these, which are already most severe. + +CHORUS. + + ODE. + + In just proportion, as the gods ordain, + Is bliss diffused through life’s short span, + Or sorrow portioned out to man: + No favoured house can still maintain + From age to age its prosperous state, + For swift are the vicissitudes of fate, + Who now assails pride’s towering crest, + Now makes the drooping exile blest. + From destiny we cannot fly; + No wisdom can her shafts repel; + But he who vainly dares her power defy + Compassed with endless toils shall dwell. + Ask not from Heaven with impious prayer, + Blessings it cannot grant to man, + Nor waste in misery life’s short span + O’erwhelmed by querulous despair. + The nymph goes forth to meet a noble death, + Her brothers and this land to save, + And fame, with tributary breath + Shall sound her praises in the grave. + For dauntless virtue finds a way + Through labours which her progress would delay. + Such deeds as these, her father grace, + And add fresh splendour to her race, + But if with reverential awe thou shed + Over the virtuous dead + A tear of pity, in that tear I’ll join, + Inspired with sentiments like thine. + +SERVANT, IOLAUS, CHORUS. + + SER. Ye children, hail! but where is Iolaus, + That aged man; and hath your grandame left + Her seat before the altar? + + IOL. Here am I, + If aught my presence can avail. + + SER. On earth + Why art thou stretched, what means that downcast look? + + IOL. Domestic cares have harrowed up my soul. + + SER. Lift up thy head, arise. + + IOL. I am grown old, + And all my strength is vanished. + + SER. But to thee + I bring most joyful tidings. + + IOL. Who art thou? + Where have I seen thee? I remember not. + + SER. Hyllus’ attendant, canst thou not distinguish + These features? + + IOL. O my friend, art thou arrived + To snatch me from despair? + + SER. Most certainly: + Moreover the intelligence I bring + Will make thee happy. + + IOL. Thee I call, come forth, + Alcmena, mother of a noble son, + And listen to these acceptable tidings: + Full long thy soul, for those who now approach, + Was torn with grief, lest they should ne’er return. + +ALCMENA, SERVANT, IOLAUS, CHORUS. + + ALC. Whence with your voice resounds this echoing dome, + O Iolaus, is another herald + From Argos come, who forcibly assails you? + My strength indeed is small, yet be assured + Of this, presumptuous stranger, while I live + Thou shalt not bear them hence. May I no more + Be deemed the mother of that godlike son, + When I submit to this. But if thou dare + To touch the children, with two aged foes + Ignobly wilt thou strive. + + IOL. Be of good cheer, + Thou hoary matron, banish these alarms; + No herald with a hostile message comes + From Argos. + + ALC. Why then raised you that loud voice, + The harbinger of fear? + + IOL. That from the temple + Thou might’st come forth, and join us. + + ALC. What you mean + I comprehend not. Who is this? + + IOL. He tells us + Thy grandson marches hither. + + ALC. Hail, O thou + Who bear’st these welcome tidings? but what brings him + To these domains? Where is he? What affairs + Prevented him from coming hither with thee, + To fill my soul with transport? + + SER. He now marshals + The forces which attend him. + + ALC. In this conference + Am I no longer then allowed to join? + + IOL. Thou art: but ’tis my business to inquire + Into these matters. + + SER. Which of his transactions + Say art thou most solicitous to know? + + IOL. The number of the troops he leads? + + SER. Is great, + I cannot count them. + + IOL. The Athenian chiefs + Are sure apprized of this. + + SER. They are apprized, + And the left wing is formed. + + IOL. Then the whole host + Arrayed in arms is ready for the battle. + + SER. The victims to a distance from the ranks + Already are removed. + + IOL. But at what distance + Is the encampment of the Argive warriors? + + SER. So near that we their leader can distinguish. + + IOL. What is he doing; marshalling our foes? + + SER. This we conjecture: for I could not hear + His voice: but I must go; for I my lord + Will not abandon when he nobly braves + The dangers of the field. + + IOL. I too with thee + Will join him; for the same are our intentions, + As honour bids us, to assist our friends. + + SER. Unwisely hast thou spoken. + + IOL. With my friends + Shall not I then the stubborn conflict share? + + SER. That strength which erst was thine is now no more. + + IOL. Can I not pierce their shields? + + SER. Thou may’st: but first, + More likely, fall thyself. + + IOL. No foe will dare + To meet me face to face. + + SER. By thy mere looks, + With that debilitated arm, no wound + Canst thou inflict. + + IOL. My presence in the field + Will to our troops give courage, and augment + Their number. + + SER. Of small service to thy friends + Will thy appearance prove. + + IOL. Detain me not: + I for some glorious action am prepared. + + SER. Thou hast the will to act, but not the power. + + IOL. I will not be reproached for loitering here, + Say what thou wilt beside. + + SER. But without arms + How wilt thou face yon warriors sheathed in mail? + + IOL. The various implements of war are lodged + Beneath these roofs; with freedom will I use, + And if I live, return them; if I die, + The god will not demand them back again. + Go then into the temple, and reach down + Those martial trappings from the golden nails + On which they hang, and bring them to me swiftly. + For this were infamous, while some are fighting, + If others loiter slothfully behind. + + [_Exit_ SERVANT. + + CHOR. Time hath not yet debased that lofty soul + ’Tis vigorous, though thy body be decayed. + Why should’st thou enter on these fruitless toils, + Which only injure thee, and to our city + Can be of little service? on thy age + Should’st thou reflect, and lay aside attempts + That are impossible, for by no arts + The long-lost force of youth canst thou regain. + + ALC. What schemes are these? distempered in your mind, + Me and my children mean you to abandon? + + IOL. The battle is man’s province: to thy care + Them I consign. + + ALC. But if you die, what means + Have I of being saved? + + IOL. The tender care + Of the surviving children of thy son. + + ALC. Should they too meet with some severe mishap, + Which may the gods forbid. + + IOL. These generous strangers + Will not betray thee; banish every fear. + + ALC. In them I trust: I have no other friend. + + IOL. Jove too, I know, is mindful of thy toils. + + ALC. I will not speak in disrespectful terms + Of Jove: but whether he his plighted troth + Have kept, full well he knows. + + SER. [_returning._] Thou here behold’st + The brazen panoply, now haste to sheathe + Thy limbs in mail; the battle is at hand, + And Mars detests a loiterer: if thou fear + Accoutrements so ponderous, to the field + Advance disarmed, nor till thou join the ranks + Wear these unwieldy trappings; for meantime + I in my hands their burden will sustain. + + IOL. Well hast thou spoken; with those arms attend me + Ready for the encounter, place a spear + In my right hand, and under my left arm + Hold me, and guide my steps. + + SER. Shall I conduct + A warrior like a child? + + IOL. I must tread sure, + Else ’twere an evil omen. + + SER. Would thy power + Equalled thy zeal. + + IOL. Haste: greatly ’twill afflict me + If, left behind, I cannot join the fray. + + SER. Slow are thy steps, and hence thou deem’st I move not. + + IOL. Behold’st thou not the swiftness of my pace? + + SER. Thou to thyself I see appear’st to hasten, + Although thou gain’st no ground. + + IOL. When in the field + Thou seest me, thou wilt own I speak the truth. + + SER. What great exploit achieving? I could wish + That thou might’st prove victorious. + + IOL. Through his shield + Some foe transfixing. + + SER. We at length may reach + Th’ embattled plain, but this I greatly fear. + + IOL. Ah, would to heaven, that thou, my withered arm, + Again wert vigorous, as in former days + Thee I remember, when thou didst lay waste + The Spartan realms with Hercules; thus fight + My battles now, and singly will I triumph + Over Eurystheus, for that dastard fears + To face the dangers of th’ embattled field: + Too apt in our ideas to unite + Valour with wealth, yet to the prosperous man + Superior wisdom falsely we ascribe. + + [_Exeunt_ IOLAUS _and_ SERVANT. + +CHORUS. + + ODE. + + I. 1. + + O fostering Earth, resplendent Moon, + Who gladd’st the dreary shades of night, + And thou, enthroned at broadest noon, + Hyperion, ’midst exhaustless light, + To me propitious tidings bring, + Raise to the skies a festive sound, + And waft the gladsome notes around, + Till, from the palace of our king, + They echo through Minerva’s fane: + My house, my country, to maintain + Against the ruthless spoiler’s pride, + Menaced because this realm extends + Protection to its suppliant friends, + I with the sword our contest will decide. + + I. 2. + + Although there seem just cause for dread, + When cities like Mycene blest, + Whose triumphs fame hath widely spread + Enter this region to invest + Our bulwarks, harbouring ruthless hate. + Think, O my country, think what shame, + Should we reject the suppliant’s claim + Appalled by Argos’ haughty state. + Resistless Jove shall aid the spear + I brandish unappalled by fear; + The tribute of eternal praise + From all that breathe, to him is due: + Nor magnified by our weak view + Shall men above the gods their trophies raise. + + II. 1. + + Descend with venerable mien, + O thou our guardian and our queen, + For on thy fostering soil we stand, + These walls were reared by thy command, + Drive from our menaced gates the lawless host, + Suppress that Argive tyrant’s boast; + For if by you unaided, is this hand + Too weak their fury to withstand. + + II. 2. + + Thee, O Minerva, we adore, + Thy altar ever streams with gore: + We on each moon’s concluding day + To thee our public homage pay; + Through every fane harmonious numbers sound, + Sweet minstrelsy then breathes around, + And th’ echoing hills their nightly dance repeat + As the nymphs move with agile feet. + +SERVANT, ALCMENA, CHORUS. + + SER. O royal dame, the message that to you + I bring, is both concise, and what reflects + On me abundant glory to relate, + In fight have we prevailed, and trophies reared + On which the armour of your foes is hung. + + ALC. This day hath brought thee hither, O my friend, + Thy freedom for such tidings to receive: + But one anxiety there still remains + To which thou leav’st me subject; much I fear + For the important lives of those I love. + + SER. They live, and have obtained from all the host + The greatest fame. + + ALC. And Iolaus too, + My aged friend? + + SER. Yet more, he hath performed + Through the peculiar favour of the gods + Exploits most memorable. + + ALC. What glorious deed + Hath he achieved in fight? + + SER. From an old man, + He is grown young again. + + ALC. Thou speak’st of things + Most wonderful. But first, how fought our friends + With such success, I wish thee to inform me. + + SER. All that hath passed, at once will I relate + When, to each other in the field opposed, + We had arranged both armies, and spread forth + The van of battle to its full extent, + Hyllus alighting from his chariot, stood + In the midway ’twixt either host, and cried: + “Thou leader of the Argive troops, who com’st + With hostile fury to invade this land, + Thy interests recommend what I propose, + Nor can Mycene suffer from the loss + If thou deprive her of a single warrior; + Therefore with me encounter hand to hand, + And if thou slay me, seize and bear away + The sons of Hercules; but if thou die, + My palace and hereditary rank + Permit me to enjoy.” The troops assented, + And praised what he had spoken as the means + Of finishing their labours, and a proof + Of his exalted courage. But Eurystheus + Unmoved by reverence for th’ assembled host + Who heard the challenge, and with terror smitten, + Forgot the general’s part, nor dared to face + The lifted spear, but acted like a dastard: + Yet he who was thus destitute of courage + Came to enslave the sons of Hercules. + Hyllus again retreated to his rank; + The prophets too, when they perceived no peace + Could be effected by a single combat, + Without delay the blooming virgin slew, + Auspicious victim, from whose pallid lips + Her trembling spirit fled. The lofty car + Some mounted, o’er their sides while others flung + Their bucklers to protect them. To his host, + Meantime the king of Athens, in a strain + Worthy of his exalted courage, spoke: + “Ye citizens, the land to which ye owe + Your nourishment and birth, now claims your aid.” + Equally loth to sully the renown + Of Argos and Mycene, in like terms + The foe besought his partners of the war + Their utmost vigour to exert. No sooner + Had the loud signal by Etruria’s trump + Been given, than they in thickest battle joined. + Think with what crash their brazen shields resounded, + What groans and intermingled shouts were heard! + First through our lines the host of Argos burst, + And in their turn gave way: then foot to foot, + And man to man opposed, in stubborn conflict + We all persisted: multitudes were slain; + But in this language either chief his troops + Encouraged: “O ye citizens of Athens, + O ye who till the fruitful Argive field, + Will ye not from your native land repel + The foul disgrace?” But with our utmost efforts + Scarce could we put to flight the Argive host. + When Iolaus saw young Hyllus break + The ranks of battle, he with lifted hands + Entreated him to place him in his car, + Then seized the reins, and onward in pursuit + Of the swift coursers of Eurystheus drove. + As to the sequel; from report alone + Let others speak, I tell what I have seen: + While through Pallenè’s streets he passed, where rise + Minerva’s altars, soon as he descried + The chariot of Eurystheus, he a prayer + Addressed to blooming Hebe, and to Jove, + That for that single day he might recover + The pristine vigour of his youth, and punish + His foes as they deserve. You now shall hear + What a miraculous event ensued; + Two stars ’bove Iolaus’ chariot stood, + And overshadowed it with gloomy clouds, + Which, by the wise ’tis said, were Hercules + Your son, and blooming Hebe: from that mist + Which veiled the skies, the chief grown young again, + Displayed his vigorous arms, and near the rocks + Of Scyron, seized Eurystheus in his car. + Binding his hands with chains, he hither brings + The Argive tyrant, a distinguished prize, + Who once was happy; but on all mankind + Loudly inculcates by his present fortunes + This lesson: not too rashly to ascribe + Felicity to him who in appearance + Is prosperous, but to wait till we behold + His close of life; for fortune day by day + Doth waver. + + CHOR. Thou great author of success, + O Jove, at length am I allowed to view + The day, by which my terrors are dispelled. + + ALC. ’Twas late indeed, when thou, O Jove, didst look + On my afflictions; yet am I to thee + Most grateful for the kindness thou hast shown me. + And though I erst believed not that my son + Dwells with the gods, I clearly know it now. + Now, O my children, ye from all your toils + Shall be set free, and of Eurystheus, doomed + With shame to perish, burst the galling yoke, + Behold your father’s city, the rich fields + Of your inheritance again possess, + And sacrifice to your paternal gods, + From whom excluded, in a foreign land + Ye led a wandering miserable life. + But with what sage design yet undisclosed, + Hath Iolaus spared Eurystheus’ life, + Inform me: for to us it seems unwise + Not to avenge our wrongs when we have caught + Our enemies. + + SER. He through respect to you + Hath acted thus, that you might see the tyrant + Vanquished, and rendered subject to your power, + Not by his own consent, but in the yoke + Bound by necessity; for he was loth + To come into your presence, ere he bleed, + And suffer as he merits. But farewell, + O venerable matron, and remember + The promise you first made when I began + These tidings, and, oh, set me free: for nought + But truth should from ingenuous lips proceed. + + [_Exit_ SERVANT. + +CHORUS. + + ODE. + + I. 1. + + To me the choral song is sweet, + When the shrill flute and genial banquet meet, + If Venus also grace the festive board: + I taste a more refined delight + Now I behold my friends (transporting sight!) + To unexpected happiness restored. + For in this nether world, eventful Fate, + And Saturn’s offspring Time, full many a change create. + + I. 2. + + Follow the plain and beaten way, + From Justice, O my country, never stray, + Nor cease the powers immortal to revere. + To heights scarce short of frenzy rise + The errors of that mortal, who denies + Assent to truths confirmed by proofs so clear. + Jove’s power by signal judgments is descried, + Oft as his vengeance blasts the towering crest of pride. + + II. 1. + + In heavenly mansions with the blest, + Thy son, O venerable dame, doth rest; + He hath confuted those invidious tales, + That to loathed Pluto’s house he came + Soon as he perished in that dreadful flame: + He under roofs of burnished gold regales, + On the soft couch of lovely Hebe placed; + Them two, both sprung from Jove, O Hymen, thou hast graced. + + II. 2. + + Events, which strike man’s wondering eyes, + From a variety of causes rise. + For fame relates how Pallas saved the sire, + And from her city far renowned, + Her race, protection have the children found; + She hath suppressed th’ o’erweening tyrant’s ire, + Whose violence no laws could ere control; + Curse on such boundless pride, that fever of the soul. + +MESSENGER, EURYSTHEUS, ALCMENA, CHORUS. + + MES. Your eyes indeed behold, O royal dame, + Yet shall this tongue declare that we have brought + Eurystheus hither, unexpected sight, + Reverse of fortune his presumptuous soul + Foresaw not, this oppressor little deemed + That he should ever fall into your hands, + When from Mycene, by the Cyclops’ toil + Erected, he those squadrons led, and hoped + With pride o’erweening to lay Athens waste; + But Heaven our situation hath reversed: + And therefore with exulting Hyllus joins + The valiant Iolaus, in erecting + Trophies to Jove the author of our conquest. + But they to you commanded me to lead + This captive, wishing to delight your soul: + For ’tis most grateful to behold a foe + Fall’n from the height of gay prosperity. + + ALC. Com’st thou, detested wretch? at length hath Justice + O’ertaken thee? First hither turn thy head, + And dare to face thine enemies: for, dwindled + Into a vassal, thou no longer rul’st. + Art thou the man (for I would know the truth) + Who didst presume to heap unnumbered wrongs, + Thou author of all mischief, on my son + While yet he lived, wherever now resides + His dauntless spirit? For in what one instance + Didst thou not injure him? At thy command, + Alive he travelled to th’ infernal shades; + Thou sent’st, and didst commission him to slay + Hydras and lions. Various other mischiefs, + Which were by thee contrived, I mention not, + For an attempt to speak of them at large + Would be full tedious. Nor was it enough + For thee to venture on these wrongs alone, + But thou, moreover, from each Grecian state + Me and these children hast expelled, though seated + As suppliants at the altars of the gods, + Confounding those whose locks are grey through age + With tender infants. But thou here hast found + Those who were men indeed, and a free city + Which feared thee not. Thou wretchedly shalt perish, + And pay this bitter usury to atone + For all thy crimes, whose number is so great + That it were just thou more than once shouldst die. + + MES. You must not kill him. + + ALC. Then have we in vain + Taken him captive. But what law forbids + His being slain? + + MES. The rulers of this land + Consent not. + + ALC. Is it not by them esteemed + A glorious action to despatch our foes? + + MES. Not such as they have seized alive in battle. + + ALC. Is Hyllus satisfied with this decree? + + MES. He, in my judgment, will forsooth act rightly, + If he oppose what Athens shall enjoin. + + ALC. The captive tyrant ill deserves to live, + Or longer view the sun. + + MES. In this first instance + They did amiss, when by their swords he died not. + + ALC. Is it not just that he should suffer still? + + MES. He who will slay him is not to be found. + + ALC. What shall I say if some adventurous hand—— + + MES. If you do this, you will incur great censure. + + ALC. I love this city, I confess: but no man, + Since he is fall’n into my power, shall force + This prisoner from me: let them call me bold + And more presumptuous than becomes a woman, + I am resolved to execute my purpose. + + MES. Full well I know the hatred which you bear + To this unhappy man is terrible, + And such as merits pardon. + + EUR. Be convinced + Of this, O woman, that I cannot flatter, + Nor to preserve this wretched life say aught, + Whence they may brand me with a dastard’s name. + For I with much reluctance undertook + This contest; near in blood am I to thee, + And of that race whence sprung thy son Alcides. + But whether I consented, or was loth, + Me Juno caused by her immortal power + To harbour this dire frenzy in my breast. + Since I became his foe, since I resolved + Upon this strife, much mischief I devised, + And brooded o’er it many a tedious night, + That after I had wearied out and slain + Those I abhorred, I might no longer lead + A life of fear: for well I knew thy son + Was no mere cipher, but a man indeed: + Though strong my hate, on him will I confer + The praise he merits from his valiant deeds. + But after he was dead, was I not forced, + Because I was a foe to these his sons, + And knew what bitter enmity ’gainst me + They from their sire inherited, to leave + No stone unturned, to slay, to banish them, + And plot their ruin? Could I have succeeded + In these designs, my throne had stood secure. + If thou my prosperous station hadst obtained, + Wouldst thou not have attempted to hunt down + The lion’s whelps, instead of suffering them + At Argos unmolested to reside? + Thou canst prevail on no man to give credit + To such assertions: therefore, since my foes + Forbore to slay me, when prepared to lose + My life in battle, by the laws of Greece, + If I now die, my blood will fix a stain + Of lasting guilt on him who murders me. + This city hath discreetly spared my life, + More influenced by its reverence for the gods + Than by the hatred which to me it bears. + My answer to the charges thou hast urged + Against me, having heard, esteem me now + A suppliant, and though wretched, still a king, + For such is my condition: though to die + I wish not, yet can I without regret + Surrender up my life. + + CHOR. To you, Alcmena, + A little wholesome counsel would I give, + This captive monarch to release, since such + The pleasure of the city. + + ALC. If he die, + And to the mandates of th’ Athenian realm + I still submit, what mischief can ensue? + + CHOR. ’Twere best of all. But how can these two things + Be reconciled? + + ALC. I will inform you how + This may with ease be done. I, to his friends, + When slain will yield him up, and with this land + Comply in the disposal of his corse: + But he shall die to sate my just revenge. + + EUR. Destroy me if thou wilt; to thee I sue not: + But on this city, since it spared my life + Through pious reverence, and forbore to slay me, + Will I bestow an ancient oracle + Of Phœbus, which in future times shall prove + More advantageous than ye now suppose; + For after death, so have the Fates decreed, + My corse shall ye inter before the temple + Of the Pallenian maid: to you a friend + And guardian of your city, shall I rest + Beneath this soil for ever; but a foe + To those who spring from this detested race + When with their armies they invade this land + Requiting with ingratitude your kindness: + Such strangers ye protect. But thus forewarned, + Why came I hither? Through a fond belief + That Juno was with far superior power + To each oracular response endued, + And that my cause she ne’er would have betrayed. + On me waste no libations, nor let gore + Be poured forth on the spot of my interment, + For I to punish these their impious deeds, + Will cause them with dishonour to return: + From me shall ye receive a double gain, + For you I will assist, and prove to them + Most baneful e’en in death. + + ALC. Why are ye loth + To slay this man, if what ye hear be true, + That welfare to this city hence will spring, + And your prosperity? For he points out + The safest road. Alive he is a foe, + But after he is dead will prove a friend. + Ye servants bear him hence, and to the dogs + Cast forth without delay his breathless corse: + Think not, presumptuous wretch, that thou shalt live + Again t’ expel me from my native land. + + CHOR. With this am I well pleased. My followers, go. + For hence in our king’s sight shall we stand guiltless. + + + + +RHESUS. + + +PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. + + CHORUS OF TROJAN SENTINELS. + HECTOR. + ÆNEAS. + DOLON. + A SHEPHERD. + RHESUS. + ULYSSES. + DIOMEDE. + PARIS. + MINERVA. + THE MUSE. + THE CHARIOTEER OF RHESUS. + + +SCENE.—BEFORE HECTOR’S TENT AT THE GATES OF TROY. + +CHORUS, HECTOR. + + CHOR. Let some swift sentinel to Hector’s tent + Go and inquire if any messenger + Be yet arrived, who recent tidings bears + From those, who during the fourth nightly watch + Are by the host deputed. On your arm + Sustain your head, unfold those low’ring eyelids, + And from your lowly couch of withered leaves, + O Hector, rise, for it is time to listen. + + HEC. Who comes? art thou a friend? pronounce the watchword. + Who are ye, that by night approach my bed? + Speak out. + + CHOR. We guard the camp. + + HEC. Why com’st thou hither + With this tumultuous haste? + + CHOR. Be of good cheer. + + HEC. I am. Hast thou discovered in the camp + This night some treachery? + + CHOR. None. + + HEC. Why then deserting + The post where thou art stationed, dost thou rouse + The troops, unless thou through this midnight gloom + Bring some important tidings? know’st thou not + That near the Argive host we under arms + Take our repose. + + CHOR. Prepare your brave allies: + Go to their chambers, bid them wield the spear, + Rouse them from slumber, and despatch your friends + To your own troop; caparison the steeds. + Who bears the swift alarm to Pantheus’ son? + Who to Europa’s offspring, Lycia’s chief? + Where are the priests who should inspect the victims? + Who leads the light-armed squadron to the field? + And where are Phrygia’s archers? Let each bow + Be strung. + + HEC. Thy tidings are in part alarming, + In part thou giv’st us courage, though thou speak + Nought plainly. By the terrifying scourge + Of Pan hast thou been smitten, that thou leav’st + Thy station to alarm the host? Explain + These clamorous sounds. What tidings shall I say + Thou bring’st? Thy words are many, but their drift + I comprehend not. + + CHOR. All night long, O Hector, + The Grecian camp hath kindled fires, the torches + Amid their fleet are blazing, and the host + Tumultuous rush to Agamemnon’s tent, + At midnight calling on the king t’ assemble + A council: for the sailors never yet + Were thus alarmed. But I, because I fear + What may ensue, these tidings hither bring, + Lest you should charge me with a breach of duty. + + HEC. Full seasonably thou com’st, although thou speak + Words fraught with terror: for these dastards hope + They in their barks shall from this shore escape + Ere I discover them: their kindled fires + Prove this suspicion. Thou, O partial Jove, + Hast robbed me of my triumph, like the prey + Torn from the lion, ere I have destroyed + With this avenging spear the Grecian host. + Had not the sun withdrawn his radiant beams, + I the successful battle had prolonged + Till I had burnt their ships, and hewn a way + Through their encampments, and in slaughter drenched + My bloody hand. I would have fought by night + And taken my advantage of the gales + Sent by auspicious fortune: but the wise, + And seers who knew the will of Heaven, advised me + To wait but till to-morrow’s dawn appeared, + And then sweep every Grecian from the land. + But now no longer will they stay to prove + The truth of what my prophets have foretold: + For cowards in the midnight gloom are brave. + Instantly therefore through the host proclaim + These orders: “Take up arms, and rouse from sleep;” + Pierced through the back as to the ships he flies, + So shall full many a dastard with his gore + Distain the steep ascent; the rest fast bound + In galling chains shall learn to till our fields. + + CHOR. O Hector, ere you learn the real fact, + You are too hasty: for we know not yet + That they are flying. + + HEC. Wherefore then by night + Are those fires kindled through the Grecian camp? + + CHOR. I am not certain, though my soul full strongly + Suspects the cause. + + HEC. If thou fear this, thou tremblest + At a mere shadow. + + CHOR. Such a light ne’er blazed + Before among the foes. + + HEC. Nor such defeat + In battle, did they e’er till now experience. + + CHOR. This have you done; look now to what remains. + + HEC. I give this short direction: take up arms + Against the foe. + + CHOR. Behold! Æneas comes: + Sure, from his haste, some tidings, which deserve + His friends’ attentive ear, the warrior brings. + +ÆNEAS, HECTOR, CHORUS. + + ÆNE. What mean the watch, O Hector, who by night + Were to their stations in the camp assigned, + That they, with terror smitten, at your chamber + In a nocturnal council have assembled? + And why is the whole army thus in motion? + + HEC. Put on thy arms, Æneas. + + ÆNE. What hath happened? + Are you informed that in this midnight gloom + The foe hath formed some stratagem? + + HEC. They fly! + They mount their ships. + + ÆNE. What proof have you of this? + + HEC. All night their torches blaze; to me they seem + As if they would not wait to-morrow’s dawn: + But, kindling fires upon their lofty decks, + They sure fly homeward from this hostile land. + + ÆNE. But why, if it be thus, prepare your troops + For battle? + + HEC. As they mount the deck, this spear + Shall overtake the dastards; I their flight + Will harass: for ’twere base, and prejudicial + As well as base, when Heaven delivers up + The foe into our hands, to suffer those + Who wronged us to escape without a conflict. + + ÆNE. Ah! would to Heaven you equally stood foremost + In wisdom, as in courage: but one man + By bounteous Nature never was endued + With knowledge universal: various gifts + Doth she dispense, to you the warrior’s palm, + To others sapient counsels: now you hear + Their torches blaze, you thence infer the Greeks + Are flying, and would lead the troops by night + Over the trenches: but when you have passed + The yawning fosse, should you perceive the foes + Instead of flying from the land, resist, + With dauntless courage, your protended spear, + If you are vanquished, to these sheltering walls + You never can return: for in their flight + How shall the troops o’er slanting palisades + Escape, or, how the charioteer direct + Over the narrow bridge his crashing wheels? + If you prevail, you have a foe at hand, + The son of Peleus, from your flaming torches + Who will protect the fleet, nor suffer you + Utterly to destroy the Grecian host + As you expect; for he is brave. Our troops + Let us then leave to rest from martial toils, + And sleep beside their shields. That we despatch + Amid the foe some voluntary spy, + Is my advice: if they prepare for flight, + Let us assail the Greeks; but if those fires + Are kindled to ensnare us, having learned + The enemy’s intentions, let us hold + A second council on this great emprise. + Illustrious chief, I have declared my thoughts. + +CHORUS. + + I. + + These counsels I approve: thy wayward scheme, + O Hector, change, and think the same: + For perilous commands I deem, + Given by the headstrong chief, deserve our blame. + Why send not to the fleet a spy, + Who may approach the trenches, and descry + With what intent our foes upon the strand + Have kindled many a flaming brand? + + HEC. Ye have prevailed, because ye all concur + In one opinion: but depart, prepare + Thy fellow-soldiers, for perhaps the host + May by the rumours of our nightly council + Be put in motion. I will send a spy + Among the Greeks; and if we learn what schemes + They have devised, the whole of my intentions + To thee will I immediately reveal + In person. With confusion and dismay + But if the foe precipitate their flight, + Give ear, and follow where the clanging trump + Summons thee forth, for then I cannot wait, + But will this night attack the Grecian host, + Storm their entrenchments, and destroy their fleet. + + ÆNE. Despatch the messenger without delay. + For you now think discreetly, and in me + Shall find, when needed, in your bold emprise + A firm associate. + + [_Exit_ ÆNEAS. + + HEC. What brave Trojan, present + At this our conference, as a spy will go + T’ explore the Grecian navy? to this land + What generous benefactor will arise? + Who answers? for I singly cannot serve + The cause of Troy and its confederate bands + In every station. + + DOL. For my native realm, + Facing this danger, to the fleet of Greece + I as a spy will go; and when I’ve searched + Into the progress of our foes, return: + But I on these conditions undertake + The toilsome enterprise—— + + HEC. Thou well deserv’st + Thy name, and to thy country art a friend, + O Dolon; for this day thy father’s house, + Which is already noble, thou exalt’st + With double fame. + + DOL. I therefore ought to strive: + But after all my labours let me reap + A suitable reward. If gain arise + From the performance of the task enjoined, + We feel a twofold joy. + + HEC. This were but just: + I contradict thee not: name thy reward; + Choose what thou wilt, except the rank I bear. + + DOL. Your rich domains I wish not to possess. + + HEC. To thee a daughter of imperial Priam + In marriage shall be given. + + DOL. With my superiors + I will not wed. + + HEC. Abundant gold is ours, + If thou prefer this stipend. + + DOL. My own house + With wealth is furnished, I am far remote + From want. + + HEC. What then dost thou desire that Troy + Contains? + + DOL. When you have conquered the proud Greeks, + Promise to give me—— + + HEC. I will give thee all + That thou canst ask, except my royal captives. + + DOL. Slay them; I seek not to withhold your arm + From cutting off the vanquished Menelaus. + + HEC. Is it thy wish, Oileus’ son to thee + Should be consigned? + + DOL. The hands of princes, nurtured + Effeminately, are not formed to till + The stubborn soil. + + HEC. From which of all the Greeks + Taken alive wouldst thou receive his ransom? + + DOL. Already have I told you, that at home + I have abundant riches. + + HEC. Thou shalt choose + Among our spoils. + + DOL. For offerings let them hang + High in the temples of the gods. + + HEC. What gift + Greater than these canst thou from me require? + + DOL. Achilles’ steeds: for when I stake my life + On Fortune’s die, ’twere reasonable to strive + For such an object as deserves my toils. + + HEC. Although thou in thy wishes to possess + Those steeds hast interfered with me: for sprung + From an immortal race themselves immortal + They bear Pelides through the ranks of war, + Neptune, ’tis said, the king of ocean, tamed them + And gave to Peleus: I, who prompted thee + To this emprise, will not bely thy hopes, + But to adorn thy noble father’s house, + On thee Achilles’ generous steeds bestow. + + DOL. This claims my gratitude: if I succeed, + My courage will for me obtain a palm, + Such as no Phrygian ever won before: + Nor should you envy me, for joys unnumbered + And the first station in the realm, are yours. + + [_Exit_ HECTOR. + +CHORUS. + + II. + + The danger’s great, but great rewards allure + Thee, generous youth, t’ assert thy claim, + Thrice blest if thou the gift procure, + Yet will thy toils deserve immortal fame: + Th’ allies of kings let grandeur tend, + May Heaven and Justice thy emprise befriend, + For thou already seem’st to have acquired + All that from man can be desired. + + DOL. I am resolved to go: but my own doors + First must I enter, and myself attire + In such a garb as suits my present scheme, + Thence will I hasten to the Argive fleet. + + CHOR. What other dress intend’st thou to assume + Instead of that thou wear’st? + + DOL. Such as befits + My errand and the stealth with which I travel. + + CHOR. We ought to gain instruction from the wise. + What covering hast thou chosen for thy body? + + DOL. I to my back will fit the tawny hide + Of a slain wolf, will muffle up my front + With the beast’s hairy visage, fit my hands + To his fore-feet, thrust into those behind + My legs, and imitate his savage gait; + Approaching undiscovered by the foe, + The trenches and the ramparts that defend + The navy: but whenever I shall come + To desert places, on two feet I mean + To travel: such deception have I framed. + + CHOR. May Hermes, Maïa’s offspring, who presides + O’er well-conducted fallacies, assist + Thy journey thither, and with safety lead + Thy homeward steps! for well thou understand’st + The business; there is nought which yet thou need’st + But good success. + + DOL. I shall return in safety, + And having slain Ulysses, or the son + Of Tydeus, bring to you their ghastly heads: + For omens of assured success are mine: + Then say that Dolon reached the Grecian fleet. + These hands distained with gore, my native walls + Will I revisit ere the sun arise. + + [_Exit_ DOLON. + +CHORUS. + + ODE. + + I. 1. + + O thou, who issuing with majestic tread + From Delian, Lycian, or Thymbræan fanes, + Twang’st thy unerring bow; on Phrygia’s plains, + Apollo, thy celestial influence shed, + Hither come with nightly speed, + The enterprising chief to lead + Through mazes undiscovered by our foes; + Aid thy loved Dardanian line, + For matchless strength was ever thine, + Constructed by thy hand Troy’s ancient bulwarks rose. + + I. 2. + + Speed Dolon’s journey to the Grecian fleet, + Let him espy th’ entrenchments of their host; + Again in triumph from the stormy coast + Conduct the warrior to his native seat; + May he mount that chariot drawn + By steeds that browsed the Phthian lawn + When our brave lord, the Mars of Greece, hath slain; + Coursers of unrivalled speed, + Which erst to Eacus’ seed + To Peleus, Neptune gave who rules the billowy main. + + II. 1. + + His country, his paternal walls, to save, + The generous youth explores the anchored fleet: + From me such worth shall due encomiums meet. + How few with hardy bosoms stem the wave, + When Hyperion veils his face, + And cities tremble on their base! + At this dread crisis Phrygian heroes rise, + Mysian chiefs, uncurbed by fear, + Brandish with nervous arm the spear, + Curst be the lying tongue that slanders my allies. + + II. 2. + + In savage guise now Dolon stalks arrayed, + With step adventurous o’er the hostile ground: + What Grecian chief shall feel the deadly wound, + While the wolf’s hide conceals his glittering blade? + Weltering first in crimson gore, + May Menelaus rise no more; + Next may the victor, Agamemnon’s head + Bear to Helen, stung with grief + At her affinity to that famed chief + Who in a thousand ships to Troy his squadrons led. + +A SHEPHERD, HECTOR, CHORUS. + + SHEP. Most gracious monarch, may I ever greet + My lords with tidings such as now I bring! + + HEC. Full oft misapprehension clouds the soul + Of simple rustics: to thy lord in arms + Thou of thy fleecy charge art come to speak + At this unseemly crisis: know’st thou not + My mansion, or the palace of my sire? + There ought’st thou to relate how fare thy flock. + + SHEP. We shepherds are, I own, a simple race, + Yet my intelligence deserves attention. + + HEC. Such fortunes as befall the fold, to me + Relate not, for I carry in this hand + The battle and the spear. + + SHEP. I too am come + Such tidings to unfold; for a brave chief, + Your friend, the leader of a numerous host, + Marches to fight the battles of this realm. + + HEC. But from what country? + + SHEP. Thrace, and he is called + The son of Strymon. + + HEC. Didst thou say, that Rhesus + Hath entered Ilion’s fields? + + SHEP. You comprehend me, + And have anticipated half my speech. + + HEC. Why doth he travel over Ida’s hill, + Deserting that broad path where loaded wains + With ease might move? + + SHEP. I have no certain knowledge; + Yet may we form conjectures; ’tis a scheme + Most prudent, with his host to march by night + Because he hears the plain with hostile bands + Is covered: but us rustics he alarmed, + Who dwell on Ida’s mount, the ancient seat + Of Ilion’s first inhabitants, by night + When through that wood, the haunt of savage beasts + The warrior trod: for with a mighty shout + The Thracian host rushed on, but we, our flocks, + With terror smitten, to the summit drove, + Lest any Greek should come to seize the prey, + And waste your crowded stalls: till we discovered + Voices so different from the Hellenian tribes, + That we no longer feared them. I advanced, + And in the Thracian language made inquiry + Of the king’s vanguard, as they moved along + To explore a passage for the host, what name + Their leader bore, sprung from what noble sire, + To Ilion’s walls he came, the friend of Priam. + When I had heard each circumstance I wished + To know, I for a time stood motionless, + And saw majestic Rhesus, like a god, + High in his chariot, drawn by Thracian steeds + Whiter than snow, a golden beam confined + Their necks, and o’er his shoulders hung a shield + Adorned with sculptures wrought in massive gold; + Like that which in Minerva’s Ægis flames, + Bound on the courser’s front, a brazen Gorgon + Tinkled incessant with alarming sound. + The numbers of an army so immense + I cannot calculate; the horse were many, + Many the ranks of troops with bucklers armed, + And archers; and a countless multitude, + Like infantry in Thracian vests arrayed + Brought up the rear. Such is th’ ally who comes + On Troy’s behalf to combat; nor by flight, + Nor by withstanding his protended spear, + Can Peleus’ son escape him. + + CHOR. When the gods + Are to a realm propitious, each event + Is easily converted into bliss. + + HEC. Since I in battle prosper, and since Jove + Is on our side, I shall have many friends; + But those we need not who in former time + Our toils partook not, with malignant blast + When on the sails of Ilion Mars had breathed. + Rhesus hath shown too plainly what a friend + He is to Troy, for to the feast he comes, + Yet was he absent when the hunters seized + Their prey, nor did he share the toils of war. + + CHOR. You justly scorn such friends; yet, O receive + Those who would aid the city. + + HEC. We who long + Have guarded Ilion can defend it now. + + CHOR. Are you persuaded you have gained already + A triumph o’er the foes? + + HEC. I am persuaded, + And when to-morrow’s sun the heaven ascends + This shall be proved. + + CHOR. Beware of what may happen; + Jove oft o’erthrows the prosperous. + + HEC. I abhor + These tardy succours. + + SHEP. O, my lord, ’twere odious, + Should you reject with scorn the proffered aid + Of our allies: the sight of such a host + Will strike the foe with terror. + + CHOR. Since he comes + But as a guest, not partner in the war, + Let him approach your hospitable board, + For little thanks are due from Priam’s sons + To such confederates. + + HEC. Prudent are thy counsels, + Thou too hast rightly judged: and in compliance + With what the messenger hath said, let Rhesus + Refulgent in his golden arms draw near, + For Ilion shall receive him as her friend. + + [_Exit_ SHEPHERD. + +CHORUS. + + ODE. + + I. 1. + + Daughter of Jove, forbear to wreak + Impending vengeance, though the tongue, + O Nemesis, its boastful strain prolong: + I the free dictates of my soul will speak. + Thou com’st, brave son of that illustrious spring, + Thou com’st thrice welcome to our social hall: + At length doth thy Pierian mother bring + Her favoured child, while ling’ring in his fall, + Adorned by many a bridge, thee with paternal call. + + I. 2. + + Doth Strymon summon to the field: of yore + When he the tuneful Muse addressed, + A gliding stream he sought her snowy breast, + Thee, lovely youth, the yielding goddess bore: + To us thou com’st a tutelary power + Yoking thy coursers to the fervid car: + O Phrygia! O my country! at this hour + Hastes thy deliverer glittering from afar, + Him may’st thou call thy Jove, thy thunderbolt of war. + + II. 1. + + While swiftly glides th’ unheeded day, + Again shall Troy without control + Chant the young loves, and o’er the foaming bowl + The sportive contest urge ’midst banquets gay; + But Atreus’ sons desponding cross the wave, + And sail from Ilion to the Spartan strand. + Accomplish what thy friends foretold, O save + These menaced walls by thy victorious hand, + Return with laurels crowned, and bless thy native land. + + II. 2. + + To dazzle fierce Pelides’ sight, + Before him wave thy golden shield + Obliquely raised, that meteor of the field, + Vault from thy chariot with unrivalled might, + And brandish with each dexterous hand a lance; + Whoever strives with thee shall ne’er return + To Argive fanes, and join Saturnia’s dance, + He by the spear of Thrace in combat slain, + Shall lie a breathless corse on Troy’s exulting plain. + + Hail, mighty chief! ye Thracian realms, the mien + Of him ye bore speaks his exalted rank. + Observe those nervous limbs with plated gold + Incased, and hearken to those tinkling chains + Which on his shield are hung. A god, O Troy, + E’en Mars himself, from Strymon’s current sprung, + And from the Muse, brings this auspicious gale. + +RHESUS, HECTOR, CHORUS. + + RHE. Thou brave descendant of a noble sire, + Lord of this realm, O Hector, I accost thee + After a tedious absence, and rejoice + In thy success, for to the turrets reared + By Greece, thou now lay’st siege, and I am come + With thee those hostile bulwarks to o’erthrow, + And burn their fleet. + + HEC. Son of the tuneful Muse, + And Thracian Strymon’s stream, I ever love + To speak the truth, for I am not a man + Versed in duplicity; long, long ago, + Should you have come to succour Troy, nor suffered, + Far as on you depended, by our foes + This city to be ta’en. You cannot say + That uninvited by your friends you came not, + Because you marked not our distress. What heralds, + What embassies to you did Phrygia send, + Beseeching you, the city to protect, + What sumptuous presents did she not bestow? + But you, our kinsman, who derive your birth + From a barbarian stem, to Greece betrayed + Us, a barbarian nation, though from ruling + Over a petty state, by this right arm + I raised you to the wide-extended throne, + When round Pangæum and Pæonia’s realm + Rushing upon the hardiest Thracian troops + I broke their ranks of battle, and subdued + The people to your empire: but you spurn + My benefits, nor come with speed to succour + Your friends in their distress. Though they who spring not + From the same ancestors, observed our summons; + Of whom full many in yon field of death + Have tombs heaped o’er them, a most glorious proof + Of faith unshaken; others under arms + Their chariots mount, and steadfastly endure + The wintry blasts, the parching flames of heaven, + Nor on a gay convivial couch reclined + Like you, O Rhesus, drain the frequent bowl. + That you may know I yet can stand alone, + Such conduct I resent; this to your face + I speak. + + RHE. I also am the same: my language + Is plain and honest; I am not a man + Of mean duplicity. My soul was tortured + With greater anguish far than thou couldst feel, + Because I was not present in this land; + But Scythia’s tribes who near our confines dwell + Made war against me just as I to Troy + Was journeying; I had reached the Euxine shore + To sail with Thracia’s host, the Scythian blood + There stained our spears, and my brave troops expired + ’Midst intermingled slaughter: this event + Hindered my reaching Troy, and aiding thee + In battle. Having conquered them, and taken + For hostages their children, them I bound + To pay me annual tribute; with my fleet + Then crossed the Hellespont, and marched on foot + Through various realms, nor, as thou proudly say’st, + Drained the intoxicating bowl, nor slept + Beneath a gilded roof, but to such blasts + As cover with thick ice the Thracian wave, + Or through Pæonia howl, was I exposed + Wrapped in this mantle many a sleepless night. + But I, though late, am in due season come: + For this is the tenth year since thou hast waged + An ineffectual war, day after day + By thee is idly lavished, while the die + Of battle ’twixt the Argive host and thine + Spins doubtful ere it fall. But it for me + Will be sufficient that the sun once mount + The heavens, while I their bulwarks storm, invade + Their fleet, and slay the Greeks. To my own home + I the next day from Ilion will return, + Thy toils soon ending: let no Trojan bear + A shield: for with this spear will I subdue + The boasters, though ’twas late ere I arrived. + + CHOR. My soul this language doth approve, + Such friends as thou art sent by Jove, + But humbly I that god beseech, + To pardon thy presumptuous speech. + The navy launched from Argos’ strand, + Though freighted with a daring band, + Neither in former times, nor now + Contained a chief more brave than thou. + How shall Achilles’ self withstand, + Or Ajax meet, thy vengeful hand? + O may the morn with orient ray + Exhibit that auspicious day, + When thou the victor’s prize shalt gain + And dye with crimson gore the plain. + + RHE. Soon with exploits like these will I atone + For my long absence: but, with due submission + To Nemesis, I speak; when from the foe + We have delivered this beleaguered city + And seized their spoils for offerings to the gods; + With thee to Argos will I go, invade, + And ravage with victorious arms, all Greece, + To teach them in their turn what ’tis to suffer. + + HEC. Could I escape from the impending stroke, + And with that safety which we erst enjoyed + These walls inhabit, I to Heaven should pay + Full many a grateful vow: but as for Argos, + As for the Grecian states, to lay them waste + By arms were far less easy than you speak of. + + RHE. Is it not said the bravest chiefs of Greece + Came hither? + + HEC. Them I hold not in contempt, + But long have kept at bay. + + RHE. When these are slain, + We therefore each obstruction have removed. + + HEC. Forbear to think of distant prospects now, + While our immediate interests lie neglected. + + RHE. Art thou so tame as to endure such wrongs + Without retorting them? + + HEC. While I maintain + What I possess, my empire is sufficient. + But freely take your choice, or in the left + Or the right wing, or centre of our host + Display your shield, and range your troops around. + + RHE. I singly will encounter all our foes, + O Hector; but if thou esteem it base + Not to assist me when I burn their fleet, + Because thou hast already toiled so long, + Oppose me to Achilles in the front + Of battle. + + HEC. We at him no spear must aim. + + RHE. Yet was I told he sailed for Troy. + + HEC. He sailed, + And still is here, but angry with the chiefs, + Refuses to assist them. + + RHE. In the camp + Of Greece, say who is second in renown? + + HEC. Ajax, I deem, and Tydeus’ son are equal + To any; but most fluent in his speech, + And with sufficient fortitude inspired, + Is that Ulysses, from whom Troy hath suffered + Insults the most atrocious; for by night, + Entering Minerva’s fane, he stole her image, + And bore it to the Grecian fleet: disguised + In tattered vest, that vile impostor next + Entered the gates, and cursed the Argive host, + Sent as a spy to Ilion; having slain + The sentinels, he through the gates escaped, + And in some fraudful scheme is ever found: + At the Thymbræan temple is he stationed + Hard by our ramparts, we in him contend + With a most grievous pest. + + RHE. The valiant man + Is never mean enough to slay his foes + By stealth, he loves to meet them face to face; + But, as for him, the recreant chief thou nam’st, + Who lurking with a thievish purpose frames + These dark contrivances, as through the gates + I sally forth to combat, I will seize him; + Driven through his back, my spear shall leave the miscreant + Food for the vultures, for the impious robber + Who spoils the temples of the gods deserves + No better fate. + + HEC. Now choose, for it is night, + The spot for an encampment: I will show you + A separate quarter where your troops must sleep. + But mark me well, Apollo is the watchword; + In case of an emergency, announce + This signal to the Thracian host. + + [_Exit_ RHESUS. + + Extend + The watch beyond the lines, and there receive + Dolon our spy, who sallied forth t’ explore + The navy of our foes; if he be safe + He, by this time, the trenches must approach. + + [_Exit_ HECTOR. + +CHORUS. + + I. + + Who comes this rampart to defend? + The times assigned us sentinels is o’er; + Yon fading constellation shines no more + Now the seven Pleiades the heaven ascend, + In ether view the eagle glide. + Wake! what means this long delay? + Rise and watch; now dawns the day? + Saw ye the moon diffuse her radiance wide? + Aurora is at hand: but at the gate + (For Dolon sure returns) what faithful guard shall wait? + + SEMICHOR. To whom did the first watch belong? + + SEMICHOR. ’Tis said + Choræbus, son of Mygdon, is their chief. + + SEMICHOR. Who in his room was stationed? + + SEMICHOR. The Pæonians + Called from their tent Cilicia’s hardy troops. + + SEMICHOR. The Mysians summoned us. + + SEMICHOR. Haste, let us seek + The fifth division of the watch, and rouse + Lycia’s brave warriors as by lot ordained. + +CHORUS. + + II. + + Hark! couched on her ill-omened nest, + Fell murderess of her son, in varied strains + Near Simois’ banks the nightingale complains: + What sounds melodious heave her throbbing breast! + The flocks on Ida wont to feed + Still browse o’er that airy height, + Soothing the cold ear of night, + Hark to the murmurs of the pastoral reed. + Sleep on our closing eyelids gently steals; + Sweet are its dews when morn her earliest dawn reveals. + + SEMICHOR. But wherefore doth not he draw near whom Hector + Sent to explore the fleet? + + SEMICHOR. He hath so long + Been absent that I tremble. + + SEMICHOR. If he fell + Into some ambush, and is slain, we soon + Shall have sufficient cause for fear. + + SEMICHOR. But haste, + Rouse Lycia’s warriors as by lot ordained. + + [_Exit_ CHORUS. + +ULYSSES, DIOMEDE. + + ULY. Heard’st thou, O Diomede, the sound of arms, + Or in these ears did empty murmurs ring? + + DIO. No; but the steely trappings which are linked + To yonder chariots, rattled, and I too + With vain alarm was seized, till I perceived + The coursers, who their clanging harness shook. + + ULY. Beware, lest in this gloom of night thou stumble + Upon the sentinels. + + DIO. Though in the dark + We tread, I with such caution will direct + My steps as not to err. + + ULY. But, should’st thou wake them, + Thou know’st the watchword of their host. + + DIO. I know + It is Apollo; this I heard from Dolon. + + ULY. Ha! I perceive our foes have left these chambers. + + DIO. Here, Dolon told us, is the tent of Hector: + ’Gainst him I wield this javelin. + + ULY. What hath happened? + Is the whole squadron too elsewhere removed? + + DIO. Perchance they too ’gainst us may have contrived + Some stratagem. + + ULY. For Hector now is brave + Since he hath conquered. + + DIO. How shall we proceed? + For in this chamber him we cannot find, + And all our hopes are vanished. + + ULY. To the fleet + Let us in haste return: for him some god + Protects, and crowns him with triumphant wreaths: + We must not strive ’gainst Fortune’s dread behests. + + DIO. Then to Æneas will we go, or Paris + That Phrygian most abhorred, and with our swords + Lop off their heads. + + ULY. But how, in darkness wrapt, + Canst thou direct thy passage through the troops, + To slay them without danger? + + DIO. Yet ’twere base, + Back to the Grecian fleet should we return, + No fresh exploit performing ’gainst the foe. + + ULY. What means this language? hast thou not performed + A great exploit? have we not slain the spy + Who to our navy went, and are not these + The spoils of Dolon? how canst thou expect + To spread a general havoc through their troops? + Comply; let us retire: may Fortune speed + Our progress homeward. + +MINERVA, ULYSSES, DIOMEDE. + + MIN. With affliction stung, + Why from the Trojan camp do ye retire? + Although the gods forbid you to destroy + Hector or Paris, heard ye not that Rhesus, + A mighty chief, with numerous troops is come + To Troy? If he outlives this night, nor Ajax, + Nor can Achilles hinder him from wasting + The camp of Greece, demolishing your walls, + And forcing a wide passage through your gates + With his victorious spear: him slay, and all + Is yours; but go not to the couch of Hector, + Nor hope to leave that chief a weltering trunk, + For he must perish by another hand. + + ULY. Dread goddess, O Minerva, I distinguished + Thy well-known voice: for midst unnumbered toils + Thou ever dost support me: but, oh say, + Where sleeps the mighty warrior thou hast named, + And in what part of the barbarian host + Have they assigned his station? + + MIN. Near at hand, + And separate from the Phrygian troops, he lies; + Hector hath placed him just without the lines + Till morn arise; conspicuous in the gloom + Of night, and close beside their sleeping lord, + Yoked to the car his Thracian coursers stand, + White as the glossy plumage of the swan: + Them bear away when ye have slain their lord, + A glorious prize, for the whole world can boast + No car beside drawn by such beauteous steeds. + + ULY. Either do thou, O Diomede, transpierce + The Thracian soldiers, or to me consign + That task; meanwhile seize thou the steeds. + + DIO. To slay + The foe be mine; do you the coursers guide, + For you are practised in each nicer art, + And quick of apprehension. To each man + Should that peculiar station be assigned + In which he can be useful. + + MIN. But to us + Paris I see is coming, who hath heard + A doubtful rumour from the watch, that foes + Enter the trenches. + + DIO. Hath he any comrade, + Or marches he alone? + + MIN. Alone he seems + To go to Hector’s chamber, to announce + That there are foes discovered in the camp. + + DIO. Is it not first ordained that he shall die? + + MIN. You can no more, the Destinies forbid: + For Hector must not perish by your hand; + But haste to him on whom ye came to wreak + Fate’s dreadful purposes: myself meanwhile + Assuming Venus’ form, who ’midst the toils + Of battle by her tutelary care + Protects him, will with empty words detain + Paris your foe. Thus much have I declared: + Yet he, whom you must smite, though near at hand, + Nor knows, nor hears, the words which I have uttered. + + [_Exeunt_ ULYSSES _and_ DIOMEDE. + +PARIS, MINERVA. + + PAR. General and brother, Hector, thee I call: + Yet sleep’st thou? doth not this important hour + Demand thy vigilance? some foes approach, + Robbers or spies. + + MIN. Be of good cheer; for Venus + Protects you: I in all your battles feel + An interest, mindful of the prize I gained + Favoured by you, and am for ever grateful: + Now to the host of Ilion I conduct + Your noble Thracian friend, who from the Muse, + Harmonious goddess, and from Strymon springs. + + PAR. To Troy and me thou ever art a friend. + In thy behalf when I that judgment gave, + I boast that for this city I obtained + The greatest treasure life affords. But hither, + Hearing an indistinct account, I come; + For ’mong the guards there hath prevailed a rumour, + That Grecian spies have entered Ilion’s walls: + Though the astonished messenger who bore + These tidings, saw them not himself, nor knows + Who saw them: I on this account am going + To Hector’s tent. + + MIN. Fear nought; for in the camp + No new event hath happened. To arrange + The Thracian troops is Hector gone. + + PAR. Thy words + Are most persuasive, and to them I yield + Implicit credence. From all fears released, + I to my former station will return. + + MIN. Go and depend upon my guardian care + To see my faithful votaries ever blest; + For you in me shall find a zealous friend. + + [_Exit_ PARIS. + +ULYSSES, DIOMEDE, MINERVA. + + MIN. But now to you, my real friends, I speak. + Son of Laertes, O conceal your sword, + For we have slain the Thracian chief, and seized + His coursers, but our foes have ta’en th’ alarm + And rush upon you, therefore fly with speed, + Fly to the naval ramparts. Why delay + To save your lives when hostile throngs approach? + + [_Exit_ MINERVA. + +CHORUS, ULYSSES, DIOMEDE. + + CHOR. Come on, strike, strike, destroy. Who marches yonder? + Look, look, ’tis him I mean! these are the robbers + Who in the dead of night alarmed our host. + Hither, my friends, haste hither; I have seized them. + What answer mak’st thou? tell me whence thou cam’st, + And who thou art. + + ULY. No right hast thou to know; + Insult me, and this instant thou shalt die. + + CHOR. Wilt thou not, ere this lance transpierce thy breast, + Repeat the watchword? + + ULY. That thou soon shalt hear; + Be satisfied. + + 1st SEMICHOR. Come on, my friends, strike! strike! + + 2nd SEMICHOR. Hast thou slain Rhesus? + + ULY. I have slain the man + Who would have murdered thee: forbear. + + 1st SEMICHOR. I will not. + + 2nd SEMICHOR. Forbear to slay a friend. + + 1st SEMICHOR. Pronounce the watchword. + + ULY. Apollo. + + 2nd SEMICHOR. Thou art right; let not a spear + Be lifted up against him. + + 1st SEMICHOR. Know’st thou whither + Those men are gone? + + 2nd SEMICHOR. We saw not. + + 1st SEMICHOR. Follow close + Their steps, or we must call aloud for aid. + + 2nd SEMICHOR. Yet were it most unseemly to disturb + Our valiant comrades with our nightly fears. + + [_Exeunt_ ULYSSES _and_ DIOMEDE. + +CHORUS. + + ODE. + + I. + + What chief is he, who moved along; + What daring plunderer fleet and strong, + Shall boast he ’scaped my vengeful hand? + How overtake his rapid flight? + To whom compare him, who by night, + With dauntless step passed through our armed band + And slumbering guards? doth he reside + In Thessaly, near ocean’s boisterous tide + In Locris, or those islands scattered o’er + The waves? whence comes he to this fell debate? + What power supreme doth he adore? + + 1st SEMICHOR. Was this Ulysses’ enterprise, or whose? + + 2nd SEMICHOR. If we may form our judgment from the past, + Who but Ulysses—— + + 1st SEMICHOR. Think’st thou that it was? + + 2nd SEMICHOR. Why not? + + 1st SEMICHOR. He is an enterprising foe. + + 2nd SEMICHOR. What bravery? whom do you applaud? + + 1st SEMICHOR. Ulysses. + + 2nd SEMICHOR. Praise not the treacherous weapon of a robber. + +CHORUS. + + II. + + He entered Ilion once before, + With foam his eyes were covered o’er, + In tatters hung his squalid vest; + He artfully concealed his sword, + And sued for fragments from our board; + Shorn was his head, and like a beggar dressed; + He cursed with simulated hate + Th’ Atrides, rulers of the Grecian state. + May just revenge his forfeit life demand: + Would he had perished as his crimes deserve, + Before he reached the Phrygian land. + + 1st SEMICHOR. Whether this deed was by Ulysses wrought + It matters not, I shrink with fear, for Hector + Will to us guards impute the blame. + + 2nd SEMICHOR. What charge + Can he allege? + + 1st SEMICHOR. He will suspect. + + 2nd SEMICHOR. Why shrink + With terror? + + 1st SEMICHOR. ’Twixt our ranks they passed. + + 2nd SEMICHOR. Who passed? + + 1st SEMICHOR. They, who this night have entered Phrygia’s camp. + +CHARIOTEER OF RHESUS, CHORUS. + + CHA. Alas! intolerable stroke of fate! + + 1st SEMICHOR. Be silent. + + 2nd SEMICHOR. Rouse! for some one may have fallen + Into the snare. + + CHA. O dire calamity + Of Troy’s allies, the Thracians! + + 1st SEMICHOR. Who is he + That groans? + + CHA. Ah! wretched me, and O thou king + Of Thrace, who in an evil hour beheld’st + Accursed Ilion; what an end of life + Was thine! + + CHOR. But which of our allies art thou? + For o’er these eyes the gloom of night is spread, + And I discern thee not. + + CHA. Where shall I find + Some of the Trojan chiefs? beneath his shield + O where doth Hector taste the charms of sleep? + To which of Ilion’s leaders shall I tell + All we have suffered? and what wounds unseen + Some stranger hath on us with ruthless hand + Inflicted? but he vanished and hath heaped + Conspicuous sorrows on the Thracian realm. + + CHOR. Some terrible disaster to the troops + Of Thrace it seems hath happened, if aright + I comprehend what I from him have heard. + + CHA. Our host is utterly destroyed, our king + Hath been despatched by some foul secret stroke. + How am I tortured by a deadly wound, + Yet know not to what cause I must impute + My perishing! ’Twas by the Fates ordained, + That I, and Rhesus, who to Ilion led + Auxiliar troops, ingloriously should bleed. + + CHOR. He in no riddle hath expressed the tale + Of our misfortunes; he asserts too clearly + That our allies are slain. + + CHA. We are most wretched, + And to our wretchedness have joined disgrace, + A twofold evil. For, to die with glory, + If glory must be purchased at the expense + Of life, is very bitterness I deem + To him who bleeds (for what can make amends + For such a loss as life); but to the living + Is he the source of pride, from him his house + Derives renown. But we, alas! like fools, + Ignobly perish. Hector in the camp + No sooner fixed our station, and pronounced + The watchword, than we slept upon the plain, + O’ercome with toil; no sentinels were stationed + To watch our troops by night, nor were our arms + Duly arranged, and to the harnessed steeds + Hung no alarm bell; for our monarch heard + That ye had proved victorious, and with ruin + Threatened the Grecian fleet. Immersed we lay + In luckless slumber; till disturbed in mind + I started up, and with a liberal hand + Measured the coursers’ food, resolved betimes + To yoke them for the battle. I beheld + Two men, who, in the midnight darkness, walked + Around our camp; but when I moved, they fled, + And disappeared immediately; with threats + I bade them keep aloof: ’twas my conjecture + That robbers, some of our own countrymen, + Approached: they answered not, nor know I more. + Returning to my tent, again I slept, + And forms tremendous hovered in my dream. + For near my royal master, as I stood, + I saw two visionary wolves ascend + Those coursers’ backs which I was wont to guide, + Oft lashing with their tails they forced them on, + Indignant breathing as they champed the bit, + And struggling with dismay; but in attempting + To drive away these ravenous beasts, I woke, + Roused by the terrors of the night, and heard, + Soon as I raised my head, expiring groans; + The tepid current of my master’s blood, + Yet gasping in the agonies of death, + Besprinkled me. As from the couch I leaped + Unarmed, and sought for weapons, some strong warrior + Smote with his sword my ribs; the ghastly wound + Displayed his might: prostrate I sunk to earth. + Bearing the steeds away, and glittering car, + They by the swiftness of their feet escaped, + Tortured with pain, too faint to stand, I know + Too well the dire calamity these eyes + Beheld; but cannot say, or through what means, + Or by the hand of whom, my lord was slain: + Yet can I guess that by our friends we suffer. + + CHOR. O charioteer of Thracia’s wretched king, + Be well assured this deed was by our foes + Committed. For lo! Hector’s self, apprized + Of this calamity, draws near; he feels + Such anguish as he ought for thy disasters. + +HECTOR, CHARIOTEER OF RHESUS, CHORUS. + + HEC. O ye accursed authors of this mischief, + How did those spies, who by the foe were sent + Thus, to your infamy, escape, and spread + Dire havoc through the host; both as they entered + And as they left the camp? Yet, unmolested, + Ye suffered them to pass. Who should be punished + But you? for you, I say, were stationed here + To watch the camp; but they without a wound + Are vanished, laughing at the Phrygian troops + For their unmanly cowardice, and me + Their leader. Be assured, by Jove I swear, + All-gracious father, or the scourge or death + Shall wait you for such guilt, else deem that Hector + Is but a thing of nought, a very coward. + + CHOR. Great is, alas! my danger, mighty prince, + The foe stole in while I to you conveyed + Those tidings, that the Greeks around their ships + Had kindled fires: through all the live-long night + These watchful eyes have ne’er been sealed by sleep. + By Simois’ holy fountain I conjure you, + My royal lord, impute no blame to me, + For I am wholly guiltless. If you learn + That in my deeds or words I have offended, + Plunge me alive beneath earth’s deepest vault; + I ask no mercy. + + CHA. Why dost thou upbraid + These for the guilt? by plausible harangues + Wouldst thou impose on thy barbarian friends; + O thou barbarian, thou the bloody deed + Didst perpetrate; nor can our slaughtered comrades, + Nor we who linger pierced with ghastly wounds, + Admit that ’twas another. There requires + A long and subtle speech to make me think + Thou didst not basely murder thy allies, + Because the beauty of our steeds attracted + Thy admiration, and on their account + Hast thou slain those who at thy earnest prayer + Landed on Ilion’s shore; they came, they died. + With greater decency than thou observ’st, + Who dost assassinate thy friends, did Paris + The rites of hospitality infringe. + Pretend not that some Grecian came unseen + And smote us. Who subdued the Phrygian host, + Who reached our quarters unobserved by Hector? + Thou with the Trojan army wert before us; + But who was wounded, who among thy troops + Expired, when through their ranks as thou pretend’st + The foe to us advanced? But I was wounded, + And they, whom a more grievous ill o’ertook, + No more behold the sun. To be explicit, + I charge no Greek: what foe could come by night + And find out Rhesus’ tent, unless some god + Had told the murderers, for they sure knew nought + Of his arrival? therefore all this mischief + Must be thy sole contrivance. + + HEC. Our allies + Have long assisted us since first the Greeks + This realm invaded; and I never heard + They to my charge imputed any crime. + Could I begin with thee? by such desire + For beauteous steeds may I be never seized, + As to induce me to destroy my friends. + Ulysses was the author of this deed. + What Greek could have accomplished or contrived + Such an exploit, but he? Him much I fear: + My soul is also troubled lest he light + On Dolon too, and slay him, for ’tis long + Since he went forth, nor doth he yet return. + + CHA. I know not that Ulysses whom thou nam’st, + Nor did a foe inflict this ghastly wound. + + HEC. Therefore retain, since thus to thee it seems, + Thy own opinion. + + CHA. O my native land, + Might I but die in thee! + + HEC. Thou shalt not die: + For of the dead the number is sufficient. + + CHA. Reft of my lord, but whither shall I turn? + + HEC. Thou in my house shalt careful treatment find, + And healing balsams. + + CHA. Shall the ruthless hands + Of murderers dress my wounds? + + HEC. He will not cease + Alleging the same charge. + + CHA. Perdition seize + The author of this bloody deed! my tongue + Has fixed no charge, as thou pretend’st, on thee; + But Justice knows. + + HEC. Conduct him to my palace + With speed, that we may ’scape his clamorous plaints. + But you must go, and to the citizens + Proclaim, acquainting Priam, and the elders + Who sit in council, first, that I direct + The bodies of the slain shall be interred + With due respect beside the public road. + + [_Exit_ CHARIOTEER, _supported by one of_ + HECTOR’S _Attendants_. + + CHOR. Why from the summit of exalted bliss + Into fresh woes hath some malignant god + Plunged Troy, why caused this sad reverse of fortune? + +_The_ MUSE _appears in the air_, HECTOR, CHORUS. + + CHOR. High o’er our heads what deity, O king, + Is hovering? in her hands a recent corse + She bears: I shudder at the dreadful sight. + + MUSE. Ye Trojans, mark me well: for I a Muse + Who by the wise am worshipped, hither come, + One of the nine famed sisters, having seen + The wretched fate of this my dearest son, + Who by the foe was slain: but he who smote + The generous youth, Ulysses, that dissembler, + At length shall suffer as his crimes deserve. + + ODE. + + I. + + Parental anguish rends my breast, + For thee my son, my son, I grieve, + Thy mother sinks with woes oppressed. + Why didst thou take this road, why leave + Thy home, and march to Ilion’s gate, + Where death did thy arrival wait? + Oft with maternal zeal I strove + Thy luckless courage to restrain, + And oft thy sire opposed in vain. + But now with ineffectual love, + My dearest son, thee now no more, + Thee, O my son, must I deplore. + + CHOR. As far as bosoms, by no kindred ties + United, can partake a mother’s grief, + Do I bewail thy son’s untimely fate. + + MUSE. + + II. + + On him your tenfold vengeance shed + From Oeneus who derives his birth, + Smite base Ulysses’ perjured head, + Ye fiends who desolate the earth; + Through them with agonizing pain + I mourn my valiant offspring slain; + May Helen too partake their doom, + Who from her bridal mansions fled, + And sought th’ adulterer’s Phrygian bed; + For thou in Troy art to the tomb + By her consigned; and many a state + Bewails its bravest warriors’ fate. + + Much while on earth, and since thy murmuring ghost + Was plunged in Orcus’ dreary mansions more, + O offspring of Philammon, didst thou wound + My soul: that arrogance which caused thy ruin, + That contest with Pieria’s choir, gave birth + To this unhappy youth: for having passed + The rapid current, with incautious step + Approaching Strymon’s genial bed, we mounted + Pangæum’s summit, for its golden mines + Distinguished; each melodious instrument + Around us in full concert breathed; our strife + Was there decided with the Thracian minstrel; + That Thamyris who dared blaspheme our art, + We of his eyes deprived. But since I bore + Thee, O my son, through deference for my sisters, + And for my own reputed chastity, + Thee to the watery mansions of thy sire + I sent; and Strymon, to no human care, + But to the nymphs who haunt his limpid founts, + For nurture did consign thee; from those virgins + When, O my dearest son, thou hadst received + The best of educations, thou becam’st + Monarch of Thrace, the first of men. I felt + No boding apprehensions of thy death; + By thee, while marshalled on thy native ground, + Athirst for blood the dauntless squadrons moved. + But thee I cautioned, for I knew thy fate, + That thou to Troy shouldst never go; but thee + Th’ ambassadors of Hector and the Senate, + By oft repeated messages, persuaded + To come to the assistance of thy friends. + Yet think not, O Minerva, thou sole cause + Of my son’s fate, that thou these watchful eyes + Hast ’scaped; Ulysses and the son of Tydeus + Were not the authors of this bloody deed, + Although they gave the wound. We sister Muses + Honour thy city, in thy land we dwell. + Orpheus, the kinsman of this hapless youth + Whom thou hast slain, dark mysteries did unfold; + And by Apollo, and our sister choir, + Thy venerable citizen Musæus + Was taught to soar beyond each warbled strain + Of pristine melody: but in return + For all these favours, bearing in my arms + My son, I utter this funereal dirge; + But I no other minstrel will employ. + + CHOR. Falsely the wounded Thracian charioteer + Charged us with a conspiracy to slay him. + + HEC. Full well I knew, there needed not a seer + T’ inform me, that he perished by the arts + Of Ithacus. But was it not my duty + When I my country saw by Grecian troops + Besieged, to send forth heralds to my friends, + Requesting them to aid us? I did send, + And Rhesus came, by gratitude constrained, + Illustrious partner of my toils. His death + Lamenting, will I raise a tomb to grace + The corse of my ally, and o’er the flame + Strew tissued vests: for with confederate arms + Dauntless he came, though piteous was his death. + + MUSE. They shall not plunge him in the yawning grave, + Such vows will I address to Pluto’s bride, + Daughter of fruitful Ceres, to release + His ghost from the drear shades beneath: she owes + To Orpheus’ friends such honours. But henceforth, + Dead as it were to me, will he no more + Behold the sun, we ne’er must meet again, + Nor shall he see his mother, but shall lie + Concealed beneath the caverns of that land + With silver mines abounding, from a man + Exalted to a god, restored to life, + The priest of Bacchus, and of him who dwells + Beneath Pangeum’s rock, a god adored + By those who haunt his orgies. But ere long + To yonder goddess of the briny waves + Shall I bear doleful tidings: for by fate + It is decreed, her offspring too shall die; + But first our sisterhood, in choral plaints, + Will sing of thee, O Rhesus, and hereafter + Achilles, son of Thetis, shall demand + Our elegiac strains, not she who slew + Thee, hapless youth, Minerva, can redeem him; + Such an inevitable shaft is stored + In Phœbus’ quiver. O ye pangs that rend + A mother’s breast, ye toils the lot of man; + They who behold you in your real light + Will live without a progeny, nor mourn + With hopeless anguish o’er their children’s tomb. + + [_Exit the_ MUSE. + + CHOR. To bury the deceased with honours due, + Will be his mother’s care: but if, O Hector, + Thou mean’st to execute some great emprise, + ’Tis now the time: for morn already dawns. + + HEC. Go, and this instant bid our comrades arm, + Harness the steeds: but while ye in these toils + Are busied, ye the signal must await, + Th’ Etrurian trumpet’s clangour; for I trust + I first shall o’er the Grecian host prevail, + Shall storm their ramparts, and then burn their fleet, + And that Hyperion’s orient beams will bring + A day of freedom to Troy’s valiant race. + + CHOR. Obey the monarch: clad in glittering mail + Let us go forth, and his behests proclaim + To our associates; for that god who fights + Our battles, haply will bestow success. + + + + +THE TROJAN CAPTIVES. + + +PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. + + NEPTUNE. + MINERVA. + HECUBA. + CHORUS OF CAPTIVE TROJAN DAMES. + TALTHYBIUS. + CASSANDRA. + ANDROMACHE. + MENELAUS. + HELEN. + + +SCENE.—BEFORE THE ENTRANCE OF AGAMEMNON’S TENT IN THE GRECIAN CAMP NEAR +TROY. + +NEPTUNE. + + From the Ægean deep, in mazy dance + Where Nereus’ daughters glide with agile feet, + I Neptune hither come. For round the fields + Of Ilion, since Apollo and myself + With symmetry exact reared many a tower + Hewn from the solid rock; the love I bore + The city where my Phrygian votaries dwelt, + Laid waste by Greece, where smoke e’en now ascends + The heavens, hath ne’er been rooted from this breast, + For on Parnassus bred, the Phocian chief + Epeus, by Minerva’s arts inspired, + Framed with a skilful hand, and through the gates + Sent that accursed machine, the horse which teemed + With ambushed javelins. Through forsaken groves, + Through the polluted temples of the gods, + Flow tides of crimson slaughter; at the base + Of altars sacred to Hercæan Jove, + Fell hoary Priam. But huge heaps of gold + And Phrygian plunder, to the fleet of Greece + Are sent: the leaders of the host that sacked + This city, wait but for a prosperous breeze, + That after ten years absence they their wives + And children may with joy behold. Subdued + By Juno, Argive goddess, and Minerva, + Who leagued in Phrygia’s overthrow, I leave + Troy the renowned, and my demolished shrines. + For when pernicious solitude extends + O’er cities her inexorable sway, + Abandoned are the temples of the gods, + None comes to worship there. Scamander’s banks + Re-echo many a shriek of captive dames + Distributed by lot; th’ Arcadians, some, + Some the Thessalians gain, and some the sons + Of Theseus leaders of th’ Athenian troops: + But they whom chance distributes not, remain + Beneath yon roof selected by the chiefs + Of the confederate army. Justly deemed + A captive, among them is Spartan Helen: + And if the stranger wishes to behold + That wretched woman, Hecuba lies stretched + Before the gate, full many are her tears, + And her afflictions many: at the tomb + Of stern Achilles her unhappy daughter + Polyxena died wretchedly, her lord + The royal Priam, and her sons are slain, + That spotless virgin too whom from his shrine + Apollo with prophetic gifts inspired, + Cassandra, spurning every sacred rite, + Did Agamemnon violently drag + To his adulterous bed. But, O farewell, + Thou city prosperous once; ye splendid towers, + Had not Minerva’s self ordained your fall, + Ye still on your firm basis might remain. + +MINERVA, NEPTUNE. + + MIN. May I accost the god who to my sire + In blood is nearest, mighty, through high Heaven + Revered, and lay aside our ancient hate? + + NEP. ’Tis well, thou royal maid: an interview + ’Twixt those of the same house, is to the soul + An efficacious philtre. + + MIN. I applaud + Those who are temperate in their wrath, and bring + Such arguments, O monarch, as affect + Both you and me. + + NEP. From all th’ assembled gods + Some new commission bear’st thou, or from Jove, + Or what celestial power? + + MIN. From none of these. + But in the cause of Troy, whose fields we tread, + I to your aid betake me, and would join + Our common strength. + + NEP. Hast thou then laid aside + Thy former hate, to pity Troy, consumed + By the relentless flames? + + MIN. First, thither turn + Your views: to me will you unfold your counsels, + And aid the schemes I would effect? + + NEP. With joy: + But I meanwhile would thy designs explore, + Whether thou com’st on the behalf of Greece, + Or Troy. + + MIN. The Trojans, erst my foes, I wish + To cheer, and to embitter the return + Of the victorious Grecian host. + + NEP. What means + This change of temper? to excess thou hat’st + And lov’st at random. + + MIN. Know you not the insult + Which hath been shown to me, and to my temple? + + NEP. I know that Ajax violently tore + Cassandra thence. + + MIN. Yet by the Greeks unpunished + He ’scaped, and e’en uncensured. + + NEP. Though the Greeks + O’erthrew Troy’s walls through thy auxiliar might—— + + MIN. And for this very cause will I conspire + With you to punish them. + + NEP. I am prepared + For any enterprise thou wilt. What mean’st thou? + + MIN. Their journey home I am resolved to make + Most inauspicious. + + NEP. While they yet remain + Upon the shore, or ’midst the briny waves? + + MIN. As to their homes from Ilion’s coast they sail. + For Jove will send down rain, immoderate hail, + And pitchy blasts of air: he promises + To give me too his thunderbolts to smite + The Greeks and fire their ships; but join your aid, + Cause the Ægean deep with threefold waves, + And ocean’s whirlpools horribly to rage, + Fill with their courses the unfathomed caves + Beneath Eubœa’s rocks, that Greece may learn + My shrines to reverence, nor provoke the gods. + + NEP. It shall be done: there need not many words + To recommend thy suit. My storms shall rouse + Th’ Ægean deep; the shores of Myconè, + Scyros with Lemnos, all the Delian rocks, + And steep Caphareus with full many a corse + Will I o’erspread. But mount Olympus’ height, + And from the Thunderer’s hand his flaming shafts + Receiving, mark when the devoted host + Of Greece weigh anchor. Frantic is the man + Who dares to lay the peopled city waste, + Temples with tombs profaning, and bereaves + Of their inhabitants those sacred vaults + Where sleep the dead; at length shall vengeance smite + That hardened miscreant in his bold career. + + [_Exeunt._ + +_The Scene opens, and discovers_ HECUBA _on a couch_. + + HEC. Arise, thou wretch, and from the dust uplift + Thy drooping head; though Ilion be no more, + And thou a queen no longer, yet endure + With patience Fortune’s change, and as the tide + Or as capricious Fortune wills, direct + Thy sails, nor turn against the dashing wave + Life’s stubborn prow, for chance must guide thy voyage. + Alas! for what but groans belongs to me + Whose country, children, husband, are no more? + Oh, mighty splendour of my sires, now pent + In a small tomb, how art thou found a thing + Of no account! What portion of my woes + Shall I suppress, or what describe, how frame + A plaintive strain? Now fixed on this hard couch, + Wretch that I am, are my unwieldy limbs. + Ah me! my head, my temples, ah, my side! + Oh, how I wish to turn, and to stretch forth + These joints! My tears shall never cease to flow, + For like the Muse’s lyre, th’ affecting tale + Of their calamities consoles the wretched. + Ye prows of those swift barks which to the coast + Of fated Ilion, from the Grecian ports + Adventurous launched amid the purple wave, + Accompanied by inauspicious pæans + From pipes, and the shrill flute’s enlivening voice, + While from the mast devolved the twisted cordage + By Egypt first devised, ye to the bay + Of Troy did follow Menelaus’ wife, + Helen, abhorred adult’ress, who disgraced + Castor her brother, and Eurotas’ stream: + She murdered Priam, sire of fifty sons, + And me the wretched Hecuba hath plunged + Into this misery. Here, alas! I sit + In my loathed prison, Agamemnon’s tent; + From princely mansions dragged, an aged slave, + My hoary tresses shorn, this head deformed + With baldness. But, alas! ye hapless wives + Of Ilion’s dauntless warriors, blooming maids, + And brides affianced in an evil hour, + Together let us weep, for Ilion’s smoke + Ascends the skies. Like the maternal bird, + Who wails her callow brood, I now commence + A strain far different from what erst was heard + When I on mighty Priam’s sceptred state + Proudly relying, led the Phrygian dance + Before the hallowed temples of the gods. + + [_She rises, and comes forth from the tent._ + +SEMICHORUS, HECUBA. + + SEMICHOR. O Hecuba, what mean these clamorous notes, + These shrieks of woe? for from the vaulted roof + Thy plaints re-echoing smite my distant ear, + And fresh alarms seize every Phrygian dame + Who in these tents enslaved deplores her fate. + + HEC. E’en now, my daughter, at the Grecian fleet + Th’ exulting sailors ply their oars. + + SEMICHOR. Ah me! + What mean they? will they instantly convey me + Far from my ruined country? + + HEC. By conjecture + Alone am I acquainted with our doom. + + SEMICHOR. Soon shall we hear this sentence: “From these doors + Come forth ye Trojan captives, for the Greeks + Are now preparing to return.” + + HEC. O cease, + My friends, nor from her chambers hither bring + Cassandra, frantic prophetess, defiled + By Argive ruffians, for the sight of her + Would but increase my griefs. + + SEMICHOR. Troy, wretched Troy, + Thou art no more, they to whom fate ordains + No longer on thy fostering soil to dwell + Are wretched, both the living and the slain. + +CHORUS, HECUBA. + + CHOR. Trembling I come from Agamemnon’s tent, + Of thee my royal mistress to inquire + Whether the Greeks have doomed me to be slain, + And whether yet along the poop arranged + The mariners prepare to ply their oars. + + HEC. Deprived of sleep through horror, O my daughter, + I hither came: but on the road I see + A Grecian herald. + + CHOR. Tell me to what lord + Am wretched I consigned. + + HEC. E’en now the lot + Is casting to decide your fate. + + CHOR. What chief + To Argos, or to Phthia, me shall bear, + Or to some island, sorrowing, far from Troy? + + HEC. To whom shall wretched I, and in what land + Become a slave, decrepit like the drone + Through age, mere semblance of a pallid corse, + Or flitting spectre from the realms beneath? + Shall I be stationed or to watch the door, + Or tend the children of a haughty lord, + Erst placed at Troy in rank supreme? + + CHOR. Alas! + + HEC. With what loud plaints dost thou revive thy woes! + + CHOR. I never more through Ida’s loom shall dart + The shuttle, nor behold a blooming race + Of children, in those lighter tasks employed + Which suit the young and beauteous, to the couch + Of some illustrious Greek conveyed, the joys + Which night and fortune yields are lost to me; + Or filled with water, from Pirene’s spring + Shall I be doomed to bear the ponderous urn. + + HEC. O could we reach the famed and happy realm + Of Theseus, distant from Eurotas’ tide, + And curst Therapne’s gates, where I should meet + Perfidious Helen, and remain a slave + To Menelaus, who demolished Troy. + + CHOR. By fame’s loud voice I am informed, the vale + Of Peneus, at Olympus base, abounds + With wealth and plenteous fruitage. + + HEC. This I make + My second option, next the blest domain + Of Theseus. + + CHOR. I am told that Vulcan’s realm + Of Ætna, opposite Phœnicia’s coast + The mother of Sicilian hills, is famed + For palms obtained by valour. Through the realm + Adjacent, bordering on th’ Ionian deep, + Crathis the bright, for auburn hair renowned, + The tribute of its holy current pours, + And scatters blessings o’er a martial land. + But lo, with hasty step a herald comes + Bearing some message from the Grecian host! + What is his errand? for we now are slaves + To yon proud rulers of the Doric realm. + +TALTHYBIUS, HECUBA, CHORUS. + + TAL. O Hecuba, full oft, you know, to Troy + I, as their herald, by the Grecian host + Have been despatched; you cannot be a stranger + To me, Talthybius, who to you, and all, + One message bring. + + HEC. This, this, my dearest friends, + Is what I long have feared. + + TAL. The lots are cast + Already, if your terrors thence arose. + + HEC. Alas, to what Thessalian city saidst thou, + Or to the Phthian, or the Theban realm + Shall we be carried? + + TAL. To a separate lord + Hath each of you distinctly been assigned. + + HEC. To whom, alas, to whom am I allotted? + What Phrygian dames do happier fortunes wait? + + TAL. I know; but be distinct in your inquiries, + Nor ask at once a multitude of questions. + + HEC. Say who by lot hath gained my wretched daughter + Cassandra? + + TAL. Her the royal Agamemnon + His chosen prize hath taken. + + HEC. As a slave + To tend his Spartan wife? ah, me! + + TAL. No slave, + But concubine. + + HEC. What, Phœbus’ votive maid, + To whom the god with golden tresses gave + This privilege, that she should pass her life + In celibacy? + + TAL. With the shafts of love + Hath the prophetic nymph transpierced his breast. + + HEC. My daughter, cast the sacred keys away, + And rend the garlands thou with pride didst wear. + + TAL. Is it not great for captives to ascend + The regal couch? + + HEC. But where is she whom late + Ye took away, and whither have ye borne + That daughter? + + TAL. Speak you of Polyxena, + Or for whom else would you inquire? + + HEC. On whom + Hath chance bestowed her? + + TAL. At Achilles’ tomb + It is decreed that she shall minister. + + HEC. Wretch that I am! for his sepulchral rites + Have I then borne a priestess? but what law + Is this, what Grecian usage, O my friend? + + TAL. Esteem your daughter happy; for with her + All now is well. + + HEC. What saidst thou? doth she live? + + TAL. ’Tis her peculiar fate to be released + From all affliction. + + HEC. But, alas! what fortune + Attends the warlike Hector’s captive wife, + How fares it with the lost Andromache? + + TAL. Her to Achilles’ son hath from the band + Of captives chosen. + + HEC. As to me who need + For a third foot, the staff which in these hands + I hold, whose head is whitened o’er with age, + To whom am I a slave? + + TAL. By lot the king + Of Ithaca Ulysses hath obtained you. + + HEC. Alas! alas! let your shorn temples feel + The frequent blow; rend your discoloured cheeks. + Ah me! I am allotted for a slave + To a detestable and treacherous man, + Sworn foe of justice, to that lawless viper, + With double tongue confounding all, ’twixt friends + Exciting bitter hate. Ye Trojan dames, + O shed the sympathizing tear: I sink + Beneath the pressure of relentless fate. + + CHOR. Thy doom, O queen, thou know’st: but to what chief, + Hellenian or Achaian, I belong + Inform me. + + TAL. Peace! Conduct Cassandra hither + With speed, ye guards, into our general’s hands + When I his captive have delivered up, + That we the rest may portion out. Why gleams + That blazing torch within? would Ilion’s dames + Their chambers fire? what mean they? doomed to leave + This land, and to be borne to Argive shores, + Are they resolved to perish in the flames? + The soul, inspired with an unbounded love + Of freedom, ill sustains such woes. Burst open + The doors, lest, to their honour and the shame + Of Greece, on me the censure fall. + + HEC. They kindle + No conflagration, but, with frantic step, + My daughter, lo! Cassandra rushes hither. + +CASSANDRA, TALTHYBIUS, HECUBA, CHORUS. + + CAS. Avaunt! the sacred flame I bring + With reverential awe profound, + And wave the kindled torch around, + O Hymen, thou benignant king. + The bridegroom comes with jocund pride, + I too am styled a happy bride, + My name through Argos’ streets shall ring, + O Hymen, thou benignant king! + While thou attend’st my father’s bier, + O Hecuba, with many a tear, + While Ilion’s ramparts overthrown + From thee demand th’ incessant groan, + Ere the bright sun withhold his ray, + E’en in the glaring front of day, + I bid the nuptial incense blaze + To thee, O Hymen, thee whose power + Invoking at her bridal hour + The bashful virgin comes. Yon maze + Encircling, ’mid the choral dance, + As ancient usage bids, advance, + And in thy hand a flaming pine, + O mother, brandish. God of wine, + Thy shouting votaries hither bring, + As if in Ilion thou hadst found + Old Priam still a happy king. + Range that holy group around, + O Phœbus, in thy laureate mead, + Thy temple, shall the victim bleed. + Let Hymen, Hymen, Hymen, sound. + My mother, for the dance prepare, + Vault nimbly, and our revels share. + At Hymen’s shrine, my friends, prolong + Your vows, awake th’ ecstatic song; + In honour of my bridal day, + Chant, Phrygian nymphs, the choral lay, + And celebrate the chief whom fate + Ordains to be Cassandra’s mate. + + CHOR. Wilt thou not stop the princess, lest she rush + With frantic step amid the Grecian host? + + HEC. O Vulcan, wont to light the bridal torch, + Now dost thou brandish an accursed flame; + My soul foresaw not this. Alas! my daughter, + I little thought, that ’midst the din of arms, + Or while we crouch beneath the Argive spear, + Thou couldst have celebrated such espousals. + Give me the torch, for while with frantic speed + Thou rushest on, it trembles in thy hand. + Nor yet have thy afflictions, O my daughter, + Brought back thy wandering reason, thou remain’st + Disordered as before. Ye Trojan dames, + Remove yon blazing pines, and in the stead + Of these her bridal songs let tears express + The anguish of your souls. + + CAS. O mother, place + A laureate wreath on my victorious brow, + Exulting lead me to the monarch’s bed. + And if for thee too slowly I advance, + Drag me along by force; for I am now + No more the spouse of Phœbus; but that king + Of Greece, famed Agamemnon, shall in me + Take to his arms a bride more inauspicious + Than even Helen’s self: him will I smite, + And lay his palace waste, in great revenge + For my slain sire and brothers. But I cease + These menaces, and speak not of the axe + Which shall smite me and others, or the conflict + My wedlock shall produce, whence by the hands + Of her own son a mother shall be slain, + And th’ overthrow of Atreus’ guilty house. + This city will I prove to have been happier + Than the victorious Greeks (for though the gods + Inspire, I curb the transports of my soul), + Who for one single woman, to regain + The beauteous Helen only, wasted lives + Unnumbered. Their wise leader, in the cause + Of those he hated, slew whom most he loved; + He to his brother yielded up his daughter, + Joy of his house, for that vile woman’s sake, + Who with her own consent, and not by force, + Was borne away. But at Scamander’s banks + When they arrived, they died, though not by exile + Torn from their country, or their native towers: + But them who in embattled fields were slain + Their children saw not, nor in decent shroud + Were they enwrapped by their loved consorts’ hands, + But lie deserted on a foreign coast: + Their sorrows also who remained at home + Are similar; in widowhood forlorn + Some die; and others, of their own brave sons + Deprived, breed up the children of a stranger; + Nor at their slighted tombs is blood poured forth + To drench the thirsty ground. Their host deserves + Praises like these. ’Tis better not to speak + Of what is infamous, nor shall my Muse + Record the shameful tale. But, first and greatest + Of glories, in their country’s cause expired + The Trojans; the remains of those who fell + In battle, by their friends borne home, obtained + Sepulchral honours in their native soil, + That duteous office kindred hands performed: + While every Phrygian who escaped the sword + Still with his wife and children did reside, + Joy to the Greeks unknown. Now hear the fate + Of Hector, him whom thou bewail’st, esteemed + The bravest of our heroes, by the Greeks + Landing on Ilion’s coast the warrior fell; + In their own country had the foe remained, + His valour ne’er had been displayed: but Paris + Wedded the daughter of imperial Jove, + In her possessing an illustrious bride. + It is the wise man’s duty to avoid + Perilous war. After the die is cast, + He who undaunted meets the fatal stroke, + Adds to his native city fair renown; + But the last moments of a coward shame + The land which gave him birth. Forbear to weep, + My mother, for thy ruined country’s fate; + Weep not because thou seest thy daughter borne + To Agamemnon’s bed, for by these spousals + Our most inveterate foes shall I destroy. + + CHOR. How sweetly ’midst the sorrows of thy house + Thou smil’st! ere long perchance wilt thou afford + A melancholy instance that thy strains + Are void of truth. + + TAL. Had not Apollo fired + E’en to distraction thy perverted soul, + Thou on my honoured leader, ere he quit + The shores of Ilion, shouldst not unavenged + Pour forth these omens. But, alas! the great, + And they who in th’ opinion of mankind + Are wise, in no respect excel the vulgar. + For the dread chieftain of the Grecian host, + The son of Atreus, loves with boundless passion + This damsel frantic as the Mænades. + Myself am poor, yet would not I accept + A wife like her. Since thou hast lost thy reason, + I to the winds consign thy bitter taunts + ’Gainst Argos, with the praises thou bestow’st + On Troy. Thou bride of Agamemnon, come, + Follow me to the fleet. But when Ulysses + Would bear you hence, O Hecuba, obey + The summons, you are destined to attend + A queen called virtuous by all those who come + To Ilion. + + CAS. Arrogant, detested slave! + All heralds are like thee, the public scorn, + Crouching with abject deference to some king + Or city. Say’st thou, “To Ulysses’ house + My mother shall be borne?” Of what account + Were then the oracles Apollo gave + Uttered by me his priestess, which declare, + “She here shall die?” I spare the shameful tale. + He knows not, the unhappy Ithacus, + What evils yet await him, in the tears + Of me and every captive Phrygian maid, + While he exults, and deems our misery gain. + Ten more long years elapsed beyond the term + Spent in besieging Ilion, he alone + Shall reach his country; witness thou who dwell’st + ’Midst ocean’s straits tempestuous, dire Charybdis, + Ye mountains where on human victims feast + The Cyclops, with Ligurian Circe’s isle, + Whose wand transforms to swine, the billowy deep, + Covered with shipwrecks, the bewitching Lotus, + The sacred Oxen of the Sun, whose flesh + Destined to utter a tremendous voice + The banquet shall embitter: he at length, + In a few words his history to comprise, + Alive must travel to the shades beneath, + And hardly ’scaping from a watery grave + In his own house find evils numberless. + But why do I recount Ulysses’ toils? + Lead on, that I the sooner in the realms + Of Pluto, with that bridegroom may consummate + My nuptials. Ruthless miscreant as thou art, + Thou in the tomb ignobly shalt be plunged + At midnight; nor shall the auspicious beams + Of day illumine thy funereal rites, + O leader of the Grecian host, who deem’st + That thou a mighty conquest hast achieved. + Near to my lord’s remains, and in that vale, + Where down a precipice the torrent foams, + My corse shall to the hungry wolves be thrown, + The corse of Phœbus’ priestess. O ye wreaths + Of him whom best of all the gods I loved, + Adieu, ye symbols of my holy office, + I leave those feasts the scenes of past delight, + Torn from my brows avaunt, for I retain + My chastity unsullied still; the winds + To thee shall waft them, O prophetic king. + Where is your general’s bark, which I am doomed + T’ ascend? the rising breezes shall unfurl + Your sails this instant; for in me ye bear + One of the three Eumenides from Troy. + Farewell, my mother, weep not for my fate, + O my dear country, my heroic brothers, + And aged father, in the realms beneath, + Ere long shall ye receive me: but victorious + Will I descend among the mighty dead, + When I have laid th’ accursed mansions waste + Of our destroyers, Atreus’ impious sons. + + [_Exeunt_ CASSANDRA _and_ TALTHYBIUS. + + CHOR. Attendants of the aged Hecuba, + Behold ye not your mistress, how she falls + Upon the pavement speechless? Why neglect + To prop her sinking frame! Ye slothful nymphs, + Raise up this woman, whom a weight of years + Bows to the dust. + + HEC. Away, and on this spot + Allow me, courteous damsels, to remain: + No longer welcome as in happier days + Are your kind offices; this humble posture, + This fall best suits my present lowly state, + Best suits what I already have endured + And still am doomed to suffer. O ye gods, + In you I call upon no firm allies, + Yet sure ’tis decent to invoke the gods + When we by adverse fortune are opprest. + First, therefore, all the blessings I enjoyed + Would I recount, hence shall my woes demand + The greater pity. Born to regal state, + And with a mighty king in wedlock joined, + A race of valiant sons did I produce; + I speak not of their numbers, but the noblest + Among the Phrygian youths, such as no Trojan, + Nor Grecian, nor barbarian dame could boast: + Them saw I fall beneath the hostile spear, + And at their tomb these tresses cut: their sire, + The venerable Priam, I bewailed not, + From being told of his calamitous fate + By others, but these eyes beheld him slain, + E’en at the altar of Hercæan Jove, + And Ilion taken. I those blooming maids + Have also lost, whom with maternal love + I nurtured for some noble husband’s bed; + They from these arms are torn: nor can I hope + Or to be seen by them, or e’er to see + My children more. But last of all, to crown + My woes, an aged slave, shall I be borne + To Greece; and in such tasks will they employ me + As are most grievous in the wane of life; + Me, who am Hector’s mother, at the door + Stationed to keep the keys, or knead the bread, + And on the pavement stretch my withered limbs, + Which erst reposed upon a regal couch, + And in such tattered vestments, as belie + My former rank, enwrap my wasted frame. + Wretch that I am, who, through one woman’s nuptials, + Have borne, and am hereafter doomed to bear, + Such dreadful ills. O my unhappy daughter, + Cassandra, whom the gods have rendered frantic, + With what sad omens hath thy virgin zone + Been loosed! and where, Polyxena, art thou, + O virgin most unfortunate? but none + Of all my numerous progeny, or male + Or female, comes to aid their wretched mother. + Why, therefore, would ye lift me up? what room + Is there for hope? me who with tender foot + Paced through the streets of Troy, but now a slave, + Drag from the palace to the rushy mat + And stony pillow, that where’er I fall + There may I die, through many, many tears + Exhausted. Of the prosperous and the great + Pronounce none happy till the hour of death. + +CHORUS. + + ODE. + + I. + + Prepare, O Muse, prepare a song + Expressive of the fall of Troy; + The sympathetic dirge prolong + And banish every note of joy. + I with loud voice of Ilion’s fate will speak, + Sing how the foe our ramparts stormed + Through the machine their treachery formed, + The vehicle of many a daring Greek, + Who burst like thunder from that wooden steed, + With gorgeous trappings graced, in mimic state, + Concealing armed bands, which passed the Scæan gate, + They whom such semblance could mislead, + The unsuspecting crowd, + As on Troy’s citadel they stood, + Exclaimed; “Henceforth our toils shall cease, + Come on, and to Minerva’s fane convey + This holy image, pledge of peace.” + What veteran paused? what youth but led the way? + Enlivening songs breathed round in notes so sweet, + That gladly they received the pestilential cheat. + + II. + + Then did all Phrygia’s race combine + Through their devoted gates to bear, + Enclosed in the stupendous pine + The fraud of Greece, that latent snare, + To glut Minerva with Dardanian blood, + To pacify th’ immortal maid, + They the huge mass with ropes conveyed: + Thus the tall bark, into the briny flood + Too ponderous to be borne, is rolled along: + Till they had lodged it in th’ ill-omened fane + Of her to whom we owe our ruined country’s bane. + After their toil and festive song, + The cloud-wrapped evening spread + Her veil o’er each devoted head, + Shrill Phrygian voices did resound, + And Libya’s flutes accompanied the choir, + While nymphs high vaulting from the ground, + Mixed their applauses with the chorded lyre, + And from each hearth the flames with radiance bright, + While heedless warriors slept, dispelled the shades of night. + + III. + + Then o’er the genial board, to her who reigns + In woodland heights, Diana, child of Jove, + I waked the choral strains. + But soon there flew a dismal sound + Pergamus’ wide streets around: + The shrieking infant fondly strove + To grasp the border of a mother’s vest, + And with uplifted hands its little fears expressed: + Mars from his ambush by Minerva’s aid + Conspicuous issued and the fray began, + Thick gore adown our altars ran, + And many a slaughtered youth was laid + A headless trunk on the disfigured bed, + That Greece might shine with laureate wreaths arrayed, + By Troy while fruitless tears are shed. + +ANDROMACHE, HECUBA, CHORUS. + + CHOR. Seest thou, Andromache, O queen, this way + Advancing, wafted in a foreign car? + Eager to cling to the maternal breast + Close follows her beloved Astyanax, + The son of Hector. + + HEC. Whither art thou borne, + O wretched woman, on a chariot placed + ’Midst Hector’s brazen armour, and those spoils + From captive Phrygian chiefs in combat torn, + With which Achilles’ son from Ilion’s siege + Triumphant, will the Phthian temples grace? + + AND. Our Grecian masters drag me hence. + + HEC. Alas! + + AND. Why with your groans my anguish strive t’ assuage? + + HEC. Oh! + + AND. I by griefs am compassed—— + + HEC. Mighty Jove! + + AND. And dread vicissitudes of fate. + + HEC. My children. + + AND. We once were blest. + + HEC. Now are those prosperous days + No more; and Ilion is no more. + + AND. Most wretched! + + HEC. My noble sons. + + AND. Alas! + + HEC. Alas my—— + + AND. Woes. + + HEC. O piteous fortune—— + + AND. Of the city—— + + HEC. Wrapt + In smoke. + + AND. Return, my husband, O return. + + HEC. In clamorous accents thou invok’st my son, + Whom Pluto’s realms detain, unhappy woman. + + AND. Thy consort’s tutelary power. + + HEC. And thou, + Whose courage long withstood the Grecian host, + Thou aged father of our numerous race, + Lead me, O Priam, to the shades beneath. + + AND. Presumptuous are such wishes. + + HEC. We endure + These grievous woes. + + CHOR. While ruin overwhelms + Our city, for on sorrows have been heaped + Fresh sorrows, through the will of angry Heaven, + Since in an evil hour thy son was snatched + From Pluto, who, determined to avenge + Those execrable nuptials, with the ground + Hath levelled Pergamus’ beleaguered towers. + Near Pallas’ shrine the corses of the slain + Weltering in gore to vultures lie exposed, + And Ilion droops beneath the servile yoke. + Thee, O my wretched country, I with tears + Forsake: e’en now thou view’st the piteous end + Of all thy woes, and my loved native house. + + HEC. My children! O my desolated city! + Your mother is bereft of every joy. + + CHOR. What shrieks, what plaints resound! what floods of tears + Stream in our houses! but the dead forget + Their sorrows, and for ever cease to weep. + + HEC. To those who suffer, what a sweet relief + Do tears afford! the sympathetic Muse + Inspires their plaints. + + AND. O mother of that chief, + Whose forceful javelin thinned the ranks of Greece, + Illustrious Hector, seest thou this? + + HEC. I see + The gods delight in raising up the low, + And ruining the great. + + AND. Hence with my son, + A captive am I hurried; noble birth + Subject to these vicissitudes now sinks + Into degrading slavery. + + HEC. Uncontrolled + The power of fate: Cassandra from these arms + But now with brutal violence was torn! + + AND. A second Ajax to thy daughter seems + To have appeared. Yet hast thou other griefs. + + HEC. All bounds, all numbers they exceed; with ills + Fresh ills as for pre-eminence contend. + + AND. Polyxena, thy daughter, at the tomb + Of Peleus’ son hath breathed her last, a gift + To the deceased. + + HEC. Wretch that I am, alas! + Too clearly now I understand the riddle + Which in obscurer terms Talthybius uttered. + + AND. I saw her bleed, and lighting from this car + Covered her with the decent shroud and wailed + O’er her remains. + + HEC. Alas! alas! my child + To bloody altars dragged by impious hands, + Alas! alas! how basely wert thou slain! + + AND. Most dreadfully she perished; yet her lot + Who perished is more enviable than mine. + + HEC. Far different, O my daughter, is the state + Of them who live, from them who breathe no more: + For the deceased are nothing: but fair hope, + While life remains, can never be extinct. + + AND. Thou whom, although I sprung not from thy womb, + I deem a mother, to my cheering words + With patience listen, they will yield delight + To thy afflicted soul. ’Tis the same thing + Ne’er to be born, or die; but better far + To die, than to live wretched: for no sorrow + Affects th’ unconscious tenant of the grave. + But he who once was happy, he who falls + From fortune’s summit down the vale of woe, + With an afflicted spirit wanders o’er + The scenes of past delight. In the cold grave, + Like one who never saw the blessed sun, + Polyxena remembers not her woes. + But I who aimed the dextrous shaft, and gained + An ample portion of renown, have missed + The mark of happiness. In Hector’s house + I acted as behoves each virtuous dame. + First, whether sland’rous tongues assail or spare + The matron’s chastity, an evil name, + Her who remains not at her home, pursues: + Such vain desires I therefore quelled, I stayed + In my own chamber, a domestic life + Preferring, and forbore to introduce + Vain sentimental language, such as gains + Too oft the ear of woman: ’twas enough + For me to yield obedience to the voice + Of virtue, that best monitor. My lord + With placid aspect and a silent tongue + I still received, for I that province knew + In which I ought to rule, and when to yield + Submission to a husband’s will. The fame + This conduct gained me, reached the Grecian camp, + And proved my ruin: for when I became + A captive, Neoptolemus resolved + To take me to his bed, and in the house + Of murderers I to slavery am consigned. + If shaking off my Hector’s loved remembrance + To this new husband I my soul incline, + I shall appear perfidious to the dead; + Or, if I hate Achilles’ son, become + Obnoxious to my lords; though some assert + That one short night can reconcile th’ aversion + Of any woman to the nuptial couch; + I scorn that widow, reft of her first lord, + Who listens to the voice of love, and weds + Another. From her comrade torn, the mare + Sustains the yoke reluctant, though a brute + Dumb and irrational, by nature formed + Subordinate to man: but I in thee + Possessed a husband, O my dearest Hector, + In wisdom, fortune, and illustrious birth, + For me sufficient, great in martial deeds: + A spotless virgin-bride, me from the house + Of my great father, didst thou first receive; + But thou art slain, and I to Greece must sail + A captive, and endure the servile yoke! + Is not the death of that Polyxena, + Whom thou, O Hecuba, bewail’st, an ill + More tolerable than those which I endure? + For hope, who visits every wretch beside, + To me ne’er comes; to me no promised joys + Afford a flattering prospect to deceive + This anxious bosom; for ’tis sweet to think + E’en of ideal bliss. + + CHOR. Thou art involved + In the same sufferings, and in plaintive notes + Bewailing thy calamity, inform’st me + What treatment to expect. + + HEC. I ne’er did mount + A ship, yet I from pictures and report + These matters know: amidst a moderate storm, + Such as they hope to weather out, the sailors + To save themselves, exert a cheerful toil: + This to the rudder, to the shattered sails + That goes, a third laborious at the pump + Draws off the rising waters; but if vanquished + By the tempestuous ocean’s rage, they yield + To fortune, and consigning to the waves + Their vessel, are at random driven along. + Thus I am mute beneath unnumbered woes, + Nor can this tongue expatiate, for the gods + Such torrents pour as drown my feeble voice! + But, O my daughter, cease to name the fate + Of slaughtered Hector, whom no tears can save. + Pay due attention to thy present lord, + With amorous glances and a fond compliance + Receiving him; act thus, and thou wilt cheer + Our friends, and this my grandson educate + A bulwark to fallen Ilion, that his race + The city may rebuild, and dwell in Troy. + But a fresh topic of discourse ensues. + What servant of the Greeks do I behold + Again draw near, t’ announce some new design? + +TALTHYBIUS, ANDROMACHE, HECUBA, CHORUS. + + TAL. O thou who erst wert Hector’s wife, that bravest + Of Phrygians, hate me not; for with reluctance + Will I the general sentence of the Greeks + And Pelops’ progeny, announce. + + AND. What means + This evil prelude. + + TAL. ’Tis decreed thy son— + How shall I speak it? + + AND. To a separate lord + Shall be consigned? + + TAL. None of the Grecian chiefs + Shall ever o’er Astyanax bear rule. + + AND. Must I leave here, him who alone remains + Of all that erst was dear to me in Troy? + + TAL. Alas! I know not in what terms t’ express + The miseries that await thee? + + AND. I commend + Such modesty, provided thou canst speak + Aught to afford me comfort. + + TAL. They resolve + To slay thy son; thou hear’st my dismal errand. + + AND. Ah me! thou hast unfolded to these ears + An evil, greater than my menaced spousals. + + TAL. By his harangues to the assembled Greeks, + Ulysses hath prevailed. + + AND. Alas! alas! + Immoderate are the sorrows I endure. + + TAL. Saying they ought not to train up the son + Of that heroic sire. + + AND. May he obtain + O’er his own children triumphs great as these! + + TAL. He from the towers of Ilion must be thrown: + But I entreat thee, and thou hence shall seem + More prudent, strive not to withhold thy son, + But bear thy woes with firmness; nor, though weak, + Deem thyself strong; for thou hast no support, + And therefore must consider that thy city + Is overthrown, thy husband is no more, + Thou art reduced to servitude; and we + Are strong enough to combat with one woman: + O therefore brave not this unequal strife, + Stoop not to aught that’s base, nor yet revile, + Nor idly scatter curses on thy foes; + For if thou utter aught that may provoke + The anger of the host, thy son will bleed + Unburied and unwept: but if thou bear + With silence and composure thy misfortunes, + Funereal honours shall adorn his grave, + And Greece to thee her lenity extend. + + AND. Thee, O my dearest son, thy foes will slay; + Soon art thou doomed to leave thy wretched mother. + What saves the lives of others, the renown + Of an illustrious sire, to thee will prove + The cause of death: by this paternal fame + Art thou attended in an evil hour. + To me how luckless proved the genial bed, + And those espousals, that to Hector’s house + First brought me, when I trusted I should bear + A son, no victim to the ruthless Greeks, + But an illustrious Asiatic king. + Weep’st thou, my son? dost thou perceive thy woes? + Why cling to me with timid hands? Why seize + My garment? thus beneath its mother’s wings + The callow bird is sheltered. From the tomb, + No Hector brandishing his massive spear + Rushes to saves thee; no intrepid kinsman + Of thy departed father, nor the might + Of Phrygian hosts is here: but from aloof + Borne headlong by a miserable leap, + Shalt thou pour forth thy latest gasp of life + Unpitied. Tender burden in the arms + Of thy fond mother! what ambrosial odours + Breathed from thy lips? I swathed thee to my breast + In vain, I toiled in vain, and wore away + My strength with fruitless labours. Yet embrace + Thy mother once again; around my neck + Entwine thine arms, and give one parting kiss. + Ye Greeks, who studiously invent new modes + Of unexampled cruelty, why slay + This guiltless infant? Helen, O thou daughter + Of Tyndarus, never didst thou spring from Jove, + But I pronounce thee born of many sires, + An evil Genius, Envy, Slaughter, Death, + And every evil that from Earth receives + Its nourishment; nor dare I to assert + That Jove himself begot a pest like thee, + Fatal to Greece and each barbarian chief. + Perdition overtake thee! for those eyes + By their seducing glances have o’erthrown + The Phrygian empire. Bear this child away, + And cast him from the turrets if ye list, + Then banquet on his quivering flesh: the gods + Ordain that I shall perish: nor from him + Can I repel the stroke of death. Conceal + This wretched form from public view, and plunge me + In the ship’s hold; for I have lost my son, + Such the blest prelude to my nuptial rite. + + CHOR. Thy myriads, hapless Ilion, did expire + In combat for one woman, to maintain + Paris’ accursed espousals. + + AND. Cease, my child, + Fondly to lisp thy wretched mother’s name, + Ascend the height of thy paternal towers, + Whence ’tis by Greece decreed thy parting breath + Shall issue. Take him hence. Aloud proclaim + This deed ye merciless: that wretch alone + Who never knew the blush of virtuous shame, + Your sentence can applaud. + + [_Exeunt_ ANDROMACHE _and_ TALTHYBIUS. + + HEC. O child, thou son + Of my unhappy Hector, from thy mother + And me thou unexpectedly art torn. + What can I do, what help afford? for thee + I smite this head, this miserable breast; + Thus far my power extends. Alas! thou city, + And, O my grandson! is there yet a curse + Beyond what we have felt? remains there aught + To save us from the yawning gulf of ruin? + +CHORUS. + + ODE. + + I. 1. + + In Salamis’ profound retreat + Famed for the luscious treasures of the bee, + High raised above th’ encircling sea + Thou, Telamon, didst fix thy regal seat; + Near to those sacred hills, where spread + The olive first its fragrant sprays, + To form a garland for Minerva’s head, + And the Athenian splendor raise: + With the famed archer, with Alcmena’s son + Thou cam’st exulting with vindictive joy; + By your confederate arms was Ilion won, + When from thy Greece thou cam’st our city to destroy. + + I. 2. + + Repining for the promised steeds, + From Greece Alcides led a chosen band, + With hostile prows th’ indented strand + He reached, and anchored near fair Simois’ meads; + Selected from each ship, he led + Those who with dextrous hand could wing + Th’ unerring shaft, till slaughter reached thy head, + Laomedon, thou perjured king: + Those battlements which Phœbus’ self did rear + The victor wasted with devouring flame; + Twice o’er Troy’s walls hath waved the hostile spear, + Twice have insulting shouts announced Dardania’s shame. + + II. 1. + + Thou bear’st the sparkling wine in vain + With step effeminate, O Phrygian boy, + Erewhile didst thou approach with joy + To fill the goblet of imperial Jove; + For now thy Troy lies levelled with the plain, + And its thick smoke ascends the realms above. + On th’ echoing coast our plaints we vent, + As feathered songsters o’er their young bewail, + A child or husband these lament, + And those behold their captive mothers sail: + The founts where thou didst bathe, th’ athletic sports, + Are now no more. Each blooming grace + Sheds charms unheeded o’er thy placid face, + And thou frequent’st Heaven’s splendid courts. + Triumphant Greece hath levelled in the dust + The throne where Priam ruled the virtuous and the just. + + II. 2. + + With happier auspices, O love. + Erst didst thou hover o’er this fruitful plain, + Hence caught the gods thy thrilling pain; + By thee embellished, Troy’s resplendent towers + Reared their proud summits blest by thundering Jove, + For our allies were the celestial powers. + But I no longer will betray + Heaven’s ruler to reproach and biting shame. + The white-winged morn, blest source of day, + Who cheers the nations with her kindling flame, + Beheld these walls demolished, and th’ abode + Of that dear prince who shared her bed + In fragments o’er the wasted champaign spread: + While swift along the starry road, + Her golden car his country’s guardian bore: + False was each amorous god, and Ilion is no more. + +MENELAUS, HECUBA, CHORUS. + + MEN. Hail, O ye solar beams, who on this day, + When I my consort Helen shall regain + Your radiance shed. For I am he who long + Endured the toils of battle, Menelaus, + Attended by the Grecian host. To Troy, + Not in a woman’s cause, as many deem, + I came, but came to punish him who broke + The laws of hospitality, and ravished + My consort from my palace. He hath suffered + As he deserved, such was the will of Heaven, + He and his country by the spear of Greece + Have been destroyed. But I am come to bear + That Spartan dame away, whom with regret + I term my consort, though she once was mine. + But she beneath these tents is with the rest + Of Phrygia’s captives numbered: for the troops + Whose arms redeemed her, have to me consigned + That I might either take away, or spare + Her life, and waft her to the Argive coast. + I am resolved that Helen shall not bleed + In Troy, but o’er the foaming waves to Greece + Will I convey her, and to them whose friends + Before yon walls were slain, surrender up + To perish by their vengeance. But with speed + Enter the tent, thence by that hair defiled + With murder, O my followers, drag her forth, + And hither bring: for when a prosperous breeze + Arises, her will I to Greece convey. + + HEC. O thou who mov’st the world, and in this earth + Hast fixed thy station, whosoe’er thou art, + Impervious to our reason, whether thou, + O Jove, art dread necessity which rules + All nature, or that soul which animates + The breasts of mortals, thee do I adore, + For in a silent path thou tread’st and guid’st + With justice the affairs of man. + + MEN. What means + This innovation in the solemn prayer + You to the gods address? + + HEC. I shall applaud + The stroke, O Menelaus, if thou slay + Thy wife; but soon as thou behold’st her, fly, + Lest she with love ensnare thee. For the eyes + Of men she captivates, o’erturns whole cities, + And fires the roofs of lofty palaces, + She is possessed of such resistless charms; + Both I and thou and thousands to their cost, + Alas! are sensible how great her power. + +HELEN, MENELAUS, HECUBA, CHORUS. + + HEL. O Menelaus, this is sure a prelude + To greater horrors. For with brutal hands + I by your servants from these tents am dragged? + Too well I know you hate me, yet would learn, + How you and Greece have of my life disposed. + + MEN. Thou by the utmost rigour of the laws + Hast not been sentenced; but the host, to me + Whom thou hast wronged, consign thee to be slain. + + HEL. May not I answer to these harsh resolves, + That if I bleed, unjustly shall I bleed? + + MEN. I came not hither to debate, but slay thee? + + HEC. Hear her, nor let her die, O Menelaus, + Without this privilege. Me too allow + To make reply to her defence; for nought + Of the foul deeds, which she in Troy committed + Yet know’st thou: if united, the whole tale + Must force thee to destroy her, and preclude + All means of her escaping. + + MEN. An indulgence + Like this supposes leisure to attend; + However, if she have a wish to speak, + She may: but be assured, that my compliance + To your request is owing, for such favour + To her I would not grant. + + HEL. Perhaps with me + Whom you account a foe, you will not deign, + Whether I seem to utter truth or falsehood, + To parley. But to each malignant charge + With which, O Hecuba, I know thou com’st + Prepared against me, will I make reply, + And to o’erbalance all that thou canst urge + Produce recriminations. First, she bore + Paris, the author of these mischiefs, next + Did aged Priam ruin Troy and me, + When erst that infant he forbore to slay, + That baleful semblance of a flaming torch! + Hear what ensued; by Paris were the claims + Of the three rival goddesses decided. + The gift Minerva proffered; that commanding + The Phrygians, he should conquer Greece; while Juno + Promised, that he his empire should extend + From Asia to remotest Europe’s bounds, + If he to her adjudged the golden prize; + But Venus, who in rapturous terms extolled + My charms, engaged that as the great reward + She would on him bestow me; to her beauty + If o’er each goddess he the preference gave. + Observe the sequel: Venus, o’er Minerva + And Juno, gained the triumph; and my nuptials + Thus far have been a benefit to Greece; + Ye are not subject to barbarian lords, + Crushed by invasion, or tyrannic power. + But I my ruin owe to what my country + Hath found thus advantageous, for my charms + To Paris sold, and branded with disgrace, + E’en for such deeds as merited a wreath + To crown these brows. But you may urge, that all + I have alleged is of no real weight, + Because by stealth I from your palace fled. + Accompanied by no mean goddess, came + That evil genius, sprung from Hecuba, + Distinguish him by either name you list, + Paris or Alexander, in your house, + Whom, O delirious, you behind you left, + And sailed from Sparta to the Cretan isle. + Well, be it so. Of my own heart, not you + I in regard to all that hence ensued + Will ask the question. What could have induced me, + Following that stranger, to forsake my home, + False to my native land? impute the guilt + To Venus, and assume a power, beyond + E’en that of Jove, who rules th’ inferior gods + But yields to her behests. My crime was venial; + Yet hence you may allege a specious charge + Against me; since to earth’s dark vaults the corse + Of Paris was consigned, no longer bound + Through Heaven’s supreme decree in nuptial chains, + I to the Grecian fleet should have escaped + From Ilion’s palace; such was my design: + This can the guards of Troy’s beleaguered towers, + And sentinels who on the walls were stationed, + Attest, that oft they caught me, as with ropes + By stealth I strove to light upon the ground; + But a new husband, fierce Deiphobus, + Obtained me for a wife by brutal force, + Though every Phrygian disapproved. What law + Can sentence me, whom ’gainst my will he wedded, + By you, my lord, with justice to be slain? + But for the benefits through me derived + To Greece, I in the stead of laureate wreaths + With slavery am requited. If you wish + To overcome the gods’ supreme behests, + That very wish were folly. + + CHOR. O my Queen, + Assert thy children’s and thy country’s cause, + ’Gainst her persuasive language, for she speaks + With eloquence, though guilty: curst imposture! + + HEC. I those three goddesses will first defend, + And prove that she has uttered vile untruths: + For of such madness ne’er can I suspect + Juno and Pallas that immortal maid, + As that the first should to barbarian tribes + Propose to sell her Argos, or Minerva + To make her Athens subject to the Phrygians: + Seeking in sportive strife the palm of beauty + They came to Ida’s mount. For through what motive + Could Juno with such eagerness have wished + Her charms might triumph? to obtain a husband + Greater than Jove? could Pallas, who besought + Her sire she ever might remain a virgin, + Propose to wed some deity? Forbear + To represent these goddesses as foolish, + That thy transgressions may by their example + Be justified: thou never canst persuade + The wise. Thou hast presumed t’ assert (but this + Was a ridiculous pretence) that Venus + Came with my son to Menelaus’ house. + Could she not calmly have abode in Heaven, + Yet wafted thee and all Amycla’s city + To Ilion? but the beauty of my son + Was great, and thy own heart, when thou beheld’st him + Became thy Venus: for whatever folly + Prevails, is th’ Aphrodite of mankind: + That of Love’s goddess, justly doth commence + With the same letters as an idiot’s name. + Him didst thou see in a barbaric vest + With gold refulgent, and thy wanton heart + Was thence inflamed with love, for thou wert poor + While yet thou didst reside in Greece; but leaving + The Spartan regions, thou didst hope, the city + Of Troy, with gold o’erflowing, could support + Thy prodigality; for the revenues + Of Menelaus far too scanty proved + For thy luxuriant appetites: but sayst thou + That Paris bore thee thence by force? what Spartan + Saw this? or, with what cries didst thou invoke + Castor or Pollux, thy immortal brothers, + Who yet on earth remained, nor had ascended + The starry height? But since thou cam’st to Troy, + And hither the confederate troops of Greece + Tracing thy steps, began the bloody strife, + Whene’er thou heard’st that Menelaus prospered + Him didst thou praise, and make my son to grieve + That such a mighty rival shared thy love: + But if the Trojan army proved victorious, + He shrunk into a thing of nought. On Fortune + Still didst thou look, still deaf to Virtue’s call + Follow her banners: yet dost thou assert + That thou by cords hast from the lofty towers + In secrecy attempted to descend, + As if thou here hadst been constrained to stay? + Where then wert thou surprised, or sharpened sword, + Or ropes preparing, as each generous dame + Who sought her former husband would have done? + Oft have I counselled thee in many words: + “Depart, O daughter, that my sons may take + Brides less obnoxious: thee aboard the ships + Of Greece, assisting in thy secret flight, + Will I convey. O end the war ’twixt Greece + And Ilion.” But to thee was such advice + Unwelcome; for with pride thou in the house + Of Paris didst behave thyself, and claim + The adoration of barbaric tribes, + For this was thy great object. But e’en now + Thy charms displaying, clad in gorgeous vest + Dost thou go forth, still daring to behold + That canopy of Heaven which o’erhangs + Thy injured husband; thou detested woman! + Whom it had suited, if in tattered vest + Shivering, with tresses shorn, in Scythian guise + Thou hadst appeared, and for transgressions past + Deep smitten with remorse, assumed the blush + Of virtuous matrons, not that frontless air. + O Menelaus! I will now conclude; + By slaying her, prepare for Greece the wreaths + It merits, and extend to the whole sex + This law, that every woman who betrays + Her lord shall die. + + CHOR. As that illustrious stem + Whence thou deriv’st thy birth, and as thy rank + Demand, on thy adulterous wife inflict + Just punishment, and purge this foul reproach, + This instance of a woman’s lust, from Greece: + So shall thy very enemies perceive + Thou art magnanimous. + + MEN. Your thoughts concur + With mine, that she a willing fugitive + My palace left and sought a foreign bed; + But speaks of Venus merely to disguise + Her infamy!—Away! thou shalt be stoned, + And in one instant for the tedious woes + Of Greece make full atonement; I will teach thee + That thou didst shame me in an evil hour. + + HEL. I by those knees entreat you, O forbear + To slay me, that distraction sent by Heaven + To me imputing: but forgive me. + + HEC. Wrong not + Thy partners in the war, whom she hath slain; + In theirs, and in my children’s cause, I sue. + + MEN. Desist, thou hoary matron: her entreaties + Move not this steadfast bosom. O my followers + Attend her, I command you, to the ships + Which shall convey her hence. + + HEC. Let her not enter + Thy ship. + + MEN. Is she grown heavier than before? + + HEC. He never loved who doth not always love, + Howe’er the inclinations of the dame + He loves may fluctuate. + + MEN. All shall be performed + According to thy wish; she shall not enter + My bark: for thou hast uttered wholesome counsels: + But soon as she in Argos’ lands, with shame, + As she deserves, shall she be slain, and warn + All women to be chaste. No easy task: + Yet shall her ruin startle every child + Of folly, though more vicious still than Helen. + +CHORUS. + + ODE. + + I. 1. + + E’en thus by too severe a doom, + To Greece, O Jove, hast thou betrayed + Our shrines, our altars, dropping rich perfume, + The lambent flame that round the victims played, + Myrrh’s odorous smoke that mounts the skies, + Yon holy citadel, with Ida’s grove + Around whose oaks the clasping ivy plies, + Where rivulets meandering rove + Cold and translucent from the drifted snows; + On that high ridge with orient blaze + The sun first scatters his enlivening rays, + And with celestial flame th’ ecstatic priestess glows. + + I. 2. + + Each sacrifice, each pious rite, + Hence vanished, with th’ harmonious choirs + Whose accents soothed the languid ear of night, + While to the gods we waked our sounding lyres; + Their golden images no more + Twelve times each year, on that revolving eve + When shines the full-orbed moon, do we adore. + Harassed by anxious fears, I grieve, + Oft thinking whether thou, O Jove, wilt deign + To listen to our piteous moan, + High as thou sitt’st on thy celestial throne; + For Troy, by fire consumed, lies level with the plain. + + II. 1. + + Thou, O my husband, roam’st a flitting shade, + To thee are all funereal rites denied, + To thee no lustral drops supplied: + But I by the swift bark shall be conveyed + Where Argos’ cloud-capped fortress stands, + Erected by the Cyclops’ skilful hands. + Before our doors assembling children groan, + And oft repeat with clamorous moan + A mother’s name. Alone shall I be borne + Far from thy sight, by the victorious host + Of Greece, and leaving Ilion’s coast, + O’er ocean’s azure billows sail forlorn, + Either to Salamis, that sacred land, + Or where the Isthmian summit o’er two seas + A wide extended prospect doth command, + Seated in Pelops’ straits where Greece the prize decrees. + + II. 2. + + Its arduous voyage more than half complete, + In the Ægean deep, and near the land, + May the red lightning by Jove’s hand + Winged from the skies with tenfold ruin, meet + The bark that wafts me o’er the wave + From Troy to Greece a miserable slave. + Before the golden mirror wont to braid + Her tresses, like a sportive maid, + May Helen never reach the Spartan shore, + Those household gods to whom she proved untrue, + Nor her paternal mansions view, + Enter the streets of Pitane no more, + Nor Pallas’ temple with its brazen gate; + Because her nuptials teemed with foul disgrace + To mighty Greece through each confederate state; + And hence on Simois’ banks were slain Troy’s guiltless race. + + But ha! on this devoted realm are hurled + Successive woes. Ye hapless Phrygian dames, + Behold the slain Astyanax, whom Greece + With rage inhuman from yon towers hath thrown. + +TALTHYBIUS, HECUBA, CHORUS. + +_The Body of_ ASTYANAX _borne in upon a Shield_. + + TAL. O Hecuba, one ship is left behind + To carry the remainder of the spoils + Which to Achilles’ son have been adjudged, + To Phthia’s coast. For Neoptolemus, + Hearing that recent evils hath befall’n + His grandsire Peleus, and that Pelias’ son + Acastus hath expelled him from his realm, + Already hath departed with such speed + As would admit of no delay: with him + Andromache is gone, for whom I shed + A stream of tears, when from the land she went + Wailing her country, and to Hector’s tomb + Her plaints addressing: the victorious chief + Hath she entreated, to allow the corse + Of your unhappy Hector’s son, who perished + From Ilion’s ramparts thrown, to be interred, + Nor bear this shield, the terror of the Greeks, + With brass refulgent, which his father placed + Before his flank in battle, to the house + Of Peleus; nor to that ill-omened chamber + Where spousals dire on her arrival wait + The mother of the slain; for such an object + Must grieve her to behold: but in the stead + Of cedar and the monumental stone, + Bury the child in this: for she the corse + Hath to your arms consigned, that you may grace it + With many a fragrant garland, and with vests + Such as your present fortunes will afford. + For she has sailed, and through his haste her lord + Prevented her from lodging in the grave + Her son. While thus you his remains adorn + We will mark out the spot, and with our spears + Dig up the ground. Without delay perform + These duties: I one task to you most irksome + Have rendered needless: for I laved the body, + And cleansed the wounds as o’er Scamander’s stream + I passed. But to prepare for the deceased + A tomb, I go, that with united toil + When this we have accomplished, they may steer + Our vessel homeward. + + [_Exit_ TALTHYBIUS. + + HEC. Place that orbed shield + Of Hector on the ground, a spectacle + Most piteous, and unwelcome to these eyes. + How, O ye Greeks, whose abject souls belie + Your brave achievements, trembling at a child, + Could ye commit this unexampled murder, + Lest at some future time he should rebuild + The walls of Ilion? Ye inhuman cowards! + Our ruin from that fatal hour we date + When Hector with unnumbered heroes fell. + But having sacked our city, and destroyed + Each Phrygian warrior, feared ye such an infant + The dastard I abhor who meanly shrinks + Through groundless panic. O for ever loved, + By what a piteous fate didst thou expire! + Hadst thou, the champion of thy country, died, + In riper years, when married, and endued + With power scarce second to th’ immortal gods, + Thou hadst been blest, if aught on earth deserves + The name of bliss. But thou, my son, beheld’st + And hadst a distant knowledge of these joys, + Which thou didst ne’er experience: for to thee + The treasures which the palaces of Troy + Contained, proved useless. O unhappy youth, + How wert thou hurled from thy paternal walls + Reared by Apollo’s hand; and through those ringlets, + Which oft thy mother smoothed and kissed, the gore + Bursts from thy fractured skull: but let me waive + So horrid a description. O ye hands, + How in your fingers do ye still retain + A pleasing sad remembrance of your sire, + Or why do ye lie motionless before me? + Dear mouth, full many a babbling accent wont + To utter, art thou closed by death? Thy voice + Deceived me erst, when clinging to these garments, + “O mother,” oft didst thou exclaim, “the hair + Shorn from my brows to thee I will devote, + Lead round thy tomb my comrades, and address + Thy hovering ghost in many a plaintive strain.” + Now not to me, alas! dost thou perform + These duteous offices, but I, bowed down + With age, an exile, of my children reft, + Must bury the disfigured corse of thee + A tender infant. These unnumbered kisses, + My cares in nurturing thee, and broken sleep, + Proved fruitless. What inscription can the bard + Place o’er thy sepulchre? “The Greeks who feared + This infant, slew him!” Such an epitaph + Would shame them. As for thee who hast obtained + Nought of thy wealth paternal, yet this shield + In which thou shalt be buried will be thine. + O brazen orb, which erst wert wont to guard + The nervous arm of Hector, thou hast lost + Thy best possessor: in thy concave circle + How is that hero’s shape impressed; it bears + Marks of that sweat which dropped from Hector’s brow, + Wearied with toil, when ’gainst thy edge he leaned + His cheek. Hence carry, to adorn the corse, + Whate’er our present station will afford, + For such the fortunes which Jove grants us now + As splendour suits not: yet accept these gifts + Out of the little I possess. An idiot + Is he, who thinking himself blest, exults + As if his joys were stable: like a man + Smitten with frenzy, changeful fortune bounds + Inconstant in her course, now here, now there, + Nor is there any one who leads a life + Of bliss uninterrupted. + + CHOR. All is ready: + For from the spoils yon Phrygian matrons bear + Trappings to grace the dead. + + HEC. On thee, my son, + Not as a victor who with rapid steeds + Didst ever reach the goal, or wing the shaft + With surer aim, an exercise revered + By each unwearied Phrygian youth, thy grandame + Places these ornaments which erst were thine: + But now hath Helen, by the gods abhorred, + Stripped thee of all thou didst possess, and caused + Thy murder, and the ruin of our house. + + CHOR. Alas! thou hast transpierced my inmost soul, + O thou, whom I expected to have seen + Troy’s mighty ruler. + + HEC. But I now enwrap + Thy body with the vest thou shouldst have worn + At Hymen’s festive rites, in wedlock joined + With Asia’s noblest princess. But, O source + Of triumphs numberless, dear shield of Hector, + Accept these laureate wreaths: for though by death + Thou canst not be affected, thou shalt lie + Joined with this corse in death; since thou deserv’st + More honourable treatment, than the arms + Of crafty and malignant Ithacus. + + CHOR. Thee, much lamented youth, shall earth receive. + Now groan, thou wretched mother. + + HEC. Oh! + + CHOR. Commence + Those wailings which are uttered o’er the dead. + + HEC. Ah me! + + CHOR. Alas! too grievous are thy woes + To be endured. + + HEC. These fillets o’er thy wounds + I bind, and exercise the healing art + In name and semblance only, but, alas! + Not in reality. Whate’er remains + Unfinished, ’mid the shades beneath, to thee + With tender care thy father will supply. + + CHOR. Smite with thy hand thy miserable head + Till it resound. Alas! + + HEC. My dearest comrades. + + CHOR. Speak to thy friends; O Hecuba, what plaints + Hast thou to utter? + + HEC. Nought but woe for me + Was by the gods reserved; beyond all cities + To them hath Troy been odious. We in vain + Have offered sacrifice. But had not Jove + O’erthrown and plunged us in the shades beneath, + We had remained obscure, we by the Muse + Had ne’er been sung, nor ever furnished themes + To future bards. But for this hapless youth + Go and prepare a grave; for the deceased + Is with funereal wreaths already crowned: + Although these pomps, I deem, are to the dead + Of little consequence; an empty pride + They in the living serve but to display. + + CHOR. Thy wretched mother on thy vital thread + Had stretched forth mighty hopes: though styled most happy + From thy illustrious birth, thou by a death + Most horrid didst expire. + + HEC. Ha! who are these + Whom I behold, in their victorious hands + Waving those torches o’er the roofs of Troy? + E’en now o’er Ilion some fresh woes impend. + +TALTHYBIUS, HECUBA, CHORUS. + + TAL. To you I speak, O leaders of the troops + Who are ordained to burn this town of Priam. + No longer in your hands without effect + Reserve those blazing torches: but hurl flames + On this devoted city, for when Troy + Is utterly demolished, we shall leave + Its hated shores, exulting. But to you, + O Phrygians, I the same behests address; + When the shrill trumpet of our chief resounds, + Ye to the Grecian navy must repair + And from these regions sail. But as for thee, + Thou aged and most miserable dame, + Follow their steps who from Ulysses come. + To whom thy fate consigns thee for a slave + Far from thy country in a foreign land. + + HEC. Ah, wretched me! this surely is the last, + The dire completion this, of all my woes. + I leave my country: Ilion’s bulwarks flame. + Yet, O decrepit feet, with painful haste + Bear me along, that I may bid adieu + To my unhappy city. Thou, O Troy, + Distinguished erst among barbarian tribes + By thy superior prowess, soon shalt lose + The most illustrious name thou didst acquire: + Thee will the flames consume, and us our foes + Drag from our home to slavery. O ye gods! + Upon the gods yet wherefore should I call? + For when we erst invoked them oft, they heard not. + Come on, and let us rush amid the flames: + For in the ruins of my blazing country + ’Twill be to me most glorious to expire. + + TAL. Thy griefs, O wretched woman, make thee frantic. + But lead her hence, neglect not. For Ulysses + Obtained this prize, and she to him must go. + + HEC. O dread Saturnian king, from whom the Phrygians + Derive their origin, dost thou behold + Our sufferings, most unworthy of the race + Of Dardanus? + + CHOR. He surely doth behold: + But this great city, city now no more, + Is ruined: nought remains of Troy. + + HEC. The blaze + Of Ilion glares, the fire hath caught the roofs, + The streets of Pergamus, and crashing towers. + + CHOR. As the light smoke on rapid wing ascends + To heaven, how swiftly vanishes fallen Troy! + Torrents of flame have laid the palace waste, + And o’er its summit waves the hostile spear. + + HEC. O fostering soil, that gave my children birth. + + CHOR. Alas! alas! + + HEC. Yet hear me, O my sons, + Your mother’s voice distinguish. + + CHOR. With loud plaints + Thou call’st upon the dead, those aged limbs + Stretched on the ground, and scraping up the dust + With either hand. I follow thy example + Kneeling on earth’s cold bosom, and invoke + My wretched husband in the shades beneath. + + HEC. We forcibly are borne—— + + CHOR. Most doleful sound! + + HEC. To servile roofs. + + CHOR. From my dear native land. + + HEC. Slain, uninterred, abandoned by thy friends, + Thou sure, O Priam, know’st not what I suffer. + For sable death hath closed thine eyes for ever; + Though pious, thou by impious hands wert murdered. + O ye polluted temples of the gods, + And thou my dearest city. + + CHOR. Ye, alas! + Are by the deadly flame and pointed spear + Now occupied, on this beloved soil + Soon shall you lie a heap of nameless ruins: + For dust, which mixed with smoke, to Heaven ascends, + No longer will permit me to discern + Where erst my habitation stood: the land + Loses its very name, and each memorial + Of pristine grandeur; wretched Troy’s no more. + + HEC. Ye know the fatal truth, ye heard the crash + Of falling towers. Our city to its basis + Is shaken. O ye trembling, trembling limbs, + Support my steps! + + TAL. Depart to end thy days + In servitude. Alas! thou wretched city! + Yet to the navy of the Greeks proceed. + + + + +THE CYCLOPS. + + +PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. + + SILENUS. + CHORUS OF SATYRS. + ULYSSES. + POLYPHEME THE CYCLOPS. + + +SCENE.—THE MOUNTAIN OF ÆTNA IN SICILY. + +SILENUS. + + O Bacchus, for thy sake have I endured + Unnumbered toils, both at the present hour, + And when these nerves by vigorous youth were strung: + By Juno first with wild distraction fired, + Thou didst forsake the mountain nymphs whose care + Nurtured thy infancy. Next in that war + With the gigantic progeny of earth, + Stationed beside thee to sustain thy shield, + Piercing the buckler of Enceladus, + I slew him with my lance. Is this a dream? + By Jove it is not: for I showed his spoils + To Bacchus, and the labours I endure + At present, are so great that they exceed + E’en those. For since ’gainst thee Saturnia roused, + To bear thee far away, Etruria’s race + Of impious pirates, I soon caught th’ alarm, + And sailed in quest of thee with all my children: + Myself the stern ascended, to direct + The rudder, and each satyr plied an oar + Till ocean’s azure surface with white foam + Was covered; thee, O mighty King, they sought. + Near Malea’s harbour as the vessel rode, + An eastern blast arose, and to this rock + Of Ætna, drove us, where the sons of Neptune, + The one-eyed Cyclops, drenched with human gore, + Inhabit desert caves; by one of these + Were we made captives, and beneath his roof + To slavery are reduced. Our master’s name + Is Polypheme; instead of Bacchus’ orgies + We tend the flocks of an accursed Cyclops. + My blooming sons, on yonder distant cliffs, + Feed the young lambs; while I at home am stationed + The goblet to replenish, and to scrape + The rugged floor; to this unholy lord, + A minister of impious festivals: + And now must I perform the task assigned + Of cleansing with this rake the filthy ground, + So shall the cave be fit for his reception, + When with his flocks my absent lord returns. + But I already see my sons approach, + Their fleecy charge conducting. Ha! what means + This uproar? would ye now renew the dance + Of the Sicinnides, as when ye formed + The train of amorous Bacchus, and assembled, + Charmed by the lute, before Althæa’s gate? + +CHORUS, SILENUS. + +CHORUS. + + ODE. + + I. + + Sprung from an untainted race, + Hardy father of the fold, + Why, bounding o’er that craggy space, + Roam’st thou desperately bold, + Far from the refreshing gale, + The verdant herbage of the mead, + And sloping channel wont to feed + Thy trough with springs that never fail? + Yon caves with bleating lambkins ring, + Come, depasture with the flock; + Leave, O leave the dewy rock, + Ere this ponderous stone I fling. + Thee with speeding horns I call + To the Cyclops’ lofty stall. + + II. + + Thou too those swollen udders yield, + That thy young ones may be fed, + Who, while thou browsest o’er the field, + Lie neglected in the shed; + Slumbering all the livelong day + At length with clamorous plaints they wake, + Thou t’ appease them wilt forsake + Ætna’s valleys ever gay. + Young Bromius and his jocund rout + Here their orgies ne’er repeat, + No thyrsus waves, no drums they beat; + Where the gurgling currents spout, + Here no vineyards yield delight, + Nor sport the nymphs on Nyssa’s height. + + III. + + Yet here I chaunt the strains which Bacchus taught, + To that Venus whom I sought + When with the Mænades I ranged. + Where, gentle Evan, dost thou tread + Alone, and from thy comrades far estranged, + Those auburn ringlets floating from thy head? + Thy votary once, but now a slave + To yonder one-eyed Cyclops, I abide + In this detested cave: + Covered with a goat’s vile hide, + Thy friend, alas! exposed to scorn + Wanders helpless and forlorn. + + SIL. My sons, be silent: bid your followers drive + Their flocks into the stony cave. + + CHOR. Proceed. + But wherefore, O my father, in this haste? + + SIL. A Grecian vessel, stranded on the coast, + I see, and to this cave the mariners + Attend their leader, on their heads they bear + Those empty vessels which express they want + Provisions, with fresh water too their urns + Would they replenish. O unhappy strangers! + Who are they? unapprised what lord here rules, + Dread Polypheme, they in an evil hour + Are entering this inhospitable threshold, + And rushing headlong e’en into the jaws + Of this fierce Cyclops, gorged with human flesh. + But interrupt me not; I will inquire + Whence to Sicilian Ætna’s mount they came. + +ULYSSES, SILENUS, CHORUS. + + ULY. Can ye direct me, strangers, where to find + Fresh springs to slake our thirst; or who will sell + Food to the hungry sailor? But what means + That group of satyrs, whom before yon cave + I see assembled? we at Bacchus’ city + Seem to have landed. Thee, the elder-born, + Thee first I hail. + + SIL. Hail! foreigner; acquaint us + Both who you are, and from what realm you came. + + ULY. Ulysses, king of Ithaca, and th’ isle + Of Cephalenè. + + SIL. That loquacious man, + The crafty brood of Sisyphus, full well + I know. + + ULY. Reproach me not, for I am he. + + SIL. Whence sailed you to Sicilia? + + ULY. From the shores + Of blazing Ilion, from the war of Troy. + + SIL. What, knew you not the way to your own country? + + ULY. The tempests violently drove me hither. + + SIL. By Heaven, your fortunes are the same with mine. + + ULY. What cam’st thou hither too against thy will? + + SIL. Yes, in pursuit of those accursed pirates + Who seized on Bromius. + + ULY. But what land is this, + And by what men inhabitated? + + SIL. This mountain, + Called Ætna, overlooks Sicilia’s plains. + + ULY. Where are the fortresses and lofty towers + Which guard its peopled cities? + + SIL. They exist not. + No men, O stranger, on these summits dwell. + + ULY. But who possess the land, a savage race + Of beasts? + + SIL. The Cyclops occupy these caves, + They have no houses. + + ULY. Governed by what chief? + Is this a mere democracy? + + SIL. They lead + The life of shepherds, and in no respect + Yield to each other. + + ULY. Do they sow the grain + Of Ceres, or on what do they subsist? + + SIL. On milk, on cheese, and on their sheep, they feed. + + ULY. Affords the vine, nectareous juice, the drink + Bacchus invented? + + SIL. No such thing: they dwell + In an ungrateful soil. + + ULY. But do they practise + The rites of hospitality, and hold + The stranger sacred? + + SIL. They aver the flesh + Of strangers is a most delicious food. + + ULY. What saidst thou, banquet they on human flesh? + + SIL. Here no man lands who is not doomed to bleed. + + ULY. Where is this Cyclops, in the cave? + + SIL. He went + To Ætna’s summit, with his hounds to trace + The savage beasts. + + ULY. But know’st thou by what means + We from this region may escape? + + SIL. I know not. + But, O Ulysses, I’ll do everything + To serve you. + + ULY. Sell us bread, supply our want. + + SIL. I told you we have nothing here but flesh. + + ULY. By this, sharp hunger, which makes all things sweet, + May be assuaged. + + SIL. Cheese from the press, and milk + Of heifers too. + + ULY. Produce them: while the day + Yet lasts, should we conclude our merchandise. + + SIL. With how much gold will you repay me? Speak. + + ULY. No gold I bring, but Bacchus’ cheering juice. + + SIL. My dearest friend, you mention what we long + Have stood in need of. + + ULY. This enchanting liquor + Did Maron, offspring of the courteous god, + On us bestow. + + SIL. Whom erst, while yet a boy + I in these arms sustained. + + ULY. The son of Bacchus, + T’ inform thee more minutely who he is. + + SIL. Aboard the ship, or have you hither brought it? + + ULY. Here is the cask, old man, which thou perceiv’st + Contains the wine. + + SIL. It hardly is a sup. + + ULY. But we have twice as much as this will yield. + + SIL. A most delicious spring is that you named. + + ULY. Shall I first treat thee with some wine unmixed, + That thou may’st taste? + + SIL. Well judged: this specimen + Soon will induce me to conclude the purchase. + + ULY. A cup too I have brought as well as cask. + + SIL. Pour forth, that I may drink, and recollect + The grateful taste of wine. + + ULY. Look there! + + SIL. Ye gods! + How beauteous is its odour! + + ULY. Hast thou seen it? + + SIL. By Jove I have not, but I smell its charms. + + ULY. Taste, nor to words alone confine thy praise. + + SIL. Ha! ha! now Bacchus to the choral dance + Invites me. + + ULY. Hath it moistened well thy palate? + + SIL. So well as e’en to reach my fingers’ ends. + + ULY. Beside all this, shall money too be thine. + + SIL. Empty the vessel, and reserve your gold. + + ULY. Bring forth the cheese and lambs. + + SIL. That will I do, + Regardless of my lord, because I wish + To drain one goblet of this wine, and give + The flocks of all the Cyclops in its stead. + I’d from Leucadè, when completely drunk, + Into the ocean take a lover’s leap, + Shutting my eyes. For he who, when he quaffs + The mantling bowl, exults not, is a madman. + Through wine new joys our wanton bosoms fire, + With eager arms we clasp the yielding fair, + And in the giddy dance forget each ill + That heretofore assailed us. So I kiss + The rich potation; let the stupid Cyclops + Weep with that central eye which in his front + Glares horribly. + + [_Exit_ SILENUS. + + CHOR. Attend: for we must hold + A long confabulation, O Ulysses. + + ULY. We meet each other like old friends. + + CHOR. Was Troy + By you subdued? was Helen taken captive? + + ULY. And the whole house of Priam we laid waste. + + CHOR. When ye had seized on that transcendent fair, + Did ye then all enjoy her in your turn, + Because she loves variety of husbands? + False to her vows, when she the painted greaves + Around the legs of Paris, on his neck + The golden chain, beheld, with love deep smitten + From Menelaus, best of men, she fled. + Ah! would to Heaven no women had been born + But such as were reserved for my embraces. + +SILENUS _returning_, ULYSSES, CHORUS. + + SIL. Here, King Ulysses, is the shepherd’s food: + Banquet on bleating lambs, and bear away + As many curdled cheeses as you can; + But from these caverns with your utmost speed + Depart, when ye have given me in return + The clustering vine’s rich juice which Bacchus loves. + + ULY. The Cyclops comes. What shall we do? Old man, + We are undone. Ah, whither can we fly? + + SIL. Ye may conceal yourselves beneath that rock. + + ULY. Most dangerous is the scheme thou hast proposed, + To rush into the toils. + + SIL. No danger truly; + For in this rock is many a hiding-place. + + ULY. Not thus: indignant Troy might groan indeed + If from a single arm we basely fled. + Oft with my shield against a countless band + Of Phrygians have I fought. If we must die, + Let us die nobly: or with life maintain + The fame we erst in dubious fields acquired. + +POLPYHEME, SILENUS, CHORUS, ULYSSES. + + POL. What mean these transports, this insensate uproar, + These Bacchanalian orgies? Nyssa’s god, + The brazen timbrel, and the rattling drum, + Are distant from these regions. In the cave + How fare the new-yeaned lambkins? do they suck, + Or follow they the ewes? have ye prepared + In wicker vats the cheeses? No reply? + This club shall make ye weep forthwith. Look up, + Not on the ground. + + CHOR. We lift our dazzled eyes + To Jove himself; I view the twinkling stars + And bright Orion. + + POL. Is my dinner ready? + + CHOR. It is. Prepare your jaws for mastication. + + POL. Are the bowls filled with milk? + + CHOR. They overflow, + And you may drink whole hogsheads if you will. + + POL. Of sheep, or cows, or mixed? + + CHOR. Whate’er you please; + But swallow not me too. + + POL. No certainly; + For ye would foot it in my tortured paunch, + And kill me with those antics. But what crowd + Behold I in the stalls? Some thieves or pirates + Are landed: at the mouth of yonder cave + The lambs are bound with osiers, on the floor + The cheese-press scattered lies, and the bald head + Of this old man is swoll’n with many bruises. + + SIL. Ah me! into a fever I am beaten. + + POL. By whom, old man, who smote thy hoary head? + + SIL. O Cyclops, by these ruffians whom I hindered + From carrying off their plunder. + + POL. Know they not + I am a god sprung from the blest immortals? + + SIL. All this I told them, yet they seized your goods, + Eat up your cheese without my leave, dragged forth + The lambs, declared they would exhibit you + In a huge collar of three cubits long, + Closely imprisoned, and before that eye, + Which in the centre of your forehead glares, + Bore out your entrails, soundly scourge your hide, + Then throw you into their swift vessel’s hold + Tied hand and foot, and sell you, with a lever + To heave up ponderous stones, or to the ground + Level some door. + + POL. Indeed! go whet the knives + Without delay, collect a mighty pile + Of wood, and light it up with flaming brands, + They shall be slain immediately, and broiled + To satisfy my appetite with viands + Hot from the coals. The rest shall be well sodden; + For I am sated with unsavoury beasts, + Enough on lions have I banqueted + And stags that haunt this mountain: but ’tis long + Since human flesh I tasted. + + SIL. My dread lord, + Variety is sweet: no other strangers + Have reached of late these solitary caves. + + ULY. O Cyclops, hear the strangers also speak, + In their defence. We, wanting to buy food, + Came to your caverns from our anchored bark. + These lambs to us he bartered for our wine, + And of his own accord, when he had drank, + Yielded them up; no violence was used: + But the account he gives is utter falsehood, + Since he was caught without your privity + Vending your goods. + + SIL. I? curses on your head! + + ULY. If I have uttered an untruth. + + SIL. By Neptune + Your sire, O Cyclops, by great Triton, Nereus, + Calypso, Nereus’ daughters, by the waves, + And all the race of fishes, I protest, + Most beauteous Cyclops, my dear little lord, + I sold not to the foreigners your goods; + May swift perdition, if I did, o’ertake + These sinners here, my children, whom I love + Beyond expression. + + CHOR. Curb thy tongue: I saw thee + Vending thy lord’s possessions to the strangers: + If I speak falsehood, may our father perish! + But injure not these foreigners. + + POL. Ye lie; + For I in him much rather would confide + Than Rhadamanthus, and pronounce that he + Is a more upright judge. But I to them + Some questions would propose. Whence sailed, strangers? + Where is your country and your native town? + + ULY. We in the realms of Ithaca were born; + But after we had laid Troy’s bulwarks waste, + O Cyclops, by those howling winds which raise + The ocean’s boisterous surges, to your coast + Our vessel was impelled. + + POL. Are ye the men + Who worthless Helen’s ravisher pursued + To Ilion’s turrets on Scamander’s bank? + + ULY. The same: most dreadful toils have we endured. + + POL. Dishonourable warfare; in the cause + Of one vile woman ye to Phrygia sailed. + + ULY. Such was the will of Jove; on no man charge + The fault. But we to you, O generous son + Of ocean’s god, our earnest prayers address, + Nor fear with honest freedom to remonstrate + That we your hapless friends, who to these caves + For refuge fly, deserve not to be slain + To satiate with accursed human food + Your appetite: for to your sire, great king, + Full many a temple on the shores of Greece + Have we erected; Tænarus’ sacred haven + To him remains inviolate, the cliff + Of Malea, Sunium for its silver mines + Renowned, on whose steep promontory stands + Minerva’s fane, and the Gerastian bay. + But those intolerable wrongs which Greece + From Troy had suffered, could we not forgive. + Our triumph interests you, who in a land + With Greece connected, dwell, beneath the rock + Of flaming Ætna. Let those public laws + Which all mankind obey, on you prevail + To change your ruthless purpose, and admit + Your suppliants to a conference, who have long + Endured the perils of the billowy deep; + With hospitable gifts, and change of raiment + Assist us, nor affix our quivering limbs + On spits, to sate your gluttony. Enough + Hath Priam’s land depopulated Greece, + Whole myriads have in fighting fields been slain; + The widowed bride, the aged childless matron, + And hoary sire, hath Troy made ever wretched. + But if you burn, and at your hateful feasts + Devour the scattered relics of our host, + Whither shall any Grecian turn? but listen + To my persuasion, Cyclops, and control + Your gluttony. What piety enjoins, + Prefer to this defiance of the gods: + For ruin oft attends unrighteous gain. + + SIL. Leave not the smallest morsel of his flesh; + Take my advice, and if you eat his tongue, + You certainly, O Cyclops, will become + A most accomplished orator. + + POL. Vile caitiff, + Wealth is the deity the wise adore, + But all things else are unsubstantial boasts, + And specious words alone. I nought regard + Those promontories sacred to my sire. + Why dost thou talk of them? I tremble not, + O stranger, at the thunderbolts of Jove, + Him I account not a more powerful god + Than I am, nor henceforth will heed him: hear + My reasons; when he from the skies sends down + The rain, secure from its inclemency + Beneath this rock I dwell, and make a feast + On roasted calves, or on the savage prey, + Stretched at my length supine, then drain a pitcher + Of milk, and emulate the thunder’s sound. + When Thracian Boreas pours his flaky showers, + In hides of beasts my body I enwrap, + Approach the fire, nor heed the pelting snows. + Compelled by strong necessity, the ground + Produces grass, and nourishes my herds, + Whom, to no other god except myself, + And to this belly, greatest of the gods, + I sacrifice. Because each day to eat, + To drink, and feel no grief, is bliss supreme, + The Heaven, the object of the wise man’s worship. + I leave those gloomy lawgivers to weep, + Who by their harsh impertinent restrictions + Have chequered human life; but will indulge + My genius, and devour thee. That my conduct + May be exempt from blame, thou shalt receive + As pledges of our hospitality + The fire, and that hereditary cauldron + Well heated, which shall boil thy flesh: walk in, + Ye shall adorn my table, and produce + Delicious meals to cheer my gloomy cave, + Such as a god can relish. + + ULY. I have ’scaped, + Alas! each danger at the siege of Troy, + ’Scaped the tempestuous ocean; but in vain + Attempt to soften the unpitying heart + Of him who spurns all laws. Now, sacred queen, + Daughter of Jove, now aid me, O Minerva, + For I such perils as far, far exceed + My Phrygian toils, encounter: and, O Jove, + Dread guardian of each hospitable rite, + Who sitt’st enthroned above the radiant stars, + Look down: for if thou view not this, though deemed + Omnipotent, thou art a thing of nought. + + [_Exeunt_ POLYPHEME, ULYSSES, _and_ SILENUS. + + 1st SEMICHOR. That insatiate throat expand, + Boiled and roast are now at hand + For thee, O Cyclops, to devour: + From the coals in evil hour + Yet reeking, shall thy teeth divide + The limbs of each unhappy guest, + To thy table served when dressed + In dishes formed of shaggy hide. + O betray me not, my friend, + For I on you alone depend: + Now approach the shades of night, + Launch the bark, and aid our flight. + + 2nd SEMICHOR. Thou cave, and ye unholy rites, + Adieu, the Cyclops’ cursed delights, + Who on his prisoners wont to feed, + Hath banished pity from his breast. + Inhuman execrable deed! + On his own hearth, the suppliant guest, + Regardless of the Lares’ guardian powers, + Now he slays, and now devours: + Hot from the coals, with odious jaws, + Human flesh the miscreant gnaws. + +ULYSSES, CHORUS. + + ULY. How, mighty Jove! shall I express myself? + The dreadful scenes I in the cave have viewed + Are so astonishing, they more resemble + Some fable than the actions of a man. + + CHOR. What now, Ulysses, on your loved companions + Feasts this most impious Cyclops? + + ULY. Two, the fattest, + Having well viewed and poised them in his hands—— + + CHOR. How did you bear, O miserable man, + These cruel outrages? + + ULY. Soon as we entered + The rocky cave, he lighted first the fire, + On the wide blaze heaped trunks of lofty oaks, + A load sufficient for three wains to bear; + Then near the flaming hearth, upon the ground, + Arranged his couch of pine leaves, filled a bowl, + Holding about ten firkins, with the milk + Of heifers, and beside it placed a jug + Adorned with ivy, the circumference seemed + Three spacious ells, the depth no less than four: + Then made his cauldron bubble, and reached down + Spits burnt at the extremities, and polished + Not with a knife, but hatchets; Ætna furnished + Such instruments for sacrifice, the stems + Of thorn. No sooner had the hellish cook + Finished his preparations, than he seized + Two of my valiant comrades, whom he slew + With calm deliberation; one he cast + Into the hollow cauldron; from the ground + Then lifting up his fellow by the foot + Dashed out his brains against the pointed rock; + Severing his flesh with an enormous knife, + Part at the fire he roasted, and to boil, + His other joints into the cauldron threw. + But I, though from these eyes full many a tear + Burst forth, approached the Cyclops, and on him + Attended, while my friends, like timorous birds + Lurked in the distant crannies of the rock, + And all the blood forsook their pallid frame. + When sated with his feast the monster lay + Supine, and snored, a thought by Heaven inspired + Entered this bosom; having filled a cup + With Maron’s juice unmingled, I to him + Bore it, that he might drink; and cried, “Behold, + O Cyclops, son of Neptune, how divine + The beverage which our Grecian vineyards yield + The stream of Bacchus.” But already glutted + With his abominable food, he seized + And emptied the whole bumper at one draught, + Then lifting up, in token of applause, + His hand: “O dearest stranger,” he exclaimed, + “To a delicious banquet thou hast added + Delicious wine.” Perceiving he grew merry + I plied him with a second cup, well knowing + That wine will stagger him: he soon shall feel + Such punishment as he deserves. He sung; + I poured forth more and more, to warm his bowels + With strong potations: ’midst my weeping crew + He makes the cave with unharmonious strains + Re-echo. But I silently came forth, + And, if ye give consent, design to save + You, and myself. Say, therefore, will ye fly + From this unsocial monster, and reside + With Grecian maids beneath the roofs of Bacchus? + Your sire within approves of these proposals: + But now grown feeble and o’ercharged with wine, + Attracted by the goblet, as if birdlime + Had smeared his wings, he wavers. But with me + Do thou preserve thyself, for thou art young: + And I to Bacchus, to thy ancient friend + Far different from this Cyclops, will restore thee. + + CHOR. My dearest friend, O could we see that day, + And ’scape yon impious monster! for we long + Have been deprived of the enlivening bowl, + Nor entertain a single hope of freedom. + + ULY. Now hear the means by which I can requite + This odious savage, and thou too mayst ’scape + From servitude. + + CHOR. Speak, for we should not hear + The sound of Asia’s harp with more delight, + Than the glad tidings of the Cyclops’ death. + + ULY. By wine enlivened, he resolves to go + And revel with his brethren. + + CHOR. I perceive + You mean to seize and kill him when alone, + By some enchantment, or to dash him headlong + From the steep rock. + + ULY. I have no such design + As these: on craft alone my plan depends. + + CHOR. How then will you proceed? For we long since + Have heard that you for wisdom are renowned. + + ULY. I will deter him from the feast, and say + He must not portion out among the Cyclops + This liquor, but reserve it for himself + And lead a joyous life: when overcome + By Bacchus’ gifts he sleeps, this sword shall point + An olive pole, which to my purpose suited + Lies in the cave: I in the fire will heat, + And, when it flames, direct the hissing brand + Full on the Cyclops’ forehead, to extinguish + The orb of sight. As when some artist frames + A nautic structure, he by thongs directs + The ponderous auger: thus will I whirl round + Within the Cyclops’ eye the kindled staff, + And scorch his visual nerve. + + CHOR. Ho! I rejoice; + This blest invention almost makes me frantic. + + ULY. Thee, and thy friends, and thy decrepit sire, + This done, aboard my vessel will I place, + And from this region with a double tier + Of oars convey. + + CHOR. But is it possible + That I, as if dread Jove were my confederate, + Shall guide the well-poised brand, and of his eyesight + Deprive the monster? For I wish to share + In such assassination. + + ULY. I expect + Your aid: the brand is weighty, and requires + Our social efforts. + + CHOR. I’d sustain a load + Equal to what a hundred teams convey, + Could I dash out the cursed Cyclops’ eye + E’en as a swarm of wasps. + + ULY. Be silent now; + (Ye know my stratagem) and at my bidding + To those who o’er th’ adventurous scheme preside + Yield prompt obedience: for I scorn to leave + My friends within, and save this single life. + True, ’scape I might, already having passed + The cavern’s deep recess: but it were mean + If I should extricate myself alone, + False to the faithful partners of my voyage. + + [_Exit_ ULYSSES. + + CHOR. Who first, who next, with steadfast hand + Ordained to guide the flaming brand, + The Cyclops’ radiant eye shall pierce? + + 1st SEMICHOR. Silence! for from within a song + Bursts on my ear in tuneless verse, + Insensate minstrel, doomed ere long + This luxurious meal to rue, + He staggers from yon rocky cave. + Him let us teach who never knew + How at the banquet to behave, + Outrageous and unmannered hind, + Soon shall he totally be blind. + + 2nd SEMICHOR. Thrice blest is he, in careless play + ’Midst Bacchus’ orgies ever gay, + Stretched near the social board whence glides + The vine’s rich juice in purple tides, + Who fondly clasps with eager arms + The consenting virgin’s charms; + Rich perfumes conspire to shed + Sweetest odours on his head, + While enamoured of the fair + He wantons with her auburn hair. + But hark! for surely ’tis our mate + Exclaiming, “Who will ope the gate?” + +POLYPHEME, ULYSSES, SILENUS, CHORUS. + + POL. Ha! ha! I am replete with wine, the banquet + Hath cheered my soul: like a well-freighted ship + My stomach’s with abundant viands stowed + Up to my very chin. This smiling turf + Invites me to partake a vernal feast + With my Cyclopean brothers. Stranger, bring + That vessel from the cave. + + [_Exit_ ULYSSES. + + CHOR. With bright-eyed grace + Our master issues from his spacious hall; + (Some god approves—the kindled torch—) that form + Equals the lustre of a blooming nymph + Fresh from the dripping caverns of the main. + Soon shall the variegated wreath adorn + Your temples. + + ULY. [_returning._] Hear me, Cyclops; well I know + Th’ effect of this potation, Bacchus’ gift, + Which I to you dispensed. + + POL. Yet say what sort + Of god is Bacchus by his votaries deemed? + + ULY. The greatest source of pleasure to mankind. + + POL. I therefore to my palate find it sweet. + + ULY. A god like this to no man will do wrong. + + POL. But in a bottle how can any god + Delight to dwell? + + ULY. In whatsoever place + We lodge him, the benignant power resides. + + POL. The skins of goats are an unseemly lodging + For deities. + + ULY. If you admire the wine, + Why quarrel with its case? + + POL. Those filthy hides + I utterly detest, but love the liquor. + + ULY. Stay here; drink, drink, O Cyclops, and be gay. + + POL. This luscious beverage, must I not impart + To cheer my brothers? + + ULY. Keep it to yourself + And you shall seem more honourable. + + POL. More useful, + If I distribute largely to my friends. + + ULY. Broils, taunts, and discord from the banquet rise. + + POL. Though I am fuddled, no man dares to touch me. + + ULY. He who hath drunk too freely, O my friend, + Ought to remain at home. + + POL. Devoid of reason + Is he who when he drinks pays no regard + To mirth and to good-fellowship. + + ULY. More wise, + O’ercharged with wine, who ventures not abroad. + + POL. Shall we stay here? What think’st thou, O Silenus? + + SIL. With all my heart. What need, for our carousals, + Of a more numerous company? + + POL. The ground + Beneath our feet, a flowery turf adorns. + + SIL. O how delightful ’tis to drink, and bask + Here in the sunshine: on this grassy couch + Beside me take your seat. + + POL. Why dost thou place + The cup behind my elbow? + + SIL. Lest some stranger + Should come and snatch the precious boon away. + + POL. Thou mean’st to tope clandestinely: between us + Here let it stand. O stranger, by what name + Say shall I call thee? + + ULY. Noman is my name. + But for what favour shall I praise your kindness? + + POL. The last of all the crew will I devour. + + ULY. A wondrous privilege is this, O Cyclops, + Which on the stranger you bestow. + + POL. What mean’st thou? + Ha! art thou drinking up the wine by stealth? + + SIL. Only the gentle Bacchus gave that kiss, + Because I look so blooming. + + POL. Thou shalt weep, + Because thy lips were to the wine applied, + Nor did it seek thy mouth. + + SIL. Not thus, by Jove; + I drank because the generous god of wine + Declared that he admired me for my beauty. + + POL. Pour forth; give me a bumper. + + SIL. I must taste + To see what mixture it requires. + + POL. Damnation! + Give it me pure. + + SIL. Not so, the heavens forbid! + Till you the wreath bind on your ample front, + And I again have tasted. + + POL. What a knave + Is this my cupbearer! + + SIL. Accuse me not; + The wine is sweet: you ought to wipe your mouth + Before you drink. + + POL. My lips and beard are clean. + + SIL. Loll thus upon your elbow with a grace, + Drink as you see me drink, and imitate + My every gesture. + + POL. What art thou about? + + SIL. I swallowed then a most delicious bumper. + + POL. Take thou the cask, O stranger, and perform + The office of my cupbearer. + + ULY. These hands + Have been accustomed to the pleasing office. + + POL. Now pour it forth. + + ULY. Be silent: I obey. + + POL. Thou hast proposed a difficult restraint + To him who largely drinks. + + ULY. Now drain the bowl; + Leave nought behind: the toper must not prate + Before his liquor’s ended. + + POL. In the vine + There’s wisdom. + + ULY. When to plenteous food you add + An equal share of liquor, and well drench + The throat beyond what thirst demands, you sink + Into sweet sleep: but if you leave behind + Aught of th’ unfinished beverage in your cup, + Bacchus will scorch your entrails. + + POL. ’Tis a mercy + How I swam out; the very heavens whirl round + Mingled with earth. I view Jove’s throne sublime, + And the whole synod of encircling gods. + Were all the Graces to solicit me, + I would not kiss them: Ganymede himself + Appears in matchless beauty. + + SIL. I, O Cyclops, + Am Jove’s own Ganymede. + + POL. By Heaven thou art! + Whom from the realms of Dardanus I bore. + + [_Exit_ POLYPHEME. + + SIL. Ruin awaits me. + + CHOR. Dost thou loathe him now? + + SIL. Ah me! I from this sleep shall soon behold + The most accursed effects. + + [_Exit_ SILENUS. + + ULY. Come on, ye sons + Of Bacchus, generous youths; for soon dissolved + In slumber shall the monster from those jaws + Vomit forth flesh, within the hall now smokes + The brand, and nought remains but to burn out + The Cyclops’ eye: act only like a man. + + CHOR. The firmness of my soul shall equal rocks + And adamant. But go into the cave + With speed, before tumultuous sounds assail + Our aged father’s ears; for to effect + Your purpose, all is ready. + + ULY. Vulcan, king + Of Ætna, from this impious pest, who haunts + Thy sacred mountain, free thyself at once, + By burning out his glaring eye; and thou + Nurtured by sable night, O sleep, invade + With thy resistless force this beast abhorred + By Heaven; nor after all the glorious deeds + Achieved at Ilion, with his faithful sailors, + Destroy Ulysses’ self, by him who heeds + Nor god nor mortal. Else must we hold fortune + A goddess, and all other deities + Inferior to resistless fortune’s power. + + [_Exit_ ULYSSES. + + CHOR. The neck of him who slays his guest, + With burning pincers shall be prest, + And fire bereaving him of sight + Soon shall destroy that orb of light. + Within the embers near at hand + Lies concealed a smoking brand, + Torn from its parental tree. + Maron, we depend on thee; + May th’ exasperated foe + With success direct the blow! + May the Cyclops lose his eye, + And curse his ill-timed jollity! + Thee, Bromius, how I long to meet + Thy front adorned with ivy twine; + Leaving this abhorred retreat. + Ah, when shall such delight be mine? + +ULYSSES, CHORUS. + + ULY. Be silent, O ye savages, restrain + Those clamorous tongues: by Heaven ye shall not breathe, + Nor wink your eyes, nor cough, lest ye awaken + This pest, the Cyclops, ere he of his eyesight + Is by the fire bereft. + + CHOR. We will be silent, + And in our jaws confine the very air. + + ULY. The ponderous weapon seize with dauntless hands, + Entering the cavern; for ’tis fully heated. + + CHOR. Will you not give directions who shall first + Manage the glowing lever, and burn out + The Cyclops’ eye, that in one common fortune + We all may share. + + 1st SEMICHOR. We who before the portals + Are stationed, are not tall enough to drive + Full on its destined mark the hissing brand. + + 2nd SEMICHOR. But I am with a sudden lameness seized. + + 1st SEMICHOR. The same calamity which you experience + To me hath also happened; for my feet + Are by convulsions tortured, though the cause + I know not. + + ULY. If ye feel such dreadful spasms, + How can ye stand? + + CHOR. Our eyes are also filled + With dust or ashes. + + ULY. These allies of mine + Are worthless cowards. + + CHOR. We forsooth want courage + Because we feel compassion for our shoulders, + Nor would be beaten till our teeth drop out. + But I a magic incantation know, + Devised by Orpheus, which hath such effect, + That of its own accord the brand shall pierce + The skull of him, the one-eyed son of earth. + + ULY. Long have I known ye are by nature such; + But more than ever do I know you now. + On my own friends I therefore must rely. + Yet if thou hast no vigour in that arm, + Exhort my drooping friends to act with valour + And let thy counsels aid the bold emprise. + + [_Exit_ ULYSSES. + + CHOR. Such be my province: we this Carian’s life + Will hazard. But my counsels shall induce them + To burn the Cyclops. Ho! with courage whirl + The brand, delay not to scorch out the eye + Of him who banquets on the stranger’s flesh. + With fire assail the savage, pierce the front + Of Ætna’s shepherd, lest, with anguish stung, + On you he perpetrate some deed of horror. + + POL. [_within._] Ah me! by burning coals I am deprived + Of eyesight. + + CHOR. That was a melodious pæan: + To me, O Cyclops, sing th’ enchanting strain. + +POLYPHEME, CHORUS. + + POL. Ah, how am I insulted and destroyed! + Yet shall ye never from this hollow rock + Escape triumphant, O ye things of nought: + For in my station rooted, where this cleft + Opens a door, will I spread forth my hands + And stop your passage! + + CHOR. Ha! what means these outcries, + O Cyclops? + + POL. I am ruined. + + CHOR. You appear + To have much been abused. + + POL. Deplorably. + + CHOR. When fuddled, did you fall ’mid burning coals? + + POL. Noman hath ruined me. + + CHOR. To you then no one + Hath offered any wrong. + + POL. These lids hath Noman + Deprived of sight. + + CHOR. You therefore are not blind. + + POL. Would thou couldst see as little. + + CHOR. How can no man + Put out your eye? + + POL. Thou art disposed to jest. + But where is Noman? + + CHOR. He is nowhere, Cyclops. + + POL. That execrable stranger, mark me well, + Is author of my ruin, who produced + The fraudful draught, and burned my visual nerves. + + CHOR. Wine is invincible. + + POL. By all the gods, + Answer me I conjure you; did they fly, + Or are they here within? + + CHOR. They on the top + Of yonder rock which screens them from your reach, + In silence take their stand. + + POL. But on which side? + + CHOR. Your right. + + POL. Where, where? + + CHOR. Upon that very rock. + Have you yet caught them? + + POL. To mischance succeeds + Mischance; I have fallen down and cracked my skull. + + CHOR. They ’scape you now. + + POL. Ye misinformed me sure; + They are not here. + + CHOR. I say not that they are. + + POL. Where then? + + CHOR. They wheel around you on your left. + + POL. Ah me! I am derided, ye but mock + At my affliction. + + CHOR. They are there no longer: + But Noman stands before you. + + POL. O thou villain, + Where art thou? + +ULYSSES, POLYPHEME, CHORUS. + + ULY. Keeping cautiously aloof, + Thus I, Ulysses, guard my threatened life. + + POL. What saidst thou? Wherefore hast thou changed thy name + T’ assume a new one? + + ULY. Me my father named + Ulysses. It was destined you should suffer + A just requital for your impious feast; + For I in vain had with consuming flames + Laid Ilion waste, had I forborne t’ avenge + On you the murder of my valiant friends. + + POL. Now is that ancient oracle, alas! + Accomplished, which foretold, that I by thee, + On thy return from Troy, should be deprived + Of sight: but that thou also for a deed + So cruel, shalt be punished, and full long + Endure the beating of tempestuous waves. + + ULY. Go weep, my actions justify these words. + But to the shore I haste; and to my country + Will steer the vessel o’er Sicilia’s waves. + + POL. Thou shalt not; with this fragment of the rock + Hurled at thy head, thee and thy perjured crew + Will I demolish: for I yet, though blind, + Can mount the cliff which overhangs the port, + And in its wonted crannies fix my steps. + + CHOR. But we, blest partners in Ulysses’ voyage, + Henceforth the laws of Bacchus will obey. + + + + +HELEN. + + +PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. + + HELEN. + TEUCER. + CHORUS OF GRECIAN DAMES (HELEN’S ATTENDANTS). + MENELAUS. + FEMALE SERVANT. + MESSENGER. + THEOCLYMENUS. + THEONOE. + CASTOR AND POLLUX. + + +SCENE.—PROTEUS’ TOMB, AT THE ENTRANCE OF THEOCLYMENUS’ PALACE IN PHAROS, +AN ISLAND AT THE MOUTH OF THE NILE. + +HELEN. + + Bright are these virgin currents of the Nile + Which water Egypt’s soil, and are supplied, + Instead of drops from heaven, by molten snow. + But Proteus, while he lived, of these domains + Was lord, he in the isle of Pharos dwelt, + King of all Ægypt; for his wife he gained + One of the nymphs who haunt the briny deep, + Fair Psamathe, after she left the bed + Of Æacus; she in the palace bore + To him two children, one of them a son + Called Theoclymenus, because his life + Is passed in duteous homage to the gods; + A daughter also of majestic mien, + Her mother’s darling, in her infant years + (Eidothea called by her enraptured sire): + But when the blooming maid became mature + For nuptial joys, Theonoe was the name + They gave her; all the counsels of the gods, + The present and the future, well she knew, + Such privilege she from her grandsire Nereus + Inherited. But not to fame unknown + Are Sparta’s realm, whence I derive my birth, + And my sire, Tyndarus. There prevails a rumour + That to my mother Leda Jove was borne + On rapid wings, the figure of a swan + Assuming, and by treachery gained admission + To her embraces, flying from an eagle, + If we may credit such report. My name + Is Helen; but I also will recount + What woes I have endured; three goddesses, + For beauty’s prize contending, in the cave + Of Ida, came to Paris; Juno, Venus, + And Pallas, virgin progeny of Jove, + Requesting him to end their strife, and judge + Whose charms outshone her rivals. But proposing + For a reward, my beauty (if the name + Of beauty suit this inauspicious form) + And promising in marriage to bestow me + On Paris, Venus conquered: for the swain + Of Ida, leaving all his herds behind, + Expecting to receive me for his bride, + To Sparta came. But Juno, whose defeat + Fired with resentment her indignant soul, + Our nuptials frustrated; for to the arms + Of royal Priam’s son, she gave not me, + But in my semblance formed a living image + Composed of ether. Paris falsely deemed + That he possessed me; from that time these ills + Have been increased by the decrees of Jove, + For he with war hath visited the realms + Of Greece, and Phrygia’s miserable sons, + That he might lighten from th’ unrighteous swarms + Of its inhabitants the groaning earth, + And on the bravest of the Grecian chiefs + Confer renown. While in the Phrygian war, + As the reward of their victorious arms, + I to the host of Greece have been displayed, + Though absent, save in likeness and in name. + But Mercury, receiving me in folds + Of air, and covering with a cloud (for Jove + Was not unmindful of me), in this house + Of royal Proteus, who of all mankind + Was in his judgment the most virtuous, placed me, + That undefiled I might preserve the bed + Of Menelaus. I indeed am here; + But with collected troops my hapless lord + Pursues the ravisher to Ilion’s towers. + Beside Scamander’s stream hath many a chief + Died in my cause; but I, who have endured + All these afflictions, am a public curse; + For ’tis supposed, that treacherous to my lord, + I have through Greece blown up the flames of war. + Why then do I prolong my life? these words + I heard from Mercury: “That I again + In Sparta, with my husband shall reside, + When he discovers that I never went + To Troy:” he therefore counselled me to keep + A spotless chastity. While Proteus viewed + The solar beams, I from the nuptial yoke + Still lived exempt; but since the darksome grave + Hath covered his remains, the royal son + Of the deceased solicits me to wed him: + But honouring my first husband, at this tomb + Of Proteus, I a suppliant kneel, to him, + To him I sue, to guard my nuptial couch, + That if through Greece I bear a name assailed + By foul aspersions, no unseemly deed + May cover me with real infamy. + +TEUCER, HELEN. + + TEU. Who rules this fortress? such a splendid dome + With royal porticos and blazoned roofs + Seems worthy of a Plutus for its lord. + But, O ye gods, what vision! I behold + That hateful woman who hath ruined me, + And all the Greeks. Heaven’s vengeance on thy head! + Such a resemblance bear’st thou to that Helen, + That if I were not in a foreign land, + I with this stone would smite thee; thou shouldst bleed + For being like Jove’s daughter. + + HEL. Wretched man, + Whoe’er you are, why do you hate me thus + Because of her misfortunes? + + TEU. I have erred + In giving way to such unseemly rage. + All Greece abhors Jove’s daughter. But forgive me, + O woman, for the words which I have uttered. + + HEL. Say who you are, and from what land you come? + + TEU. One of that miserable race the Greeks. + + HEL. No wonder is it then, if you detest + The Spartan Helen. But to me declare, + Who are you, whence, and from what father sprung? + + TEU. My name is Teucer, Telamon my sire; + The land which nurtured me is Salamis. + + HEL. But wherefore do you wander o’er these meads + Laved by the Nile? + + TEU. I from my native land + Am banished. + + HEL. You, alas! must needs be wretched. + Who drove you thence? + + TEU. My father Telamon. + What friend canst thou hold dearer? + + HEL. For what cause + Were you to exile doomed? your situation + Is most calamitous. + + TEU. My brother Ajax, + Who died at Troy, was author of my ruin. + + HEL. How? by your sword deprived of life? + + TEU. He fell, + On his own blade, and perished. + + HEL. Was he mad? + Who could act thus whose intellects are sound? + + TEU. Know’st thou Achilles, Peleus’ son? + + HEL. He erst, + I heard, to Helen as a suitor came. + + TEU. He, at his death, his comrades left to strive + Which should obtain his arms. + + HEL. But why was this + Hurtful to Ajax? + + TEU. When another won + Those arms, he gave up life. + + HEL. Do your afflictions + Rise from his fate? + + TEU. Because I died not with him. + + HEL. O stranger, went you then to Troy’s famed city? + + TEU. And having shared in laying waste its bulwarks, + I also perished. + + HEL. Have the flames consumed, + And utterly destroyed them? + + TEU. Not a trace + Of those proud walls is now to be discerned. + + HEL. Through thee, O Helen, do the Phrygians perish. + + TEU. The Greeks too: for most grievous are the mischiefs + Which have been wrought. + + HEL. What length of time’s elapsed + Since Troy was sacked? + + TEU. Seven times the fruitful year + Hath almost turned around her lingering wheel. + + HEL. But how much longer did your host remain + Before those bulwarks? + + TEU. Many a tedious moon; + There full ten years were spent. + + HEL. And have ye taken + That Spartan dame? + + TEU. By her dishevelled hair, + Th’ adult’ress, Menelaus dragged away. + + HEL. Did you behold that object of distress, + Or speak you from report? + + TEU. These eyes as clearly + Witnessed the whole, as I now view thy face. + + HEL. Be cautious, lest for her ye should mistake + Some well-formed semblance which the gods have sent. + + TEU. Talk if thou wilt on any other subject; + No more of her. + + HEL. Believe you this opinion + To be well-grounded? + + TEU. With these eyes I saw her, + And she e’en now is present to my soul. + + HEL. Have Menelaus and his consort reached + Their home. + + TEU. They are not in the Argive land, + Nor on Eurotas’ banks. + + HEL. Alas! alas! + The tale you have recounted, is to her + Who hears you, an event most inauspicious. + + TEU. He and his consort, both they say are dead. + + HEL. Did not the Greeks in one large squadron sail? + + TEU. Yes; but a storm dispersed their shattered fleet. + + HEL. Where were they, in what seas? + + TEU. They at that time + Through the mid waves of the Ægean deep + Were passing. + + HEL. Can none tell if Menelaus + Escaped this tempest? + + TEU. No man; but through Greece + ’Tis rumoured he is dead. + + HEL. I am undone. + Is Thestius’ daughter living? + + TEU. Mean’st thou Leda? + She with the dead is numbered. + + HEL. Did the shame + Of Helen cause her wretched mother’s death? + + TEU. Around her neck, ’tis said the noble dame + Entwined the gliding noose. + + HEL. But live the sons + Of Tyndarus, or are they too now no more? + + TEU. They are, and are not, dead; for two accounts + Are propagated. + + HEL. Which is best confirmed? + O wretched me! + + TEU. Some say that they are gods + Under the semblance of two radiant stars. + + HEL. Well have you spoken. But what else is rumoured? + + TEU. That on account of their lost sister’s guilt + They died by their own swords. But of these themes + Enough: I wish not to renew my sorrows. + But O assist me in the great affairs + On which I to these royal mansions came, + Wishing to see the prophetess Theonoe, + And learn, from Heaven’s oracular response, + How I may steer my vessel with success + To Cyprus’ isle, where Phœbus hath foretold + That I shall dwell, and on the walls I rear + Bestow the name of Salamis, yet mindful + Of that dear country I have left behind. + + HEL. This will your voyage of itself explain: + But fly from these inhospitable shores, + Ere Proteus’ son, the ruler of this land, + Behold you: fly, for he is absent now + Pursuing with his hounds the savage prey. + He slays each Grecian stranger who becomes + His captive: ask not why, for I am silent; + And what could it avail you to be told? + + TEU. O woman, most discreetly hast thou spoken; + Thy kindness may the righteous gods repay! + For though thy person so resemble Helen, + Thou hast a soul unlike that worthless dame. + Perdition seize her; never may she reach + The current of Eurotas: but mayst thou, + Most generous woman, be for ever blest. + + [_Exit_ TEUCER. + + HEL. Plunged as I am ’midst great and piteous woes, + How shall I frame the plaintive strain, what Muse + With tears, or doleful elegies, invoke? + + ODE. + + I. 1. + + Ye syrens, winged daughters of the earth, + Come and attune the sympathetic string, + Expressive now no more of mirth, + To soothe my griefs, the flute of Libya bring; + Record the tortures which this bosom rend, + And echo back my elegiac strains: + Proserpine next will I invoke, to send + Numbers adapted to her votary’s pains; + So shall her dark abode, while many a tear I shed, + Waft the full dirge to soothe th’ illustrious dead. + +CHORUS, HELEN. + +CHORUS. + + I. 2. + + Near the cerulean margin of our streams + I stood, and on the tufted herbage spread + My purple vestments in those beams + Which from his noontide orb Hyperion shed, + When on a sudden from the waving reeds + I heard a plaintive and unwelcome sound + Of bitter lamentation; o’er the meads + Groans inarticulate were poured around: + Beneath the rocky cave, dear scene of past delight, + Some Naiad thus bewails Pan’s hasty flight. + + HELEN. + + II. 1. + + Ye Grecian nymphs, whom those barbarians caught, + And from your native land reluctant bore, + The tidings which yon sailor brought + Call forth these tears; for Ilion is no more, + By him of Ida, that predicted flame + Destroyed; through me, alas! have myriads bled, + If not through me, through my detested name. + By th’ ignominious noose is Leda dead + Who my imaginary guilt deplored; + And doomed by the relentless Fates in vain + To tedious wanderings, my unhappy lord + At length hath perished ’midst the billowy main: + The twin protectors of their native land, + Castor and Pollux, from all human eyes + Are vanished, they have left Eurotas’ strand, + And fields, in playful strife where each young wrestler vies. + +CHORUS. + + II. 2. + + My royal mistress, your disastrous fate + With many a groan and fruitless tear I mourn. + I from that hour your sorrows date + When amorous Jove on snowy pinions borne, + In form a swan, by Leda was carest. + Is there an evil you have not endured? + Your mother is no more, through you unblest + Are Jove’s twin sons. Nor have your vows procured + Of your dear country the enchanting sight. + A rumour too through various realms hath spread, + Caught by the envious vulgar with delight, + Assigning you to the barbarian’s bed. + Amid the waves, far from the wished-for shore, + Your husband hath been buried in the main. + You shall behold your native walls no more + Nor under burnished roofs your wonted state maintain. + +HELEN. + + III. + + What Phrygian artist on the top of Ide, + Or vagrant of a Grecian line, + Felled that inauspicious pine, + To frame the bark which Paris o’er the tide + Dared with barbaric oars to guide, + When to my palace, in an evil hour + Caught by beauty’s magic power, + He came to seize me for his bride? + But crafty Venus, authoress of these broils, + Marched thither, leagued with death, t’ annoy + Triumphant Greece and vanquished Troy, + (Wretch that I am, consumed with endless toils!) + And Juno seated on her golden throne, + Consort of thundering Jove, + Sent Hermes from the realms above, + Who found me, when I carelessly had strewn + Leaves plucked from roses in my vest, + As Minerva’s votary drest; + He bore me through the paths of air + To this loathed, this dreary land, + Called Greece, and Priam’s friends the strife to share, + And roused to bloody deeds each rival band; + Where Simois’ current glides, my name + Hence is marked with groundless shame. + + CHOR. Your woes I know are grievous: but to bear + With tranquil mind the necessary ills + Of life, is most expedient. + + HEL. To what ills + Have I been subject, O my dear companions! + Did not my mother, as a prodigy + Which wondering mortals gaze at, bring me forth? + For neither Grecian nor barbaric dame + Till then produced an egg, in which her children + Enveloped lay, as they report, from Jove + Leda engendered. My whole life and all + That hath befallen me, but conspires to form + One series of miraculous events; + To Juno some, and to my beauty some. + Are owing. Would to Heaven, that, like a tablet + Whose picture is effaced, I could exchange + This form for one less comely, since the Greeks + Forgetting those abundant gifts showered down + By prosperous Fortune which I now possess, + Think but of what redounds not to my honour, + And still remember my ideal shame. + Whoever therefore, with one single species + Of misery is afflicted by the gods, + Although the weight of Heaven’s chastising hand + Be grievous, may with fortitude endure + Such visitation: but by many woes + Am I oppressed, and first of all exposed + To slanderous tongues, although I ne’er have erred. + It were a lesser evil e’en to sin + Then be suspected falsely. Then the gods, + ’Midst men of barbarous manners, placed me far + From my loved country: torn from every friend, + I languish here, to servitude consigned + Although of free born race: for ’midst barbarians + Are all enslaved but one, their haughty lord. + My fortunes had this single anchor left, + Perchance my husband might at length arrive + To snatch me from my woes; but he, alas! + Is now no more, my mother too is dead, + And I am deemed her murd’ress, though unjustly, + Yet am I branded with this foul reproach; + And she who was the glory of our house, + My daughter in the virgin state grown grey, + Still droops unwedded: my illustrious brothers, + Castor and Pollux, called the sons of Jove, + Are now no more. But I impute my death, + Crushed as I am by all these various woes, + Not to my own misdeeds, but to the power + Of adverse fortune only: this one danger + There yet remains, if at my native land + I should again arrive, they will confine me + In a close dungeon, thinking me that Helen + Who dwelt in Ilion, till she thence was borne + By Menelaus. Were my husband living, + We might have known each other, by producing + Those tokens to which none beside are privy: + But this will never be, nor can he e’er + Return in safety. To what purpose then + Do I still lengthen out this wretched being? + To what new fortunes am I still reserved? + Shall I select a husband, but to vary + My present ills, to dwell beneath the roof + Of a barbarian, at luxurious boards + With wealth abounding, seated? for the dame + Whom wedlock couples with the man she hates + Death is the best expedient. But with glory + How shall I die? the fatal noose appears + To be so base, that e’en in slaves ’tis held + Unseemly thus to perish; in the poniard + There’s somewhat great and generous. But to me + Delays are useless: welcome instant death: + Into such depth of misery am I plunged. + For beauty renders other women blest, + But hath to me the source of ruin proved. + + CHOR. O Helen, whosoe’er the stranger be + Who hither came, believe not that the whole + Of what he said, is truth. + + HEL. But in plain terms + Hath he announced my dearest husband’s death. + + CHOR. The false assertions which prevail, are many. + + HEL. Clear is the language in which honest Truth + Loves to express herself. + + CHOR. You are inclined + Rather to credit inauspicious tidings + Than those which are more favourable. + + HEL. By fears + Encompassed, am I hurried to despair. + + CHOR. What hospitable treatment have you found + Beneath these roofs? + + HEL. All here, except the man + Who seeks to wed me, are my friends. + + CHOR. You know + How then to act: leave this sepulchral gloom. + + HEL. What are the counsels, or the cheering words + You wish to introduce? + + CHOR. Go in, and question + The daughter of the Nereid, her who knows + All hidden truths, Theonoe, if your lord + Yet live, or view the solar beams no more: + And when you have learnt this, as suit your fortunes + Indulge your joys, or pour forth all your tears: + But ere you know aught fully, what avail + Your sorrows? therefore listen to my words; + Leaving this tomb, attend the maid: from her + Shall you know all. But why should you look farther + When truth is in these mansions to be found? + With you the doors I’ll enter; we together + The royal virgin’s oracles will hear. + For ’tis a woman’s duty to exert + Her utmost efforts in a woman’s cause. + + HEL. My friends, your wholesome counsels I approve: + But enter ye these doors, that ye, within + The palace, my calamities may hear. + + CHOR. You summon her who your commands obeys + Without reluctance. + + HEL. Woeful day! ah me, + What lamentable tidings shall I hear? + + CHOR. Forbear these plaintive strains, my dearest queen, + Nor with presaging soul anticipate + Evils to come. + + HEL. What hath my wretched lord + Endured? Doth he yet view the light, the sun + Borne in his radiant chariot, and the paths + Of all the starry train? Or hath he shared + The common lot of mortals, is he plunged + Among the dead, beneath th’ insatiate grave? + + CHOR. O construe what time yet may bring to pass + In the most favourable terms. + + HEL. On thee + I call to testify, and thee adjure, + Eurotas, on whose verdant margin grow + The waving reeds: O tell me, if my lord + Be dead, as fame avers. + + CHOR. Why do you utter + These incoherent ditties? + + HEL. Round my neck + The deadly noose will I entwine, or drive + With my own hand a poinard through my breast; + For I was erst the cause of bloody strife; + But now am I a victim, to appease + The wrath of those three goddesses who strove + On Ida’s mount, when ’midst the stalls where fed + His lowing herds, the son of Priam waked + The sylvan reed, to celebrate my beauty. + + CHOR. Cause these averted ills, ye gods, to light + On other heads; but, O my royal mistress, + May you be happy. + + HEL. Thou, O wretched Troy, + To crimes which thou hast ne’er committed, ow’st + Thy ruin, and those horrible disasters + Thou hast endured. For as my nuptial gifts, + Hath Venus caused an intermingled stream + Of blood and tears to flow, she, griefs to griefs + And tears to tears hath added; all these sufferings + Have been the miserable Ilion’s lot. + Of their brave sons the mothers were bereft + The virgin sisters of the mighty dead + Strewed their shorn tresses on Scamander’s banks, + While, by repeated shrieks, victorious Greece + Her woes expressing, smote her laurelled head, + And with her nails deep furrowing tore her cheeks. + Happy Calisto, thou Arcadian nymph + Who didst ascend the couch of Jove, transformed + To a four-footed savage, far more blest + Art thou than she to whom I owe my birth: + For thou beneath the semblance of a beast, + Thy tender limbs with shaggy hide o’erspread, + And glaring with stern visage, by that change + Didst end thy griefs. She too whom Dian drove + Indignant from her choir, that hind whose horns + Were tipped with gold, the bright Titanian maid, + Daughter of Merops, to her beauty owed + That transformation: but my charms have ruined + Both Troy and the unhappy Grecian host. + + [_Exeunt_ HELEN _and_ CHORUS. + +MENELAUS. + + O Pelops, in the strife on Pisa’s field, + Who didst outstrip the fiery steeds that whirled + The chariot of Oenomaus, would to Heaven + That when thy severed limbs before the gods + Were at the banquet placed, thou then thy life + Amidst the blest immortal powers hadst closed, + Ere thou my father Atreus didst beget, + Whose issue by his consort Ærope + Were Agamemnon and myself, two chiefs + Of high renown. No ostentatious words + Are these; but such a numerous host, I deem, + As that which we to Ilion’s shore conveyed, + Ne’er stemmed the tide before; these troops their king + Led not by force to combat, but bore rule + O’er Grecian youths his voluntary subjects, + And among these, some heroes, now no more, + May we enumerate; others from the sea + Who ’scaped with joy, and to their homes returned, + E’en after fame had classed them with the dead. + But I, most wretched, o’er the briny waves + Of ocean wander, since I have o’erthrown + The battlements of Troy, and though I wish + Again to reach my country; by the gods + Am I esteemed unworthy of such bliss. + E’en to the Libyan deserts have I sailed, + And traversed each inhospitable scene + Of brutal outrage; still as I approach + My country, the tempestuous winds repel me, + Nor hath a prosperous breeze from Heaven yet filled + My sails, to waft me to the Spartan coast: + And now a shipwrecked, miserable man, + Reft of my friends, I on these shores am cast, + My vessel hath been shivered ’gainst the rocks + Into a thousand fragments: on the keel, + The only part which yet remains entire + Of all that fabric, scarce could I and Helen, + Whom I from Troy have borne, escape with life + Through fortunes unforeseen: but of this land + And its inhabitants, the name I know not: + For with the crowd I blushed to intermingle + Lest they my squalid garments should observe, + Through shame my wants concealing. For the man + Of an exalted station, when assailed + By adverse fortune, having never learned + How to endure calamity, is plunged + Into a state far worse than he whose woes + Have been of ancient date. But pinching need + Torments me: for I have not either food + Or raiment to protect my shivering frame, + Which may be guessed from these vile rags I wear + Cast up from my wrecked vessel: for the sea + Hath swallowed up my robes, my tissued vests, + And every ensign of my former state. + Within the dark recesses of a cave + Having concealed my wife, that guilty cause + Of all my woes, and my surviving friends + Enjoined to guard her, hither am I come. + Alone, in quest of necessary aid + For my brave comrades whom I there have left, + If by my search I haply can obtain it, + I roam; but when I viewed this house adorned + With gilded pinnacles, and gates that speak + The riches of their owner, I advanced: + For I have hopes that from this wealthy mansion + I, somewhat for my sailors, shall obtain. + But they who want the necessary comforts + Of life, although they are disposed to aid us, + Yet have not wherewithal. Ho! who comes forth + From yonder gate, my doleful tale to bear + Into the house? + +FEMALE SERVANT, MENELAUS. + + FEMALE SER. Who at the threshold stands? + Wilt thou not hence depart, lest thy appearance + Before these doors give umbrage to our lords? + Else shalt thou surely die, because thou cam’st + From Greece, whose sons shall never hence return. + + MEN. Well hast thou spoken, O thou aged dame. + Wilt thou permit me? For to thy behests + Must I submit: but suffer me to speak. + + FEMALE SER. Depart: for ’tis my duty to permit + No Greek to enter this imperial dome. + + MEN. Lift not thy hand against me, nor attempt + To drive me hence by force. + + FEMALE SER. Thou wilt not yield + To my advice, thou therefore art to blame. + + MEN. Carry my message to thy lords within. + + FEMALE SER. I fear lest somewhat dreadful might ensue, + Should I repeat your words. + + MEN. I hither come + A shipwrecked man, a stranger, one of those + Whom all hold sacred. + + FEMALE SER. To some other house, + Instead of this, repair. + + MEN. I am determined + To enter: but comply with my request. + + FEMALE SER. Be well assured thou art unwelcome here, + And shalt ere long by force be driven away. + + MEN. Alas! alas! where are my valiant troops? + + FEMALE SER. Elsewhere, perhaps, thou wert a mighty man; + But here art thou no longer such. + + MEN. O Fortune! + How am I galled with undeserved reproach! + + FEMALE SER. Why are those eyelids moist with tears, why griev’st thou? + + MEN. Because I once was happy. + + FEMALE SER. Then depart, + And mingle social tears with those thou lov’st. + + MEN. But what domain is this, to whom belong + These royal mansions? + + FEMALE SER. Proteus here resides; + This land is Egypt. + + MEN. Egypt? wretched me! + Ah, whither have I sailed! + + FEMALE SER. But for what cause + Scorn’st thou the race of Nile? + + MEN. I scorn them not: + My own disastrous fortunes I bewail. + + FEMALE SER. Many are wretched, thou in this respect + Art nothing singular. + + MEN. Is he, the king + Thou speak’st of, here within? + + FEMALE SER. To him belongs + This tomb; his son is ruler of this land. + + MEN. But where is he: abroad, or in the palace? + + FEMALE SER. He’s not within; but to the Greeks he bears + The greatest enmity. + + MEN. Whence rose this hate, + Productive of such bitter fruits to me? + + FEMALE SER. Beneath these roofs Jove’s daughter Helen dwells. + + MEN. What mean’st thou? Ha! what words with wonder fraught + Are these which thou hast uttered? O repeat them. + + FEMALE SER. The child of Tyndarus, she who in the realm + Of Sparta erst abode. + + MEN. Whence came she hither? + How can this be? + + FEMALE SER. From Lacedæmon’s realm. + + MEN. When? Hath my wife been torn from yonder cave? + + FEMALE SER. Before the Greeks, O stranger, went to Troy + Retreat then from these mansions, for within + Hath happened a calamitous event, + By which the palace is disturbed. Thou com’st + Unseasonably, and if the king surprise thee, + Instead of hospitable treatment, death + Must be thy portion. To befriend the Greeks + Though well inclined, yet thee have I received + With these harsh words, because I fear the monarch. + + [_Exit_ FEMALE SERVANT. + + MEN. What shall I say? For I, alas! am told + Of present sorrows added to the past. + Come I not hither, after having borne + From vanquished Troy my consort, whom I left + Within yon cave well guarded? Yet here dwells + Another Helen, whom that woman called + Jove’s daughter. Lives there on the banks of Nile + A man who bears the sacred name of Jove? + For in the heavens there’s only one. What country, + But that where glides Eurotas’ stream beset + With waving reeds, is Sparta? Tyndarus’ name + Suits him alone. But is there any land + Synonymous with Lacedæmon’s realm, + And that of Troy? I know not how to solve + This doubt; for there are many, it appears, + In various regions of the world, who bear + Like appellations; city corresponds + With city; woman borrows that of woman; + Nor must we therefore wonder. Yet again + Here will I stay, though danger be announced + By yonder aged servant at the door: + For there is no man so devoid of pity + As not to give me food, when he the name + Of Menelaus hears. That dreadful fire + By which the Phrygian bulwarks were consumed + Is memorable, and I who kindled it + Am known in every land. I’ll therefore wait + Until the master of this house return. + But I have two expedients, and will practise + That which my safety shall require; of soul + Obdurate, if he prove, in my wrecked bark + Can I conceal myself, but if the semblance + Which he puts on, be mild, I for relief + From these my present miseries, will apply. + But this of all the woes that I endure + Is the most grievous, that from other kings + I, though a king myself, should be reduced + To beg my food: but thus hath Fate ordained. + Nor is it my assertion, but a maxim + Among the wise established, that there’s nought + More powerful than the dread behests of Fate. + +HELEN, CHORUS, MENELAUS. + + CHOR. I heard what yon prophetic maid foretold, + Who in the palace did unfold + The oracles; that to the shades profound + Of Erebus, beneath the ground + Interred, not yet hath Menelaus ta’en + His passage: on the stormy main + Still tossed, he cannot yet approach the strand, + The haven of the Spartan land: + The chief, who now his vagrant life bewails, + Without a friend, unfurls his sails, + From Ilion’s realm to every distant shore + Borne o’er the deep with luckless oar. + + HEL. I to this hallowed tomb again repair, + Now I have heard the grateful tidings uttered + By sage Theonoe, who distinctly knows + All that hath happened? for she says my lord + Is living, and yet views the solar beams: + But after passing o’er unnumbered straits + Of ocean, to a vagrant’s wretched life + Full long inured, on these Ægyptian coasts, + When he his toils hath finished, shall arrive. + Yet there is one thing more, which she hath left + Unmentioned, whether he shall come with safety. + This question I neglected to propose, + O’erjoyed when she informed me he yet lives; + She also adds, that he is near the land, + From his wrecked ship, with his few friends, cast forth, + O mayst thou come at length; for ever dear + To me wilt thou arrive. Ha! who is that? + Am not I caught, through some deceitful scheme + Of Proteus’ impious son, in hidden snares? + Like a swift courser, or the madding priestess + Of Bacchus, shall I not with hasty step + Enter the tomb, because his looks are fierce + Who rushes on, and strives to overtake me? + + MEN. On thee I call, who to the yawning trench + Around that tomb, and blazing altars hiest + Precipitate. Stay: wherefore dost thou fly? + With what amazement doth thy presence strike + And almost leave me speechless! + + HEL. O my friends, + I suffer violence; for from the tomb + I by this man am dragged, who to the king + Will give me, from whose nuptial couch I fled. + + MEN. We are no pirates, nor the ministers + Of lustful villany. + + HEL. Yet is the vest + You wear unseemly. + + MEN. Stay thy rapid flight, + Dismiss thy fears. + + HEL. I stop, now I have reached + This hallowed spot. + + MEN. Say, woman, who thou art; + What face do I behold? + + HEL. But who are you? + For I by the same reasons am induced + To ask this question. + + MEN. Never did I see + A greater likeness. + + HEL. O ye righteous gods! + For ’tis a privilege the gods alone + Confer, to recognize our long-lost friends. + + MEN. Art thou a Grecian or a foreign dame? + + HEL. Of Greece: but earnestly I wish to know + Whence you derive your origin. + + MEN. In thee + A wonderful resemblance I discern + Of Helen. + + HEL. Menelaus’ very features + These eyes in you behold, still at a loss + Am I for words t’ express my thoughts. + + MEN. Full clearly + Hast thou discovered a most wretched man. + + HEL. O to thy consort’s arms at length restored! + + MEN. To what a consort? O forbear to touch + My garment! + + HEL. E’en the same, whom to your arms, + A noble bride, my father Tyndarus gave. + + MEN. Send forth, O Hecate, thou orb of light, + Some more benignant spectre. + + HEL. You in me + Behold not one of those who minister + At Hecate’s abhorred nocturnal rites. + + MEN. Nor am I sure the husband of two wives. + + HEL. Say, to whom else in wedlock are you joined? + + MEN. To her who lies concealed in yonder cave, + The prize I hither bring from vanquished Troy. + + HEL. You have no wife but me. + + MEN. If I retain + My reason yet, these eyes are sure deceived. + + HEL. Seem you not then, while me you thus behold, + To view your real consort? + + MEN. Though your person + Resemble hers, no positive decision + Can I presume to form. + + HEL. Observe me well, + And mark wherein we differ. Who can judge + With greater certainty than you? + + MEN. Thou bear’st + Her semblance, I confess. + + HEL. Who can inform you + Better than your own eyes? + + MEN. What makes me doubt + Is this; because I have another wife. + + HEL. To the domains of Troy I never went: + It was my image only. + + MEN. Who can fashion + Such bodies, with the power of sight endued? + + HEL. Composed of ether, you a consort have, + Heaven’s workmanship. + + MEN. Wrought by what plastic god? + For the events thou speak’st of are most wondrous. + + HEL. Lest Paris should obtain me, this exchange + Was made by Juno. + + MEN. How couldst thou be here, + At the same time, and in the Phrygian realm? + + HEL. The name, but not the body, can be present + At once in many places. + + MEN. O release me; + For I came hither in an evil hour. + + HEL. Will you then leave me here, and bear away + That shadow of a wife? + + MEN. Yet, O farewell, + Because thou art like Helen. + + HEL. I’m undone: + For though my husband I again have found, + Yet shall not I possess him. + + MEN. My conviction, + From all those grievous toils I have endured + At Ilion, I derive, and not from thee. + + HEL. Ah, who is there more miserable than I am? + My dearest friends desert me: I, to Greece, + To my dear native land, shall ne’er return. + +MESSENGER, MENELAUS, HELEN, CHORUS. + + MES. After a tedious search, O Menelaus, + At length have I with difficulty found you, + But not till over all the wide extent + Of this barbaric region I had wandered; + Sent by the comrades whom you left behind. + + MEN. Have ye been plundered then by the barbarians? + + MES. A most miraculous event hath happened, + Yet less astonishing by far in name + Than in reality. + + MEN. Speak, for thou bring’st + Important tidings by this breathless haste. + + MES. My words are these: in vain have you endured + Unnumbered toils. + + MEN. Those thou bewail’st are ills + Of ancient date. But what hast thou to tell me? + + MES. Borne to the skies your consort from our sight + Hath vanished, in the heavens is she concealed, + Leaving the cave in which we guarded her, + When she these words had uttered: “O ye sons + Of hapless Phrygia, and of Greece: for me + Beside Scamander’s conscious stream ye died, + Through Juno’s arts, because ye falsely deemed + Helen by Phrygian Paris was possest: + But after having here remained on earth + My stated time, observing the decrees + Of Fate, I to my sire the liquid ether + Return: but Tyndarus’ miserable daughter, + Though guiltless, hath unjustly been accused.” + Daughter of Leda hail! wert thou then here? + While I as if thou to the starry paths + Hadst mounted, through my ignorance proclaimed + Thou from this world on rapid wings wert borne. + But I no longer will allow thee thus + To sport with the afflictions of thy friends; + For in thy cause thy lord and his brave troops + On Ilion’s coast already have endured + Abundant toils. + + MEN. These are the very words + She uttered; and by what ye both aver + The truth is ascertained. O happy day + Which gives thee to my arms! + + HEL. My dearest lord, + O Menelaus, it is long indeed + Since I have seen you: but joy comes at last. + My friends, transported I receive my lord + Whom I once more with these fond arms enfold, + After the radiant chariot of the sun + Hath oft the world illumined. + + MEN. I embrace + Thee too: but having now so much to say + I know not with what subject to begin. + + HEL. Joy raises my exulting crest, these tears + Are tears of ecstasy, around your neck + My arms I fling with transport, O my husband, + O sight most wished for! + + MEN. I acquit the Fates, + Since Jove’s and Leda’s daughter I possess, + On whom her brothers borne on milk-white steeds + Erst showered abundant blessings, when the torch + Was kindled at our jocund nuptial rite; + Though from my palace her the gods conveyed. + But evil now converted into good + To me thy husband hath at length restored + My long-lost consort: grant, O bounteous Heaven, + That I these gifts of fortune may enjoy. + + HEL. May you enjoy them, for my vows concur + With yours; nor, of us two, can one be wretched + Without the other. O my friends, I groan + No longer, I no longer shed the tear + For my past woes: my husband I possess + Whom I from Troy expected to return + Full many, many years. + + MEN. I still am thine, + And thee with these fond arms again enfold. + But oft the chariot of the sun revolved + Through his diurnal orbit, ere the frauds + Of Juno I discerned. Yet more from joy + Than from affliction rise the tears I shed. + + HEL. What shall I say? what mortal could presume + E’er to have hoped for such a blest event? + An unexpected visitant once more + I clasp you to my bosom. + + MEN. And I thee + Who didst appear to sail for Ida’s town, + And Ilion’s wretched turrets. By the gods, + Inform me, I conjure thee, by what means + Thou from my palace hither wert conveyed. + + HEL. Alas! you to the source of all my woes + Ascend, and search into most bitter tidings. + + MEN. Speak: for whate’er hath been ordained by Heaven + Ought to be published. + + HEL. I abhor the topic + On which I now am entering. + + MEN. Yet relate + All that thou know’st; for pleasing ’tis to hear + Of labours that are past. + + HEL. I never went + To that barbarian youth’s adulterous couch + By the swift oar impelled: but winged love + Those hapless spousals formed. + + MEN. What god, what fate + Hath torn thee from thy country? + + HEL. O my lord, + The son of Jove hath placed me on the banks + Of Nile. + + MEN. With what amazement do I hear + This wondrous tale of thy celestial guide! + + HEL. Oft have I wept, and still the tear bedews + These eyes: to Juno, wife of Jove, I owe + My ruin. + + MEN. Wherefore wished she to have heaped + Mischiefs on thee? + + HEL. Ye sources of whate’er + To me hath been most dreadful, O ye baths + And fountains, where those goddesses adorned + Their rival beauties, from whose influence rose + That judgment! + + MEN. Were those curses on thy head + By Juno showered, that judgment to requite? + + HEL. To rescue me from Venus. + + MEN. What thou mean’st + Inform me. + + HEL. Who to Paris had engaged—— + + MEN. O wretched woman! + + HEL. Wretched, wretched me! + Thus did she waft me to th’ Egyptian coast. + + MEN. Then in thy stead to him that image gave, + As thou inform’st me. + + HEL. But alas! what woes + Thence visited our wretched house! ah mother! + Ah me! + + MEN. What sayst thou? + + HEL. Leda is no more. + Around her neck she fixed the deadly noose + On my account, through my unhappy nuptials + O’erwhelmed with foul disgrace. + + MEN. Alas! But lives + Hermione our daughter? + + HEL. Yet unwedded, + Yet childless, O my husband, she bewails + My miserable ’spousals, my disgrace. + + MEN. O Paris, who hast utterly o’erthrown + All my devoted house, these curst events, + Both thee, and myriads of the Grecian troops + With brazen arms refulgent, have destroyed. + + HEL. But from my country in an evil hour, + From my loved native city, and from you, + Me hath the goddess driven, a wretch accursed + In that I left our home, and bridal bed, + Which yet I left not, for those base espousals. + + CHOR. If ye hereafter meet with happier fortune, + This may atone for all ye have endured + Already. + + MES. To me too, O Menelaus, + Communicate a portion of that joy + Which I perceive, but know not whence it springs. + + MEN. Thou too, old man, shalt in our conference share. + + MES. Was not she then the cause of all the woes + Endured at Troy? + + MEN. Not she: we were deceived + By those immortal Powers, whose plastic hand + Moulded a cloud into that baleful image. + + MES. What words are these you utter? have we toiled + In vain, and only for an empty cloud? + + MEN. These deeds were wrought by Juno, and the strife + ’Twixt the three goddesses. + + MES. But is this woman + Indeed your wife? + + MEN. E’en she: and thou for this + On my assertion safely mayst depend. + + MES. My daughter, O how variable is Jove, + And how inscrutable! for he with ease + Whirls us around, now here, now there; one suffers + Full many toils; another, who ne’er knew + What sorrow was, is swallowed up at once + In swift perdition, nor in Fortune’s gifts + A firm and lasting tenure doth enjoy. + Thou and thy husband have endured a war, + Of slander thou, but he of pointed spears: + For by the tedious labours he endured + He nothing could obtain, but now obtains + The greatest and the happiest of all boons, + Which comes to him unsought. Thou hast not shamed + Thy aged father, and the sons of Jove, + Nor acted as malignant rumour speaks. + I now renew thy hymeneal rite, + And still am mindful of the torch I bore, + Running before the steeds, when in a car + Thou with this favoured bridegroom wert conveyed + From thy paternal mansion’s happy gates. + For worthless is that servant who neglects + His master’s interests, nor partakes their joys, + Nor feels for their afflictions. I was born + Indeed a slave, yet I with generous slaves + Would still be numbered, for although the name + I bear is abject, yet my soul is free. + Far better this, than if I had at once + Suffered two evils, a corrupted heart, + And vile subjection to another’s will. + + MEN. Courage, old man: for thou hast borne my shield, + And in my cause endured unnumbered toils, + Sharing my dangers: now partake my joys; + Go tell the friends I left, what thou hast seen, + And our auspicious fortunes: on the shore + Bid them remain, till our expected conflict + Is finished; and observe how we may sail + From this loathed coast; that, with our better fortune + Conspiring, we, if possible, may ’scape + From these barbarians. + + MES. Your commands, O king, + Shall be obeyed. But I perceive how vain + And how replete with falsehood is the voice + Of prophets: no dependence can be placed + Upon the flames that from the altar rise, + Or on the voices of the feathered choir. + It is the height of folly to suppose + That birds are able to instruct mankind. + For Calchas, to the host, nor by his words + Nor signs, declared, “I for a cloud behold + My friends in battle slain.” The seer was mute, + And Troy in vain was taken. But perhaps + You will rejoin, “’Twas not the will of Heaven + That he should speak.” Why then do we consult + These prophets? We by sacrifice should ask + For blessings from the gods, and lay aside + All auguries. This vain delusive bait + Was but invented to beguile mankind. + No sluggard e’er grew rich by divination, + The best of seers are Prudence and Discernment. + + [_Exit_ MESSENGER. + + CHOR. My sentiments on prophets well accord + With those of this old man. He whom the gods + Th’ immortal gods befriend, in his own house + Hath a response that never can mislead. + + HEL. So be it. All thus far is well. But how + You came with safety, O unhappy man, + From Troy, ’twill nought avail for me to know; + Yet with the sorrows of their friends, have friends + A wish to be acquainted. + + MEN. Thou hast asked + A multitude of questions in one short + And blended sentence. Why should I recount + To thee our sufferings on the Ægean deep, + Those treacherous beacons, by the vengeful hand + Of Nauplius kindled on Eubœa’s rocks, + The towns of Crete, or in the Libyan realm, + Which I have visited, and the famed heights + Of Perseus? never could my words assuage + Thy curiosity, and, by repeating + My woes to thee, I should but grieve the more, + And yet a second time those sufferings feel. + + HEL. You in your answer have been more discreet + Than I who such a question did propose. + But pass o’er all beside, and only tell me + How long you wandered o’er the briny main. + + MEN. Year after year, besides the ten at Troy, + Seven tedious revolutions of the sun. + + HEL. The time you speak of, O unhappy man, + Is long indeed: but from those dangers saved + You hither come to bleed. + + MEN. What words are these? + What dost thou mean? O, how hast thou undone me! + + HEL. Fly from these regions with your utmost speed: + Or he to whom this house belongs will slay you. + + MEN. What have I done that merits such a fate? + + HEL. You hither come an unexpected guest, + And are a hindrance to my bridal rite. + + MEN. Is there a man then who presumes to wed + My consort? + + HEL. And with arrogance to treat me, + Which I, alas! have hitherto endured. + + MEN. Of private rank, in his own strength alone + Doth he confide, or rules he o’er the land? + + HEL. Lord of this region, royal Proteus’ son. + + MEN. This is the very riddle which I heard + From yonder female servant. + + HEL. At which gate + Of this barbarian palace did you stand? + + MEN. Here, whence I like a beggar was repelled. + + HEL. What, did you beg for food! ah wretched me! + + MEN. The fact was thus: though I that abject name + Assumed not. + + HEL. You then know, it seems, the whole + About my nuptials. + + MEN. This I know: but whether + Thou has escaped th’ embraces of the king + I still am uninformed. + + HEL. That I have kept + Your bed still spotless, may you rest assured. + + MEN. How canst thou prove the fact? if thou speak truth + To me, it will give pleasure. + + HEL. Do you see, + Close to the tomb, my miserable seat? + + MEN. I on the ground behold a couch: but what + Hast thou to do with that, O wretched woman? + + HEL. Here I a suppliant bowed, that I might ’scape + From those espousals. + + MEN. Couldst thou find no altar, + Or dost thou follow the barbarian mode? + + HEL. Equally with the temples of the gods + Will this protect me. + + MEN. Is not then my bark + Allowed to waft thee to the Spartan shore? + + HEL. Rather the sword than Helen’s bridal bed + Awaits you. + + MEN. Thus should I of all mankind + Be the most wretched. + + HEL. Let not shame prevent + Your ’scaping from this land. + + MEN. And leaving thee, + For whom I laid the walls of Ilion waste? + + HEL. ’Twere better than to perish in the cause + Of me your consort. + + MEN. Such unmanly deeds + As these thou speak’st of would disgrace the chief + Who conquered Troy. + + HEL. You cannot slay the king, + Which is perhaps the project you have formed. + + MEN. Hath he then such a body as no steel + Can penetrate? + + HEL. My reasons you shall know. + But it becomes not a wise man t’ attempt + What cannot be performed. + + MEN. Shall I submit + My hands in silence to the galling chain? + + HEL. You know not how to act in these dire straits + To which we are reduced: but of some plot + Must we avail ourselves. + + MEN. ’Twere best to die + In some brave action than without a conflict. + + HEL. One only hope of safety yet remains. + + MEN. By gold can it be purchased, or depends it + On dauntless courage, or persuasive words? + + HEL. Of your arrival if the monarch hear not. + + MEN. Who can inform him? he will never sure + Know who I am. + + HEL. He hath a sure associate, + Within his palace, equal to the gods. + + MEN. Some voice which from its inmost chambers sounds? + + HEL. No: ’tis his sister, her they call Theonoe. + + MEN. She bears indeed a most prophetic name; + But say, what mighty deeds can she perform? + + HEL. All things she knows, and will inform her brother + That you are here. + + MEN. We both, alas! must die, + Nor can I possibly conceal myself. + + HEL. Could our united supplications move her? + + MEN. To do what action? Into what vain hope + Wouldst thou mislead me? + + HEL. Not to tell her brother + That you are in the land. + + MEN. If we prevail + Thus far, can we escape from these domains? + + HEL. With ease, if she concur in our design, + But not without her knowledge. + + MEN. This depends + On thee: for woman best prevails with woman. + + HEL. Around her knees these suppliant hands I’ll twine. + + MEN. Go then; but what if she reject our prayer? + + HEL. You certainly must die; and I by force + Shall to the king be wedded. + + MEN. Thou betray’st me; + That force thou talk’st of is but mere pretence. + + HEL. But by your head that sacred oath I swear. + + MEN. What sayst thou, wilt thou die, and never change + Thy husband? + + HEL. By the self-same sword: my corse + Shall lie beside you. + + MEN. To confirm the words + Which thou hast spoken, take my hand. + + HEL. I take + Your hand, and swear that after you are dead + I will not live. + + MEN. And I will put an end + To my existence, if deprived of thee. + + HEL. But how shall we die so as to procure + Immortal glory? + + MEN. Soon as on the tomb + Thee I have slain, myself will I destroy. + But first a mighty conflict shall decide + Our claims who to thy bridal bed aspire. + Let him who dares, draw near: for the renown + I won at Troy, I never will belie, + Nor yet returning to the Grecian shore + Suffer unnumbered taunts for having reft + Thetis of her Achilles, and beheld + Ajax the Telamonian hero slain, + With Neleus’ grandson, though I dare not bleed + To save my consort. Yet on thy behalf + Without regret, will I surrender up + This fleeting life: for if the gods are wise + They lightly scatter dust upon the tomb. + Of the brave man who by his foes is slain, + But pile whole mountains on the coward’s breast. + + CHOR. O may the race of Tantalus, ye gods, + At length be prosperous, may their sorrows cease! + + HEL. Wretch that I am! for such is my hard fate: + O Menelaus, we are lost for ever. + The prophetess Theonoe, from the palace + Comes forth: I hear the sounding gates unbarred. + Fly from this spot. But whither can you fly? + For your arrival here, full well she knows, + Absent, or present. How, O wretched me, + Am I undone! in safety you return + From Troy, from a barbarian land, to rush + Again upon the swords of fresh barbarians. + +THEONOE, MENELAUS, HELEN, CHORUS. + + THEON. [_to one of her Attendants_.] + Lead thou the way, sustaining in thy hand + The kindled torch, and fan the ambient air, + Observing every due and solemn rite, + That we may breathe the purest gales of Heaven. + Meanwhile do thou, if any impious foot + Have marked the path, with lustral flames efface + The taint, and wave the pitchy brand around, + That I may pass; and when we have performed + Our duteous homage to th’ immortal powers, + Into the palace let the flame be borne, + Restore it to the Lares. What opinion + Have you, O Helen, of th’ events foretold + By my prophetic voice? Your husband comes, + Your Menelaus in this land appears, + Reft of his ships, and of your image reft. + ’Scaped from what dangers, O unhappy man, + Art thou arrived, although thou know’st not yet + Whether thou e’er shalt to thy home return, + Or here remain. For there is strife in Heaven; + And Jove on thy account this day will hold + A council; Juno who was erst thy foe, + Now grown benignant, with thy consort safe + To Sparta would convey thee, that all Greece + May understand that the fictitious nuptials + Of Paris, were the baleful gift of Venus. + But Venus wants to frustrate thy return, + Lest she should be convicted, or appear + At least the palm of beauty to have purchased + By vending Helen for a wife to Paris. + But this important question to decide, + On me depends; I either can destroy thee, + Which is the wish of Venus, by informing + My brother thou art here; or save thy life + By taking Juno’s side, and thy arrival + Concealing from my brother, who enjoined me + To inform him whensoe’er thou on these shores + Shouldst land. Who bears the tidings to my brother, + That Menelaus’ self is here, to save me + From his resentment? + + HEL. At thy knees I fall, + O virgin, as a suppliant, and here take + My miserable seat, both for myself, + And him whom, scarce restored to me, I see + Now on the verge of death. Forbear t’ inform + Thy brother, that to these fond arms my lord + Again is come. O save him, I implore thee; + Nor gratify thy brother, by betraying + The feelings of humanity, to purchase + A wicked and unjust applause: for Jove + Detests all violence, he bids us use + What we possess, but not increase our stores + By rapine. It is better to be poor, + Than gain unrighteous wealth. For all mankind + Enjoy these common blessings, Air and Earth; + Nor ought we our own house with gold to fill, + By keeping fraudfully another’s right, + Or seizing it by violence. For Hermes, + Commissioned by the blest immortal powers, + Hath, at my cost, consigned me to thy sire, + To keep me for this husband, who is here + And claims me back again: but by what means + Can he receive me after he is dead? + Or how can the Ægyptian king restore me + A living consort to my breathless lord? + Consider therefore, both the will of Heaven + And that of thy great father. Would the god, + Would the deceased, surrender up or keep + Another’s right? I deem they would restore it. + Hence to thy foolish brother shouldst not thou + Pay more respect than to thy virtuous sire. + And sure if thou, a prophetess, who utter’st + Th’ oracular responses of the gods, + Break’st through thy father’s justice, to comply + With an unrighteous brother: it were base + In thee to understand each mystic truth + Revealed by the immortal powers, the things + That are, and those that are not; yet o’erlook + The rules of justice. But O stoop to save + Me, miserable me, from all those ills + In which I am involved; this great exertion + Of thy benignant aid, my fortunes claim. + For there is no man who abhors not Helen; + ’Tis rumoured through all Greece that I betrayed + My husband, and abode beneath the roofs + Of wealthy Phrygia. But to Greece once more + Should I return, and to the Spartan realm; + When they are told, and see, how to the arts + Of these contending goddesses they owe + Their ruin; but that I have to my friends + Been ever true, they to the rank I held + ’Midst chaste and virtuous matrons, will restore me: + My daughter too, whom no man dares to wed, + From me her bridal portion shall receive; + And I, no longer doomed to lead the life + Of an unhappy vagrant, shall enjoy + The treasures that our palaces contain. + Had Menelaus died, and been consumed + In the funereal pyre, I should have wept + For him far distant in a foreign realm; + But now shall I for ever be bereft + Of him who lives, and seem to have escaped + From every danger. Virgin, act not thus; + To thee I kneel a suppliant; O confer + On me this boon, and emulate the justice + Of your great sire. For fair renown attends + The children, from a virtuous father sprung, + Who equal their hereditary worth. + + THEON. Most piteous are the words which you have spoken; + You also claim my pity: but I wish + To hear what Menelaus yet can plead + To save his life. + + MEN. I cannot at your knees + Fall prostrate, or with tears these eyelids stain: + For I should cover all the great exploits + Which I achieved at Ilion with disgrace, + If I became a dastard; though some hold + ’Tis not unworthy of the brave to weep + When wretched. But this honourable part + (If such a part can e’er be honourable) + I will not act, because the prosperous fortunes + Which erst were mine, are present to my soul. + If then you haply are disposed to save + A foreigner who justly claims his wife, + Restore her, and protect us: if you spurn + Our suit, I am not now for the first time, + But have been often wretched, and your name + Shall be recorded as an impious woman. + These thoughts, which I hold worthy of myself, + And just, and such as greatly must affect + Your inmost heart, I at your father’s tomb + With energy will utter. Good old man, + Beneath this marble sepulchre who dwell’st, + To thee I sue, restore my wife, whom Jove + Sent hither to thy realm, that thou for me + Might’st guard her. Thou, I know, since thou art dead, + Canst ne’er have power to give her back again: + But she, this holy priestess, will not suffer + Reproach to fall on her illustrious sire, + Whom I invoke amid the shades beneath: + For this depends on her. Thee too I call, + O Pluto, to my aid, who hast received + Full many a corse, which fell in Helen’s cause + Beneath my sword, and still retain’st the prize: + Either restore them now to life, or force + Her who seems mightier than her pious father, + To give me back my wife. But of my consort + If ye resolve to rob me, I will urge + Those arguments which Helen hath omitted. + Know then, O virgin, first I by an oath + Have bound myself, your brother to encounter, + And he, or I, must perish; the plain truth + Is this. But foot to foot in equal combat. + If he refuse to meet me, and attempt + To drive us suppliants from the tomb by famine, + My consort will I slay, and with the sword + Here on this sepulchre my bosom pierce, + That the warm current of our blood may stream + Into the grave. Thus shall our corses lie + Close to each other on this polished marble: + To you eternal sorrow shall they cause, + And foul reproach to your great father’s name. + For neither shall your brother wed my Helen, + Nor any man beside: for I with me + Will bear her; if I cannot bear her home, + Yet will I bear her to the shades beneath. + But why complain? If I shed tears, and act + The woman’s part, I rather shall become + An object of compassion, than deserve + To be esteemed a warrior. If you list, + Slay me, for I can never fall inglorious. + But rather yield due credence to my words, + So will you act with justice, and my wife + Shall I recover. + + CHOR. To decide the cause + On which we speak, belongs to thee, O virgin: + But so decide as to please all. + + THEON. By nature + And inclination am I formed to act + With piety, myself too I revere: + Nor will I e’er pollute my sire’s renown, + Or gratify my brother by such means + As might make me seem base. For from my birth, + Hath justice in this bosom fixed her shrine: + And since from Nereus I inherited + This temper, Menelaus will I strive + To save. But now since Juno is disposed + To be your friend, with her will I accord: + May Venus be propitious, though her rites + I never have partaken, and will strive + For ever to remain a spotless maid. + But I concur with thee, O Menelaus, + In all thou to my father at his tomb + Hast said: for with injustice should I act + If I restored not Helen: had he lived, + My sire on thee again would have bestowed + Thy consort, and her former lord on Helen. + For vengeance, in the shades of Hell beneath, + And among all that breathe the vital air, + Attends on those who break their plighted trust. + The soul of the deceased, although it live + Indeed no longer, yet doth still retain + A consciousness which lasts for ever, lodged + In the eternal scene of its abode, + The liquid ether. To express myself + Concisely, all that you requested me + Will I conceal, nor with my counsels aid + My brother’s folly; I to him shall show + A real friendship, though without the semblance, + If I his vicious manners can reform + And make him more religious. Therefore find + Means to escape yourselves; for I will hence + Depart in silence. First implore the gods; + To Venus sue, that she your safe return + Would suffer; and to Juno, not to change + The scheme which she hath formed, both to preserve + Your lord and you. O my departed sire, + For thee will I exert my utmost might, + That on thy honoured name no foul reproach + May ever rest. + + [_Exit_ THEONOE. + + CHOR. No impious man e’er prospered: + But fairest hopes attend an honest cause. + + HEL. O Menelaus, as to what depends + Upon the royal maid, are we secure: + But next doth it become you to propose + Some means our safety to effect. + + MEN. Now listen + To me; thou in this palace long hast dwelt, + An inmate with the servants of the king. + + HEL. Why speak you thus? for you raise hopes, as though + You could do somewhat for our common good. + + MEN. Canst thou prevail on any one of those + Who guide the harnessed steeds, to furnish us + With a swift car? + + HEL. Perhaps I might succeed + In that attempt. But how shall we escape + Who to these fields and this barbarian land + Are strangers? An impracticable thing + Is this you speak of. + + MEN. Well, but in the palace + Concealed, if with this sword the king I slay. + + HEL. His sister will not suffer this in silence + If you attempt aught ’gainst her brother’s life. + + MEN. We have no ship in which we can escape; + For that which we brought hither, by the waves + Is swallowed up. + + HEL. Now hear what I propose; + From woman’s lips if wisdom ever flow. + Will you permit a rumour of your death + To be dispersed? + + MEN. This were an evil omen: + But I, if any benefit arise + From such report, consent to be called dead + While I yet live. + + HEL. That impious tyrant’s pity + Our female choir shall move, with tresses shorn, + And chaunt funereal strains. + + MEN. What tendency + Can such a project have to our deliverance? + + HEL. I will allege that ’tis an ancient custom; + And of the monarch his permission crave, + That I on you, as if you in the sea + Had perished, may bestow a vacant tomb. + + MEN. If he consent, how can this feigned interment + Enable us to fly without a ship? + + HEL. I will command a bark to be prepared, + From whence into the bosom of the deep + Funereal trappings I may cast. + + MEN. How well + And wisely hast thou spoken! but the tomb + If he direct thee on the strand to raise, + Nought can this scheme avail. + + HEL. But I will say + ’Tis not the usage, in a Grecian realm, + With earth to cover the remains of those + Who perished in the waves. + + MEN. Thou hast again + Removed this obstacle: I then with thee + Will sail, and the funereal trappings place + In the same vessel. + + HEL. ’Tis of great importance + That you, and all those mariners who ’scaped + The shipwreck, should be present. + + MEN. If we find + A bark at anchor, with our falchions armed + In one collected band will we assail + And board it. + + HEL. To direct all this, belongs + To you; but may the prosperous breezes fill + Our sails, and guide us o’er the billowy deep. + + MEN. These vows shall be accomplished; for the gods + At length will cause my toils to cease: but whence + Wilt thou pretend thou heard’st that I was dead? + + HEL. Yourself shall be the messenger; relate + How you alone escaped his piteous doom, + A partner of the voyage with the son + Of Atreus, and the witness of his death. + + MEN. This tattered vest will testify my shipwreck. + + HEL. How seasonable was that which seemed at first + To be a grievous loss! but the misfortune + May end perhaps in bliss. + + MEN. Must I with thee + Enter the palace, or before this tomb + Sit motionless? + + HEL. Here stay: for if the king + By force should strive to tear you hence, this tomb + And your drawn sword will save you. But I’ll go + To my apartment, shear my flowing hair, + For sable weeds this snowy vest exchange, + And rend with bloody nails these livid cheeks: + For ’tis a mighty conflict, and I see + These two alternatives: if in my plots + Detected, I must die; or to my country + I shall return, and save your life. O Juno, + Thou sacred queen, who shar’st the couch of Jove, + Relieve two wretches from their toils; to thee + Our suppliant arms uplifting high t’wards Heaven + With glittering stars adorned, thy blest abode, + We sue: and thou, O Venus, who didst gain + The palm of beauty through my promised ’spousals, + Spare me, thou daughter of Dione, spare; + For thou enough hast injured me already; + Exposing not my person, but my name, + To those barbarians; suffer me to die, + If thou wilt slay me, in my native land. + Why art thou still insatiably malignant? + Why dost thou harass me by love, by fraud, + By the invention of these new deceits, + And by thy magic philtres plunge in blood + Our miserable house? If thou hadst ruled + With mildness, thou to man hadst been most grateful + Of all the gods. I speak not this at random. + + [HELEN _and_ MENELAUS _retire behind the tomb_. + +CHORUS. + + ODE. + + I. 1. + + On thee who build’st thy tuneful seat + Protected by the leafy groves, I call, + O nightingale, thy accents ever sweet + Their murmuring melancholy fall + Prolong! O come, and with thy plaintive strain + Aid me to utter my distress, + Thy woes, O Helen, let the song express, + And those of Troy now levelled with the plain + By Grecian might. From hospitable shores, + Relying on barbaric oars, + The spoiler Paris fled, + And o’er the deep to Priam’s realm with pride + Bore his imaginary bride, + Fancying that thou hadst graced his bed, + To nuptials fraught with shame by wanton Venus led. + + I. 2. + + Unnumbered Greeks, transpierced with spears, + Or crushed beneath the falling ramparts, bled: + Hence with her tresses shorn, immersed in tears + The matron wails her lonely bed, + But Nauplius, kindling near th’ Eubœan deep + Those torches, o’er our host prevailed; + Though with a single bark the traitor sailed, + He wrecked whole fleets against Caphareus’ steep, + And the Ægean coasts, the beacon seemed + A star, and through Heaven’s conclave gleamed, + Placed on the craggy height. + While flushed with conquest, from the Phrygian strand + They hastened to their native land, + Portentous source of bloody fight, + The cloud by Juno formed, beguiled their dazzled sight. + + II. 1. + + Whether the image was divine, + Drew from terrestrial particles its birth, + Or from the middle region, how define + By curious search, ye sons of earth? + Far from unravelling Heaven’s abstruse intents, + We view the world tost to and fro, + Mark strange vicissitudes of joy and woe, + Discordant and miraculous events. + Thou, Helen, art indeed the child of Jove. + The swan, thy sire, inflamed by love, + To Leda’s bosom flew: + Yet with imputed crimes malignant fame + Through Greece arraigns thy slandered name. + Of men I know not whom to trust, + But what the gods pronounce have I found ever just. + + II. 2. + + Frantic are ye who seek renown + Amid the horrors of th’ embattled field, + Who masking guilt beneath a laurel crown + With nervous arm the falchion wield, + Not slaughtered thousands can your fury sate. + If still success the judgment guide, + If bloody battle right and wrong decide, + Incessant strife must vex each rival state: + Hence from her home departs each Phrygian wife, + O Helen, when the cruel strife + Which from thy charms arose, + One conference might have closed: now myriads dwell + With Pluto in the shades of Hell, + And flames, as when Jove’s vengeance throws + The bolt, have caught her towers and finished Ilion’s woes. + +THEOCLYMENUS, CHORUS (HELEN _and_ MENELAUS _behind the tomb_). + + THEOC. Hail, O thou tomb of my illustrious sire! + For thee have I interred before my gate, + That with thy shade I might hold frequent conference, + O Proteus; Theoclymenus thy son + Thee, O my father, oft as he goes forth, + Oft as he enters these abodes, accosts. + But to the palace now convey those hounds + And nets, my servants. I full many a time + Have blamed myself, because I never punished + With death such miscreants; now I am informed + That publicly some Greek to these domains + Is come unnoticed by my guards, a spy, + Or one who means to carry Helen off + By stealth: but if I seize him, he shall die. + Methinks I find all over: for the daughter + Of Tyndarus sits no longer at the tomb, + But from these shores hath fled, and now is crossing + The billowy deep. Unbar the gates, bring forth + My coursers from the stalls, and brazen cars; + Lest through my want of vigilance the dame + Whom I would make my consort, should escape me, + Borne from this land. Yet stay; for I behold + Those we pursue still here beneath this roof, + Nor are they fled. Ho! why in sable vest + Hast thou arrayed thyself, why cast aside + Thy robes of white, and from thy graceful head + With ruthless steel thy glowing ringlets shorn, + And wherefore bathed thy cheek with recent tears? + Groan’st thou, by visions of the night apprized + Of some calamity, or hast thou heard + Within, a rumour that afflicts thy soul? + + HEL. My lord (for I already by that name + Accost you), I am utterly undone, + My former bliss is vanished, and I now + Am nothing. + + THEOC. Art thou plunged into distress + So irretrievable? what cruel fate + Hath overtaken thee? + + HEL. My Menelaus, + (Ah, how shall I express myself?) is dead. + + THEOC. Although I must not triumph in th’ event + Thou speak’st of, yet to me ’tis most auspicious. + How know’st thou? Did Theonoe tell thee this? + + HEL. She and this mariner, who when he perished + Was present, both concur in the same tale. + + THEOC. Is there a man arrived, who for the truth + Of that account can vouch? + + HEL. He is arrived: + And would to Heaven that such auspicious fortune + As I could wish attended him. + + THEOC. Who is he? + Where is he? I would know the real fact. + + HEL. ’Tis he who stupefied with sorrow sits + Upon the tomb. + + THEOC. In what unseemly garb + Is he arrayed, O Phœbus! + + HEL. In that dress, + Ah me! methinks my husband I behold. + + THEOC. But in what country was the stranger born, + And whence did he come hither? + + HEL. He’s a Greek, + One of those Greeks who with my husband sailed. + + THEOC. How doth he say that Menelaus died? + + HEL. Most wretchedly, engulfed amid the waves. + + THEOC. Where? as he passed o’er the barbarian seas? + + HEL. Dashed on the rocks of Libya, which affords + No haven. + + THEOC. But whence happened it, that he + This partner of his voyage did not perish? + + HEL. The worthless are more prosperous than the brave. + + THEOC. Where left he the wrecked fragments of his ship + When he came hither? + + HEL. There, where would to Heaven + Perdition had o’ertaken him, and spared + The life of Menelaus. + + THEOC. He, it seems, + Is then no more: but in what bark arrived + This messenger? + + HEL. Some sailors, as he says, + By chance passed by, and snatched him from the waves. + + THEOC. But where’s that hateful pest which in thy stead + Was sent to Ilion? + + HEL. Speak you of a cloud, + Resembling me? it mounted to the skies. + + THEOC. O Priam, for how frivolous a cause + Thou with thy Troy didst perish! + + HEL. In their woes + I too have been involved. + + THEOC. But did he leave + Thy husband’s corse unburied, or strew dust + O’er his remains? + + HEL. He left them uninterred, + Ah, wretched me! + + THEOC. And didst thou for this cause + Sever the ringlets of thy auburn hair? + + HEL. Still is he dear, lodged in this faithful breast + + THEOC. Hast thou sufficient reason then to weep + For this calamity? + + HEL. Could you bear lightly + Your sister’s death? + + THEOC. No surely. But what means + Thy still residing at this marble tomb? + + HEL. Why do you harass me with taunting words, + And why disturb the dead? + + THEOC. Because, still constant + To thy first husband, from my love thou fliest. + + HEL. But I will fly no longer: haste, begin + The nuptial rite. + + THEOC. ’Twas long ere thou didst come + To this: but I such conduct must applaud. + + HEL. Know you then how to act? let us forget + All that has passed. + + THEOC. Upon what terms? with kindness + Should kindness be repaid. + + HEL. Let us conclude + The peace, and O be reconciled. + + THEOC. All strife + With thee I to the winds of heaven consign. + + HEL. Now, since you are my friend, I by those knees + Conjure you. + + THEOC. With what object in thy view, + To me an earnest suppliant dost thou bend? + + HEL. I my departed husband would inter. + + THEOC. What tomb can be bestowed upon the absent + Wouldst thou inter his shade? + + HEL. There is a custom + Among the Greeks established, that the man + Who in the ocean perishes—— + + THEOC. What is it? + For in such matters Pelops’ race are wise. + + HEL. To bury in their stead an empty vest. + + THEOC. Perform funereal rites, and heap the tomb + On any ground thou wilt. + + HEL. We in this fashion + Bury not the drowned mariner. + + THEOC. How then? + I am a stranger to the Grecian customs. + + HEL. Each pious gift due to our breathless friends + We cast into the sea. + + THEOC. On the deceased + What presents for thy sake can I bestow? + + HEL. I know not: for in offices like these + Am I unpractised, having erst been happy. + + THEOC. An acceptable message have you brought, + O stranger. + + MEN. Most ungrateful to myself + And the deceased. + + THEOC. What funereal rites on those + Ocean hath swallowed up, do ye bestow? + + MEN. Such honours as each individual’s wealth + Enables us to pay him. + + THEOC. Name the cost, + And for her sake receive whate’er you will. + + MEN. Blood is our first libation to the dead. + + THEOC. What blood? inform me, for with your instructions + I will comply. + + MEN. Determine that thyself, + For whatsoe’er thou giv’st will be sufficient. + + THEOC. The customary victims ’mong barbarians + Are either horse or bull. + + MEN. Whate’er thou giv’st, + Let it be somewhat princely. + + THEOC. My rich herds + With these are amply furnished. + + MEN. And the bier + Without the corse is borne in solemn state. + + THEOC. It shall: but what is there beside which custom + Requires to grace the funeral. + + MEN. Brazen arms: + For war was what he loved. + + THEOC. We will bestow + Such presents as are worthy of the race + Of mighty Pelops. + + MEN. And those budding flowers + Th’ exuberant soil produces. + + THEOC. But say, how + And in what manner ye these offerings plunge + Into the ocean. + + MEN. We must have a bark + And mariners to ply the oars. + + THEOC. How far + Will they launch forth the vessel from the strand? + + MEN. So far as from the shore thou scarce wilt see + The keel divide the waves. + + THEOC. But why doth Greece + Observe this usage? + + MEN. ’Lest the rising billows + Cast back to land th’ ablutions. + + THEOC. Ye shall have + A swift Phœnician vessel. + + MEN. This were kind, + And no small favour shown to Menelaus. + + THEOC. Without her presence, cannot you perform + These rites alone? + + MEN. Such task or to a mother, + Or wife, or child, belongs. + + THEOC. ’Tis then her duty, + You say, to bury her departed lord? + + MEN. Sure, piety instructs us not to rob + The dead of their accustomed dues. + + THEOC. Enough: + On me it is incumbent to promote + Such virtue in my consort. I will enter + The palace, and from thence for the deceased + Bring forth rich ornaments; with empty hands + You from this region will not I send forth, + That you may execute what she desires. + But having brought me acceptable tidings, + Instead of these vile weeds shall you receive + A decent garb and food, that to your country + You may return: for clearly I perceive + That you are wretched now. But torture not + Thy bosom with unprofitable cares, + O hapless woman, for thy Menelaus + Is now no more, nor can the dead revive. + + MEN. Thee it behoves, O blooming dame, to love + Thy present husband, and to lay aside + The fond remembrance of thy breathless lord; + For such behaviour suits thy fortunes best. + But if to Greece with safety I return, + That infamy which erst pursued thy name + I’ll cause to cease, if thou acquit thyself + Of these great duties like a virtuous consort. + + HEL. I will; nor shall my husband e’er have cause + To blame me: you too, who are here, shall witness + The truth of my assertions. But within + Go lave your wearied limbs, O wretched man, + And change your habit; for without delay + To you will I become a benefactress. + Hence too with greater zeal will you perform + The rites my dearest Menelaus claims, + If all due honours you from me receive. + + [_Exeunt_ THEOCLYMENUS, HELEN, _and_ MENELAUS. + +CHORUS. + + ODE. + + I. 1. + + O’er mountains erst with hasty tread + Did the celestial mother stray, + Nor stop where branching thickets spread, + Where rapid torrents crossed her way, + Or on the margin of the billowy deep; + Her daughter whom we dread to name + She wept, while hailing that majestic dame, + Cymbals of Bacchus from the craggy steep + Sent forth their clear and piercing sound, + Her car the harnessed dragons drew; + Following the nymph torn from her virgin crew. + Amidst her maidens swift of foot were found + Diana skilled the bow to wield, + Minerva, who in glittering state + Brandished the spear and raised her Gorgon shield; + But Jove looked down from Heaven t’ award another fate. + + I. 2. + + Soon as the mother’s toils were o’er, + When she had finished her career, + And sought the ravished maid no more, + To caves where drifted snows appear, + By Ida’s nymphs frequented, did she pass, + And threw herself in sorrow lost, + On rocks and herbage crusted o’er with frost, + Despoiled the wasted champaign of its grass, + Rendered the peasant’s tillage vain, + Consuming a dispeopled land + With meagre famine; Spring at her command + Denied the flocks that sickened on the plain + The leafy tendrils of the vine; + Whole cities died, no victims bled, + No frankincense perfumed Heaven’s vacant shrine; + Nor burst the current from the Spring’s obstructed head. + + II. 1. + + Then ceased the banquet, wont to charm + Both gods above and men below: + The mother’s anger to disarm, + And mitigate the stings of woe, + Till in these words Jove uttered his behests: + “Let each benignant grace attend + Sweet music’s sympathizing aid to lend, + And drive corrosive grief from Ceres’ breast + Indignant for her ravished child: + Now, O ye Muses, with the lyre + Join the shrill hymns of your assembled choir, + The brazen trumpet fill with accents wild, + And beat the rattling drums amain.” + Then first of the immortal band, + Venus with lovely smile approved the strain, + And raised the deep-toned flute in her enchanting hand. + + II. 2. + + The laws reproved such foul desire, + Yet ’gainst religion didst thou wed; + Thy uncle caught love’s baleful fire, + And rushed to thy incestuous bed. + Thee shall the mighty mother’s wrath confound, + Because, through thee, before her shrine + No victims slain appease the powers divine. + Great virtue have hinds’ hides, and ivy wound + Upon a consecrated rod; + And youths, with virgins in a ring, + When high from earth with matchless force they spring, + Loose streams their hair, they celebrate that god + The Bacchanalian votaries own, + And waste in dance the sleepless night. + But thou, confiding in thy charms alone, + Forgett’st the moon that shines with more transcendent light. + +HELEN, CHORUS. + + HEL. Within the palace, O my friends, we prosper + For Proteus’ royal daughter, in our schemes + Conspiring when her brother questioned her + About my lord, no information gave + Of his arrival: to my interests true + She said, that cold in death he views no longer + The radiant sun. But now my lord hath seized + A vengeful falchion, in that mail designed + To have been plunged beneath the deep arrayed, + With nervous arm he lifts an orbed shield, + In his right hand protended gleams the spear, + As if with me he was prepared to pay + To the deceased due homage. Furnished thus + With brazen arms, he’s ready for the battle, + And numberless barbarians will subdue + Unaided, soon as we the ship ascend. + Exchanging those unseemly weeds which clothe + The shipwrecked mariner, in splendid robes + Have I arrayed him, from transparent springs + The laver filled, and bathed his wearied limbs + But I must now be silent, for the man + Who fancies I am ready to become + His consort, leaves the palace. O my friends, + In your attachment too I place my trust, + Restrain your tongues, for we, when saved ourselves, + If possible will save you from this thraldom. + +THEOCLYMENUS, HELEN, MENELAUS, CHORUS. + + THEOC. Go forth, in such procession as the stranger + Directs you, O my servants, and convey + These gifts funereal to the briny deep. + But if thou disapprove not what I say, + Do thou, O Helen, yield to my persuasions, + And here remain. For whether thou attend, + Or art not present at the obsequies + Of thy departed husband, thou to him + Wilt show an equal reverence. Much I dread + Lest hurried on by wild desire thou plunge + Into the foaming billows, for the sake + Of him on whom thou doat’st, thy former lord, + Since thou his doom immoderately bewail’st + Though he be lost, and never can return. + + HEL. O my illustrious husband, I am bound + To pay due honours to the man whom first + I wedded, of our ancient nuptial joys + A memory still retaining, for so well + I loved my lord that I could even die + With him. But what advantage would result + To the deceased, should I lay down my life? + Yet let me go myself, and to his shade + Perform each solemn rite. But may the gods, + On you, and on the stranger who assists me + In this my pious task, with liberal hand + Confer the gifts I wish. But you in me + Shall such a consort to your palace bear + As you deserve, to recompense your kindness + To me and Menelaus. Such events + In some degree are measured by the will + Of Fortune: but give orders for a ship + To be prepared, these trappings to convey, + So shall your purposed bounty be complete. + + THEOC. [_to one of his Attendants._] + Go thou, and furnish them a Tyrian bark + Of fifty oars, with skilful sailors manned. + + HEL. But may not he who decorates the tomb + Govern the ship? + + THEOC. My sailors must to him + Yield an implicit deference. + + HEL. This injunction + Repeat, that they may clearly understand it. + + THEOC. A second time, will I, and yet a third, + Issue this self-same mandate, if to thee + This can give pleasure. + + HEL. May the gods confer + Blessings on you, and prosper my designs! + + THEO. Waste not thy bloom with unavailing tears. + + HEL. To you this day my gratitude will prove. + + THEOC. All these attentions to the dead are nought + But unavailing toil. + + HEL. My pious care + Not to those only whom the silent grave + Contains, but to the living too extends. + + THEOC. In me thou mayst expect to find a husband + Who yields not to the Spartan Menelaus. + + HEL. I censure not your conduct, but bewail + My own harsh destiny. + + THEOC. Bestow thy love + On me, and prosperous fortunes shall return. + + HEL. It is a lesson I have practised long, + To love my friends. + + THEOC. Shall I my navy launch, + To join in these funereal rites? + + HEL. Dread lord, + Pay not unseemly homage to your vassals. + + THEOC. Well! I each sacred usage will allow + Practised by Pelops’ race, for my abodes + Are undefiled with blood: thy Menelaus + In Ægypt died not. But let some one haste + And bid the nobles bear into my house + The bridal gifts: for the whole earth is bound + To celebrate in one consenting hymn + My blest espousals with the lovely Helen. + But go, embark upon the briny main, + O stranger, and as soon as ye have paid + All decent homage to her former lord + Bring back my consort hither: that with me + When you have feasted at our nuptial rite + You to your native mansion may return, + Or here continue in a happy state. + + [_Exit_ THEOCLYMENUS. + + MEN. O Jove, thou mighty father, who art called + A god supreme in wisdom, from thy heaven + Look down, and save us from our woes: delay not + To aid us: for we drag the galling yoke + Of sorrow and mischance: if with thy finger + Thou do but touch us, we shall soon attain + The fortune which we wish for, since the toils + We have endured already are sufficient. + Ye gods, I now invoke you, from my mouth + So shall ye hear full many joyful accents + Mixed with these bitter plaints: for I deserve not + To be for ever wretched; but to tread + At length secure. O grant me this one favour, + And make my future life completely blest. + + [_Exeunt_ MENELAUS _and_ HELEN. + +CHORUS. + + ODE. + + I. 1. + + Swift bark of Sidon, by whose dashing oars + Divided oft, the frothy billows rise, + Propitious be thy voyage from these shores: + In thy train the dolphins play, + O’er the deep thou lead’st the way, + While motionless its placid surface lies. + Soon as Serenity the fair, + That azure daughter of the main, + Shall in this animating strain + Have spoken: “To the gentle breeze of air + Expand each undulating sail, + Row briskly on before the gale, + Ye mariners, in Perseus’ ancient seat + Till Helen rest her wearied feet.” + + I. 2. + + Those sacred nymphs shall welcome thy return + Who guard the portals of Minerva’s fane + Or speed the current from its murmuring urn: + Choral dances of delight + That prolong the jocund night, + At Hyacinthus’ banquet shalt thou join, + Fair stripling, whom with luckless hand + Unwitting did Apollo slay + At games that crowned the festive day, + Hurling his quoit on the Laconian strand; + To him Jove’s son due honours paid: + At Sparta too, that lovely maid + Shalt thou behold, whom there thou left’st behind, + Still to celibacy consigned. + + II. 1. + + O might we cleave the air, like Libyan cranes, + Who fly in ranks th’ impending wintry storm; + When their shrill leader bids them quit the plains, + They the veteran’s voice obey, + O’er rich harvests wing their way, + Or where parched wastes th’ unfruitful scene deform. + With lengthened neck, ye feathered race + Who skim the clouds in social band, + Where the seven Pleiades expand + Their radiance, and Orion heaves his mace, + This joyous embassy convey + As near Eurotas’ banks ye stray; + That Menelaus to his subject land + Victorious comes from Phrygia’s strand. + + II. 2. + + Borne in your chariot down th’ ethereal height, + At length, ye sons of Tyndarus, appear, + While vibrates o’er your heads the starry light: + Habitants of heaven above, + Now exert fraternal love, + If ever Helen to your souls was dear, + A calm o’er th’ azure ocean spread, + Bridle the tempests of the main, + Propitious gales from Jove obtain, + Your sister snatch from the barbarian’s bed: + Commenced on Ida’s hill, that strife, + Embittered with reproach her life, + Although she never viewed proud Ilion’s tower + Reared by Apollo’s matchless power. + +THEOCLYMENUS, MESSENGER, CHORUS. + + MES. O king, I have discovered in the palace, + Events most inauspicious: what fresh woes + Is it my doleful office to relate! + + THEOC. Say what hath happened? + + MES. Seek another wife, + For Helen hath departed from this realm. + + THEOC. Borne through the air on wings, or with swift foot + Treading the ground? + + MES. Her o’er the briny main + From Ægypt’s shores, hath Menelaus wafted, + Who came in person with a feigned account + Of his own death. + + THEOC. O dreadful tale! what ship + From these domains conveys her? thou relat’st + Tidings the most incredible. + + MES. The same + You to that stranger gave, and in one word + To tell you all, he carries off your sailors. + + THEOC. How is that possible? I wish to know: + For such an apprehension never entered + My soul, as that one man could have subdued + The numerous band of mariners, with whom + Thou wert sent forth. + + MES. When from the royal mansion + Jove’s daughter to the shore was borne, she trod + With delicate and artful step, pretending + To wail her husband’s loss, though he was present, + And yet alive. But when we reached the haven, + Sidonia’s largest vessel we hauled forth, + Furnished with benches, and with fifty oars; + But a fresh series of incessant toil + Followed this toil; for while one fixed the mast, + Another ranged the oars, and with his hand + The signal gave, the sails were bound together, + Then was the rudder fastened to the stern + With thongs, cast forth: while they observed us busied + In such laborious task, the Grecian comrades + Of Menelaus to the shore advanced, + Clad in their shipwrecked vestments. Though their form + Was graceful, yet their visages were squalid: + But Atreus’ son, beholding their approach, + Under the semblance of a grief that masked + His treacherous purpose, in these words addressed them: + “How, O ye wretched sailors, from what bark + Of Greece that hath been wrecked upon this coast + Are ye come hither? will ye join with us + In the funereal rites of Menelaus, + Whom Tyndarus’s daughter, to an empty tomb + Consigns, though absent?” Simulated tears + They shed, and went aboard the ship, conveying + The presents to be cast into the sea + For Menelaus. But to us these things + Appeared suspicious, and we made remarks + Among ourselves upon the numerous band + Of our intruding passengers; but checked + Our tongues from speaking openly, through deference + To your commands. For when you to that stranger + Trusted the guidance of the ship, you caused + This dire confusion. All beside, with ease + Had we now lodged aboard, but could not force + The sturdy bull t’ advance; he bellowing rolled + His eyes around, bending his back and low’ring + Betwixt his horns, nor dared we to approach + And handle him. But Helen’s husband cried: + “O ye who laid Troy waste, will ye forget + To act like Greeks? why scruple ye to seize + And on your youthful shoulders heave the beast + Up to the rising prow, a welcome victim + To the deceased?” His falchion, as he spoke, + The warrior drew. His summons they obeyed, + Seized the stout bull, and carried him aboard: + But Menelaus stroked the horse’s neck + And face, and with this gentle usage led him + Into the bark. At length when all its freight + The vessel had received, with graceful foot + Helen, the steps ascending, took her seat + On the mid deck; and Menelaus near her, + E’en he who they pretended was no more. + But some on the right side, and on the left + Others in equal numbers, man to man + Opposed, their station took, their swords concealing + Beneath their garments. We distinctly heard + The clamorous sailors animate each other + To undertake the voyage. But from land + When a convenient distance we had steered, + The pilot asked this question: “Shall we sail, + O stranger, any farther from the coast, + Or is this right? for ’tis my task to guide + The vessel.” He replied: “Enough for me.” + Then seized with his right hand the falchion, leaped + Upon the prow, and standing o’er the bull + The victim (without mentioning the name + Of any chief deceased; but as he drove + The weapon through his neck) thus prayed: “O Neptune, + Who in the ocean dwell’st, and ye chaste daughters + Of Nereus, to the Nauplian shore convey + Me and my consort, from this hostile land, + In safety.” But a crimson tide of blood, + Auspicious to the stranger, stained the waves; + And some exclaimed: “There’s treachery in this voyage, + Let us sail homewards, issue thy commands, + And turn the rudder.” But the son of Atreus, + Who had just slain the bull, to his companions + Called loudly: “Why delay, O ye the flower + Of Greece, to smite, to slaughter those barbarians, + And cast them from the ship into the waves?” + But to your sailors our commander spoke + A different language: “Will not some of you + Tear up a plank, or with a shattered bench, + Or ponderous oar, upon the bleeding heads + Of those audacious foreigners our foes, + Impress the ghastly wound?” But on their feet + All now stood up; our hands with nautic poles + Were armed, and theirs with swords: a tide of slaughter + Ran down the ship. But Helen from the poop + The Greeks encouraged; “Where is the renown + Ye gained at Troy? display ’gainst these barbarians + The same undaunted prowess.” In their haste + Full many fell, some rose again, the rest + Might you have seen stretched motionless in death. + But Menelaus, sheathed in glittering mail, + Wherever his confederates he descried + Hard pressed, rushed thither with his lifted sword, + Driving us headlong from the lofty deck + Into the waves, and forced your mariners + To quit their oars. But the victorious king + Now seized the rudder, and to Greece declared + He would convey the ship: they hoisted up + The stately mast: propitious breezes came; + They left the land: but I from death escaping, + Let myself gently down into the waves + Borne on the cordage which sustains the anchor; + My strength began to fail, when some kind hand + Threw forth a rope, and brought me safe ashore, + That I to you these tidings might convey. + There’s nought more beneficial to mankind + Than wise distrust. + + CHOR. I never could have thought + That Menelaus who was here, O king, + Could have imposed so grossly or on you + Or upon us. + + THEOC. Wretch that I am, ensnared + By woman’s treacherous arts! the lovely bride + I hoped for, hath escaped me. If the ship + Could be o’ertaken by our swift pursuit, + My wrongs would urge me with vindictive hand + To seize the strangers. But I now will punish + That sister who betrayed me; in my house + Who when she saw the Spartan Menelaus, + Informed me not: she never shall deceive + Another man by her prophetic voice. + + CHOR. Ho! whither, O my sovereign, would you go, + And for what bloody purpose? + + THEOC. Where the voice + Of rigid justice summons me. Retire, + And stand aloof. + + CHOR. Yet will not I let loose + Your garment; for you hasten to commit + A deed most mischievous. + + THEOC. Wouldst thou, a slave, + Govern thy lord? + + CHOR. Here reason’s on my side. + + THEOC. That shall not I allow, if thou refuse + To quit thy hold. + + CHOR. I will not then release you. + + THEOC. To slay that worst of sisters. + + CHOR. That most pious. + + THEOC. Her who betrayed me. + + CHOR. Glorious was the fraud + That caused so just a deed. + + THEOC. When she bestowed + My consort on another. + + CHOR. On the man + Who had a better claim—— + + THEOC. But who is lord + Of what belongs to me? + + CHOR. Who from her sire + Received her. + + THEOC. She by Fortune was bestowed + On me. + + CHOR. But ta’en away again by Fate. + + THEOC. Thou hast no right to judge of my affairs. + + CHOR. If I but speak to give you better counsels. + + THEOC. I am thy subject then, and not thy king. + + CHOR. For having acted piously, your sister + I vindicate. + + THEOC. Thou seem’st to wish for death. + + CHOR. Kill me. Your sister you with my consent + Shall never slay; I rather would yield up + My life on her behalf. It is most glorious + To generous servants for their lords to die. + +CASTOR _and_ POLLUX, THEOCLYMENUS, CHORUS. + + CAS. _and_ POL. Restrain that ire that hurries thee away + Beyond the bounds of reason, O thou king + Of Ægypt’s realm; and listen to the voice + Of us twin sons of Jove, whom Leda bore + Together with that Helen who is fled + From thy abodes. Thou rashly hast indulged + Thine anger, for the loss of her whom Fate + Ne’er destined to thy bed. Nor hath thy sister + Theonoe, from th’ immortal Nereid sprung, + To thee done any injury; she reveres + The gods, and her great father’s just behests. + For till the present hour, was it ordained + That Helen in thy palace should reside: + But when Troy’s walls were from their bases torn, + And she had to the rival goddesses + Furnished her name, no longer was it fit + That she should for thy nuptials be detained, + But to her ancient home return, and dwell + With her first husband. In thy sister’s breast + Forbear to plunge the sword, and be convinced + That she in this affair hath acted wisely. + We long ere this our sister had preserved, + Since Jove hath made us gods, but were too weak + At once to combat the behests of Fate, + And the immortal powers, who had ordained + That these events should happen. This to thee, + O Theoclymenus, I speak. These words + Next to my lovely sister, I address; + Sail with your husband, for a prosperous breeze + Your voyage shall attend. We your protectors + And your twin brothers, on our coursers borne + Over the waves, will guide you to your country, + But after you have finished life’s career, + You shall be called a goddess, shall partake + With us the rich oblations, and receive + The gifts of men: for thus hath Jove decreed. + But where the son of Maia placed you first, + When he had borne you from the Spartan realm, + And formed by stealth from the aërial mansions + An image of your person, to prevent + Paris from wedding you, there is an isle + Near the Athenian realm, which men shall call + Helen in future times, because that spot + Received you, when in secrecy conveyed + From Sparta. The Heavens also have ordained + The wanderer Menelaus shall reside + Among the happy islands. For the gods + To those of nobler minds no hatred bear; + At their command though grievous toil await + The countless multitude. + + THEOC. Ye sons of Jove + And Leda, I the contest will decline + Which I at first so violently urged, + Hoping your lovely sister to obtain, + And my own sister’s life resolve to spare: + Let Helen to her native shores return, + If ’tis the will of Heaven: but be assured, + The same high blood ye spring from with the best + And chastest sister: hail then, for the sake + Of Helen with a lofty soul endued, + Such as in female bosoms seldom dwells. + + CHOR. A thousand shapes our varying fates assume + The gods perform what least we could expect, + And oft the things for which we fondly hoped + Come not to pass; but Heaven still finds a clue + To guide our steps through life’s perplexing maze, + And thus doth this important business end. + + + + +ANDROMACHE. + + +PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. + + ANDROMACHE. + ATTENDANT. + CHORUS OF PHTHIAN WOMEN. + HERMIONE. + MENELAUS. + MOLOSSUS. + PELEUS. + NURSE OF HERMIONE. + ORESTES. + MESSENGER. + THETIS. + + +SCENE.—THE VESTIBULE OF THETIS’ TEMPLE BETWEEN PHTHIA AND PHARSALIA IN +THESSALY. + +ANDROMACHE. + + O Thebes, thou pride of Asia, from whose gate + I came resplendent with a plenteous dower, + To Priam’s regal house, the fruitful wife + Of Hector: his Andromache was erst + An envied name: but now am I more wretched + Than any woman, or already born, + Or to be born hereafter; for I saw + My husband Hector by Achilles slain, + And that unhappy son whom to my lord + I bore, Astyanax, from Troy’s high towers + Thrown headlong; when our foes had sacked the city, + Myself descended from a noble line + Of freeborn warriors, reached the Grecian coast, + On Neoptolemus that island prince + For the reward of his victorious arms + Bestowed: selected from the Phrygian spoils. + ’Twixt Phthia and Pharsalia, in these fields, + I dwell, where Thetis from the haunts of men + Retreating, with her Peleus erst abode. + By Thessaly’s inhabitants, this spot + Is from th’ auspicious nuptials of that goddess + Called Thetidæum: here Achilles’ son + Residing, suffers Peleus still to rule + Pharsalia’s land, nor will assume the sceptre + While lives his aged grandsire. In these walls + A son, who to th’ embraces of my lord + Achilles’ offspring, owes his birth, I bore, + And though I had been wretched, a fond hope + Still cherished, that while yet the boy was safe + I some protection and relief might find + In my calamities; but since my lord + (Spurning my servile couch) that Spartan dame + Hermione espoused, with ruthless hate + By her am I pursued; for she pretends + That I, by drugs endued with magic power, + Administered in secret, make her barren + And odious to her lord, because I wish + To occupy this mansion in her stead, + And forcibly to drive her from his couch, + To which, at first I with reluctance came, + But now have left it: mighty Jove can witness + That I became the partner of his bed + Against my own consent. But she remains + Deaf to conviction, and attempts to slay me: + In this design her father Menelaus + Assists his daughter, he is now within, + And on such errand left the Spartan realm: + Fearing his rage, I near the palace take + My seat, in Thetis’ temple, that the goddess + From death may save me; for both Peleus’ self, + And the descendants of that monarch, hold + This structure reared in memory of his wedlock + With the fair Nereid, in religious awe. + But hence, in secret, trembling for his life, + My only child have I conveyed away, + Because his noble father is not present + To aid me, and avails not now to guard + His son, while absent in the Delphic land, + To expiate there the rage with which he sought + The Pythian tripod, and from Phœbus claimed + A reparation for his father’s death. + If haply he can deprecate the curses + Attendant on his past misdeeds, and make + The god propitious to his future days. + +FEMALE ATTENDANT, ANDROMACHE. + + ATT. My queen, for still I scruple not to use + The same respectful title which I gave you + When we in Ilion dwelt; you and your lord + While he was living, shared my duteous love, + And now I with important tidings fraught + To you am come, trembling indeed lest one + Of our new rulers overhear the tale, + Yet greatly pitying your disastrous fate: + For Menelaus and his daughter form + Dire plots against you; of these foes beware. + + AND. O my dear fellow-servant (for thou shar’st + Her bondage who was erst thy queen, but now + Is wretched), ah! what mean they? what fresh schemes + Have they devised to take away my life, + Who am by woes encompassed? + + ATT. They intend, + O miserable dame, to kill your son, + Whom privately you from this house conveyed. + + AND. Are they informed I sent the child away? + Ah me! who told them? in what utter ruin + Am I involved! + + ATT. I know not; but thus much + Of their designs I heard; in quest of him + Is Menelaus from these doors gone forth. + + AND. Then am I lost indeed: for, O my child, + These two relentless vultures mean to seize thee, + And take away thy life, while he who bears + A father’s name, at Delphi still remains. + + ATT. You had not fared so ill, I am convinced, + If he were present, but now every friend + Deserts you. + + AND. Is there not a rumour spread + Of Peleus’ coming? + + ATT. He, though he were here, + Is grown too old to aid you. + + AND. More than once + I sent to him. + + ATT. Suppose you that he heeds + None of your messengers? + + AND. What means this question? + Wilt thou accept such office? + + ATT. What pretext + To colour my long absence from this house + Shall I allege? + + AND. Full many are the schemes + Which thou, who art a woman, can devise. + + ATT. ’Twere dangerous; for Hermione is watchful. + + AND. Dost thou perceive the danger, and renounce + Thy friends in their distress? + + ATT. Not thus: forbear + To brand me with so infamous a charge: + I go; for of small value is the life + (Whate’er befall me) of a female slave. + + [_Exit_ ATTENDANT. + + AND. Proceed: meanwhile I to the conscious air + Those plaints and bitter wailings will repeat, + On which I ever dwell. Unhappy women + Find comfort in perpetually talking + Of what they suffer. But my groans arise + Not from one ill, but many ills: the walls + Of my loved country razed, my Hector slain, + And that hard fortune, in whose yoke bound fast, + Thus am I fallen into th’ unseemly state + Of servitude. We never ought to call + Frail mortals happy, at their latest hour + Till we behold them to the shades descend. + +ELEGY. + + In Helen sure, to Troy’s imperial towers + Young Paris wafted no engaging bride, + But when he led her to those nuptial bowers, + Some fiend infernal crossed the billowy tide. + + With brandished javelin and devouring flame, + For her the Grecian warriors to thy shore, + O Ilion, in a thousand vessels came, + And drenched thy smould’ring battlements with gore. + + Around the walls, my Hector, once thy boast, + Fixed to his car, was by Achilles borne, + And from my chamber hurried to the coast + I veiled my head in servitude forlorn. + + Much wept these streaming eyes, when in the dust + My city, palace, husband, prostrate lay. + Subject to fierce Hermione’s disgust, + Why should I still behold the hated day? + + Harassed with insults from that haughty dame, + Round Thetis’ bust my suppliant arms I fling, + And here with gushing tears bewail my shame, + As from the rock bursts forth the living spring. + +CHORUS, ANDROMACHE. + +CHORUS. + + ODE. + + I. 1. + + O thou, who seated in this holy space, + Hast Thetis’ temple thy asylum made, + Though Phthia gave me birth, to aid + Thee, hapless dame of Asiatic race, + I hither come; would I from direful harms + Could guard, could heal the strife + ’Twixt thee and that indignant wife + Hermione, whom ruthless discord arms + To punish thee the rival of her charms, + A captive, to the genial bed, + Who by Achilles’ son wert led. + + I. 2. + + Aware of fate, th’ impending evil weigh, + A helpless Phrygian nymph, thou striv’st in vain + ’Gainst her of Sparta’s proud domain: + Cease, to this sea-born goddess, cease to pray, + And at her blazing shrine no longer stay: + For how can it avail + To thee with hopeless sorrow pale + To suffer all thy beauties to decay, + Because thy rulers with oppression sway? + Thou to superior might must bend. + Why, feeble as thou art, contend? + + II. 1. + + Yet hasten from the Nereid’s lofty seat, + Consider that thou tread’st a foreign plain, + And that these hostile walls detain + In strictest bondage thy reluctant feet, + Here none of all those friends, that numerous band, + Who shared thy greatness, is at hand, + To cheer thee in these days of shame, + O wretched, wretched dame. + + II. 2. + + A miserable matron thou art come + From Troy to our abodes, unwilling guest; + Though mine the sympathizing breast, + Yet I through reverence to our lords am dumb, + Lest she, who springs from Helen, child of Jove, + Should be a witness of that love + Which I to thee whose griefs I share, + Impelled by pity bear. + +HERMIONE, ANDROMACHE, CHORUS. + + HER. The gorgeous ornaments of gold, these brows + Encircling, and the tissued robes I wear, + I from Achilles’, or from Peleus’ stores, + As chosen presents when I hither came, + Received not, but from Sparta’s realm, these gifts + My father Menelaus hath bestowed + With a large dower, that I might freely speak + Such is the answer which to you I make, + O Phthian dames. But thou, who art a slave + And captive, wouldst in these abodes usurp + Dominion, and expel me; to my lord + Thy drugs have made me odious, hence ensues + My barrenness: the Asiatic dames, + For these abhorred devices are renowned; + But thee will I subdue, nor shall this dome + Of the immortal Nereid, nor her altar + Or temple save thee from impending death; + If either man or god should be disposed + To rescue thee, ’twere fit, that to atone + For the proud thoughts thou in thy happier days + Didst nourish, thou shouldst tremble, at my knees + Fall low, and sweep the pavement of my house, + Sprinkling the waters from a golden urn. + Know where thou art: no Hector governs here, + No Phrygian Priam doth this sceptre wield; + This is no Chrysa, but a Grecian city. + Yet thou, O wretched woman, art arrived + At such a pitch of madness, that thou dar’st + To sleep e’en with the son of him who slew + Thy husband, and a brood of children bear + To him whose hands yet reek with Phrygian gore, + Such is the whole abhorred barbarian race; + The father with his daughter, the vile son + With his own mother, with her brother too + The sister, sins, friends by their dearest friends + Are murdered; deeds like these no wholesome law + Prohibits: introduce not among us + Such crimes, for ’tis unseemly that one man + Possess two women; the fond youth who seeks + Domestic harmony, confines his love + To one fair partner of the genial bed. + + CHOR. The female sex are envious, and pursue + With an incessant hatred those who share + Their nuptial joys. + + AND. Alas! impetuous youth + Proves baleful to mankind, and there are none + Who act with justice in their blooming years. + But what I dread is this, lest slavery curb + My tongue, though I have many truths to utter: + In this dispute with you, if I prevail, + That very triumph may become my bane: + For those of haughty spirits ill endure + The most prevailing arguments when urged + By their inferiors. Yet my better cause + I will not thus betray. Say, youthful princess, + What reasons of irrefragable force + Enable me to drive you from the couch + Of your own lawful husband? to the Phrygians + Is Sparta grown inferior, and hath fortune + On us conferred the palm? Do you behold me + Still free? elate with youth, a vigorous frame, + The wide extent of empire I possess, + And number of my friends, am I desirous + To occupy these mansions in your stead, + That in your stead I might bring forth a race + Of slaves, th’ appendages of my distress? + Will any one endure (if you produce + No children) that my sons should be the kings + Of Phthia?—the Greeks love me for the sake + Of Hector, I too was forsooth obscure, + And not a queen, in Troy. Your husband’s hate, + Not from my drugs, but from your soul, unsuited + For social converse, springs: there is a philtre + To gain his love. Not beauty, but the virtues, + O woman, to the partners of our bed + Afford delight. But if it sting your pride + That Sparta’s a vast city, while you treat + Scyros with scorn, amidst the poor, display + Your riches, and of Menelaus speak + As greater than Achilles; hence your lord + Abhors you. For a woman, though bestowed + On a vile mate, should learn to yield, nor strive + For the pre-eminence. In Thrace o’erspread + With snow, if you were wedded to a king, + Who to his bed takes many various dames, + Would you have slain them? you would cast disgrace + On your whole sex by such unsated lust; + Base were the deed: for though our souls are warmed + With more intense desires than those of men + We modestly conceal them. For thy sake + I, O my dearest Hector, loved the objects + Of thy affections, whene’er Venus’ wiles + Caused thee to err, and at my breast full oft + Nourished thy spurious children, that in nought + Thy joys I might embitter: acting thus + I won him by my virtues. But you tremble + E’en if the drops of Heaven’s transparent dew + Rest on your husband. Strive not to transcend + Your mother in a wild excess of love, + O woman. For the children, if endued + With reason, such examples should avoid + Of those who bore them, as corrupt the soul. + + CHOR. As far as possible, O queen, comply + With my advice, and in mild terms accost her. + + HER. What mean’st thou by this arrogance of speech, + This vain debate, as if thou still wert chaste, + And I had strayed from virtue’s path? + + AND. The words + You have been using, now at least are void + Of modesty. + + HER. O woman, may this breast + Harbour no soul like thine. + + AND. Though bashful youth + Glow on your cheek, indecent is your language. + + HER. Thou by thy actions more than by thy words + Hast proved the malice which to me thou bear’st. + + AND. Why will you not conceal th’ inglorious pangs + Of jealous love? + + HER. What woman but resents + Such wrongs, and deems them great? + + AND. The use some make + Of these misfortunes adds to their renown: + But shame waits those who are devoid of wisdom. + + HER. We dwell not in a city where prevail + Barbarian laws. + + AND. In Phrygia or in Greece + Base actions are with infamy attended. + + HER. Though most expert in every subtle art, + Yet die thou must. + + AND. Behold you Thetis’ image + Turning its eyes on you? + + HER. She loathes thy country + Where her Achilles treacherously was slain. + + AND. Your mother Helen caused his death, not I. + + HER. Wouldst thou retrace still farther the sad tale + Of our misfortunes? + + AND. I restrain my tongue. + + HER. Speak to me now on that affair which caused + My coming hither. + + AND. All I say is this: + You have not so much wisdom as you need. + + HER. From this pure temple of the sea-born goddess + Wilt thou depart? + + AND. Not while I live: you first + Must slay, then drag me hence. + + HER. I am resolved + How to proceed, and wait my lord’s return + No longer. + + AND. Nor will I before he come + Surrender up myself. + + HER. With flaming brands + Hence will I drive thee, and no deference pay + To thy entreaties. + + AND. Kindle them; the gods + Will view the deed. + + HER. The scourge too is prepared. + + AND. Transpierce this bosom, deluge with my gore + The altar of the goddess, you by her + Shall be at length o’ertaken. + + HER. From thy cradle, + Trained up and hardened in barbarian pride, + Canst thou endure to die? from this asylum + Soon will I rouse thee by thy own consent, + I with such baits am furnished, but conceal + My purpose, which th’ event itself ere long + Will make conspicuous. Keep a steady seat, + For though by molten lead thou wert enclosed + Hence would I rouse thee, ere Achilles’ son, + Whom thou confid’st in, to this land return. + + [_Exit_ HERMIONE. + + AND. In him I place my still unshaken trust. + Yet is it strange that the celestial powers, + To heal the serpent’s venom, have assigned + Expedients, but no remedy devised + Against an evil woman who surpasses + Or vipers’ stings or the consuming flame: + Thus baleful is our influence on mankind. + +CHORUS. + + ODE. + + I. 1. + + The winged son of Maia and of Jove + To many sorrowful events gave birth, + And scattered discord o’er the bleeding earth, + When he through sacred Ida’s piny grove + Guided the car of three immortal dames, + (The golden prize of beauty to obtain, + In hateful strife engaged, who urged their claims); + To where in his mean hut abode a lonely swain. + + I. 2. + + No sooner had they reached the destined bower, + Than in the limpid spring her snowy frame + Each goddess laved; to Priam’s son then came + With artful speeches of such winning power + As might beguile the rash and amorous boy: + Venus prevailed; her words, though sweet their sound, + Proved of destructive consequence to Troy, + Whose stately bulwarks hence lie levelled with the ground. + + II. 1. + + When new-born Paris first beheld the light, + Would that his mother, o’er her head, this brand + Ordained by Heaven to fire his native land, + Had cast, before he dwelt on Ida’s height. + Unheeded from the bay’s prophetic shade + Exclaimed Cassandra: “Let the child be slain; + Kill him, or Priam’s empire is betrayed.” + Frantic she raved and sued to every prince in vain. + + II. 2. + + Deaf was each prince, or Ilion ne’er had felt + The servile yoke, nor hadst thou, hapless fair, + Beneath these roofs, encompassed by despair, + And subject to a rigid master, dwelt. + O had he died, the fated toil of Greece, + That stubborn war through ten revolving years, + Had roused no heroes from the lap of peace, + Nor caused the widow’s shrieks, the hoary father’s tears. + +MENELAUS, MOLOSSUS, ANDROMACHE, CHORUS. + + MEN. Your son I hither bring, whom from this fane + With secrecy, you to another house, + Without my daughter’s knowledge, had removed. + You boasted that this image of the goddess + To you, and those who hid him, would afford + A sure asylum: but your deep-laid craft, + O woman, cannot baffle Menelaus. + If you depart not hence, he in your stead + Shall be the victim; therefore well revolve + Th’ important question; had you rather die, + Or, with his streaming gore, let him atone + The foul offence ’gainst me and ’gainst my daughter + By you committed? + + AND. Thou, O vain opinion, + Hast with renown puffed up full many men + Who were of no account. I deem those blest + On whom with truth such honour is bestowed: + But them who by fallacious means obtain it + I hold unworthy of possessing fame. + When all their seeming wisdom but arises + From Fortune’s gifts. Thou with the bravest chiefs + Of Greece, from Priam erst didst wrest his Troy; + E’en thou who art so mean as to inspire + Thy daughter with resentment ’gainst a child, + And strive with me a miserable captive: + Unworthy of thy conquest over Troy + Thee do I hold, and Troy yet more disgraced + By such a victor. Some indeed there are + To all appearance upright, who awhile + Outwardly glitter, though they in their hearts + Are on a level with the worthless bulk + Of mortals, and superior but in wealth + Whose power is great. This conference let us end, + O Menelaus, be it now supposed + I by thy daughter am already slain: + ’Twill be impossible for her to ’scape + From the pollution ruthless murder brings; + Thou too by many tongues wilt be accused + Of this vile deed, with her will they confound + Thee the abettor. But if I preserve + My life, are ye resolved to slay my son? + How will the father tamely bear the death + Of his loved offspring? he was not esteemed + At Troy so void of courage. He is gone + Whither his duty calls. Soon will the chief + Act worthy of the race from which he springs, + The hoary Peleus, and his dauntless sire + Achilles, he from these abodes will cast + Thy daughter forth, and when thou to another + In marriage giv’st her, what hast thou to say + On her behalf? “That from a worthless lord + Her wisdom drove her?” This would be a falsehood + Too gross. But who would wed her? till grown grey + In widowhood, shall she beneath thy roofs + Fix her loathed residence? O wretched man, + The rising conflux of unnumbered woes + Behold’st thou not? hadst thou not rather find + Thy daughter wronged by concubines, than suffering + Th’ indignities I speak of? we from trifles + Such grievous mischiefs ought not to create; + Nor if we women are a deadly bane, + To the degenerate nature of our sex + Should men conform. If I pernicious drugs + Have to thy daughter ministered, and been, + As she pretends, the cause of her abortion, + Immediately will I without reluctance, + And without grovelling at this altar’s base, + To any rigid punishment submit + Inflicted by thy son-in-law, from whom + I surely merit as severe revenge + For having made him childless. Such am I: + But in thy temper I perceive one cause + Of just alarm, since in that luckless strife + About a woman, and a vile one too, + Thou the famed Phrygian city didst destroy. + + CHOR. Too freely hast thou spoken, in a tone + Which ill becomes thy sex, and that high soul + The bounds of wisdom hath o’erleaped. + + MEN. O woman, + So small an object, as you rightly judge, + Deserves not the attention of my realm, + Nor that of Greece. But learn this obvious truth: + To any man whate’er he greatly needs, + Is of more worth by far than taking Troy. + My daughter I assist, because I deem it + A wrong of great importance should she lose + Her bridal rights: for every woman looks + On all beside as secondary ills: + But if she from her husband’s arms be torn, + Seems reft of life itself. That Phthia’s prince + Direct my servants, and that his obey + Me and my race, is fitting: for true friends + Have no distinct possessions, but hold all + In common. While I wait for the return + Of her long absent lord, should I neglect + My daughter’s interests, I were weak, not wise. + But leave this shrine of Thetis: for the child + Shall if you bleed escape th’ impending doom: + Him, if you die not, will I slay, since fate + Of you or him the forfeit life demands. + + AND. Ah me! a bitter and unwelcome choice + Of life on terms like these hast thou proposed; + Wretch that I am! for whether I decline + Or make such option, I am wretched still. + O thou, who by a trifling wrong provoked, + Committ’st great crimes, attend: for what offence + Wouldst thou bereave me of my life? what city + Have I betrayed? what child of thine destroyed? + What mansion fired? I to my master’s bed + By force was dragged: yet me alone, not him + The author of that crime, thou mean’st to slay. + Thou, the first cause o’erlooking, on th’ effect + Which it produces, vent’st thy rage. What woes + Encompass wretched me! alas! my country! + How dreadful are the wrongs which I endure! + But wherefore was I doomed to bear a child, + And to the burden under which I groan + Add a new burden? what delight can life + To me afford? or on what fortunes past + Or present should I turn these eyes which saw + The corse of Hector by the victor’s car + Whirled round the walls, and wretched Troy a heap + Of blazing ruins? I meantime a slave + By my dishevelled hair was dragged aboard + The Argive navy; when I reached the coast + Of Phthia, and cohabited with those + Who slew my Hector; (but why lavish plaints + On past calamities, without deploring + Or taking a due estimate of those + Which now impend?) I had this only son + My life’s last comfort left, and they who take + Delight in deeds of cruelty, would slay him; + Yet to preserve my miserable life + He shall not perish; for auspicious hopes, + Could he be saved, his future days attend: + But if I died not for my son, reproach + Would be my portion. Lo! I leave the altar + And now am in thy hands, stab, slay me, bind, + Strain hard the deadly noose. My son, thy mother, + To rescue thee from an untimely grave, + Descends the shades beneath; if thou escape + The ruthless grasp of fate, remember me + How miserably I suffered; and with kisses, + At his return, when thou goest forth to meet + Thy father, when a flood of tears thou shedd’st, + And cling’st around him with those pliant arms, + Inform him how I acted. All men hold + Their children dear as life; but he who scorns them + Because he ne’er experienced what it is + To be a father, though with fewer griefs + Attended, but enjoys imperfect bliss. + + [_Rises, and advances from the altar._ + + CHOR. I with compassion to this moving tale + Have listened; for distress, to all mankind, + Though strangers, must seem piteous: but on thee, + O Menelaus, ’tis incumbent now + To reconcile thy daughter, and this captive, + That she may from her sorrows be released. + + MEN. Seize her, and bind her hands; for she shall hear + No pleasing language: I proposed to slay + Your son, that you might leave that hallowed altar + Of Thetis, and thus craftily induced you + To fall into my hands, and meet your death; + Be well assured, such is the present state + Of your affairs: as for that boy, on him + My daughter shall pass judgment, or to kill, + Or spare him: but now enter these abodes, + That you may learn, slave as you are, to treat + Those who are free no longer with disdain. + + AND. Thou hast o’erreached me by thy treacherous arts; + Alas! I am betrayed. + + MEN. Proclaim these tidings + To all men; for I shall not contradict them. + + AND. By those who dwell beside Eurotas’ stream + Are such base frauds called wisdom? + + MEN. Both at Troy + And there, ’tis just the injured should retaliate. + + AND. Believ’st thou that the gods are gods no longer, + Nor wield the bolt of vengeance? + + MEN. We must look + To that: but you shall die. + + AND. And wilt thou seize + This unfledged bird, to slay him? + + MEN. No, I will not, + But give him to my daughter, who must act + As she thinks fit. + + AND. Then how, alas, my son! + Can I sufficiently bewail thy fate? + + MEN. “Him,” ’twas but now with arrogance you said, + “Auspicious hopes attend.” + + AND. Ye worst of foes + To all mankind, inhabitants of Sparta! + Expert in treacherous counsels, still devising + New falsehoods, curst artificers of mischief, + Your paths are crooked, yet though void of worth, + Through Greece by circumspection ye uphold + An undeserved pre-eminence. What crimes, + What murders, what a thirst for abject gain + Characterize your realm! with specious tongue + Uttering a language foreign to your heart, + Are ye not ever caught? Perdition seize you! + Death is less grievous than thou deem’st to me + Who date my utter ruin from that hour + When Ilion’s wretched city was involved + In the same fate with my illustrious lord, + Whose spear oft drove thee trembling from the field + Into thy ships: but now against his wife + A formidable warrior art thou come + To murder me: strike, for this coward tongue + Shall never leave thine and thy daughter’s shame + Unpublished. If in Sparta thou art great, + So was I erst in Ilion; but exult not + In my disasters, for on thee ere long + The same reverse of fortune may attend. + +CHORUS. + + ODE. + + I. 1. + + Two rival consorts ne’er can I approve, + Or sons, the source of strife, their birth who owe + To different mothers; hence connubial love + Is banished, and the mansion teems with woe. + One blooming nymph let cautious husbands wed, + And share with her alone an unpolluted bed. + + I. 2. + + No prudent city, no well-governed state, + More than a single potentate will own; + Their subjects droop beneath the grievous weight + When two bear rule, and discord shakes the throne; + And if two bards awake their sounding lyres + E’en the harmonious Muse a cruel strife inspires, + + II. 1. + + To aid the bark, when prosperous gales arise, + Two jarring pilots shall misguide the helm: + Weak is a multitude when all are wise, + One simpler monarch could have saved the realm. + Let a sole chief the house or empire sway, + And all who hope for bliss their lord’s behests obey. + + II. 2. + + This truth hath Menelaus’ daughter shown, + Furious she comes the victim to destroy; + And, that their blood may nuptial wrongs atone, + The Phrygian captive, and that hapless boy, + With impious rage unjust would cause to bleed; + May pity, awful queen, thy lifted arm impede! + + But I before these doors behold the pair + On whom the fatal sentence now is passed. + Thou wretched dame, and wretched child who diest + Because thy mother to a foreign bed + By force was dragged, in her imputed guilt + Thou wert not an accomplice, thou thy lords + Hast not offended. + + AND. To the realms beneath, + Lo, I am hurried, with these bloody hands + Fast bound in galling chains. + + MOL. I too, O mother, + Under thy wing, to those loathed shades descend + A victim. O ye lords of Phthia’s land, + And thou, my father, succour those thou lov’st. + + AND. Cling to thy mother’s bosom, O my child, + Together let us die. + + MOL. Ah me! how grievous + My sufferings are! too clearly I perceive + That I, and thou my mother, both are wretched. + + MEN. Go both together to th’ infernal realm: + For ye from hostile turrets hither came. + Although the cause why you and he must bleed + Is not the same, my sentence takes away + Your life, and my Hermione’s your son’s. + The highest folly were it to permit + A foe to live and vex us, whom with ease + We might despatch, and from our house remove + Such danger. + + AND. O my husband, would to Heaven + I had thy arm to aid me; and thy spear, + Thou son of Priam. + + MOL. Wretched me! what charm + Can I devise t’ avert impending fate? + + AND. My son, implore the mercy of our lord + Clasping his knees. + + MOL. Dear monarch, spare my life. + + AND. Tears from these eyes burst forth like trickling drops + By the sun’s heat forced from a solid rock, + Wretch that I am! + + MOL. What remedy, alas! + For these dire evils can my soul devise? + + MEN. Why dost thou idly grovel at my feet + With fruitless supplications, while I stand + Firm as a rock, or as th’ unpitying wave? + Such conduct serves my interests: no affection + To thee I bear, because my morn of life + Was wasted in the conflict, ere I took + Troy and thy mother, whose society + Thou in the realms of Pluto shalt enjoy. + +PELEUS, MENELAUS, ANDROMACHE, MOLOSSUS, CHORUS. + + CHOR. Peleus, I see, draws near, his aged feet + With eager haste advancing. + + PEL. You, and him + Who stands presiding o’er a murderous deed, + What means this uproar that disturbs the house, + I question, and what practices are these + Ye carry on unauthorized by law? + O Menelaus, stay thy furious hand, + And let not execution thus outstrip + All righteous judgment. O my friends, lead on; + For such a dread emergency appears + T’ admit of no delay. Could I regain + That youthful vigour which I erst enjoyed + As prosperous breezes aid the floating sails, + This captive would I favour. Say, what right + Have they to bind your hands, and drag along + You and your son? for like the bleating mother, + Led forth to slaughter with her lamb, you perish, + While I and your unwitting lord are absent. + + AND. They, as thou seest, O venerable man, + Me and my son thus bear to instant death. + What shall I say to thee, whom I with speed + Not by one single messenger but thousands + Have sent for? sure thou, of the fatal strife + In these divided mansions, with his daughter, + To which I owe my ruin, must have heard: + And from the violated shrine of Thetis, + Who bore to thee a noble son, the goddess + Whom thou rever’st e’en now with brutal force + Me have they torn, nor judged my cause, nor wait + For absent Neoptolemus, but, knowing + That I and that this child who hath committed + No fault, are left alone and unprotected, + Would slay us both. But, O thou aged man, + Thus prostrate on my knees, to thee I sue, + And, though this hand must not presume to touch + Thy honoured beard, conjure thee by the gods, + Rescue us, or to thy eternal shame + Both he and I must miserably bleed. + + PEL. My orders are that you those galling chains + Unbind and loose her hands, else will I make + The disobedient weep. + + MEN. But I, your equal, + Who have much more authority o’er her, + Forbid them. + + PEL. Com’st thou hither to direct + My household? is it not enough for thee + To rule thy Spartans? + + MEN. Her I took at Troy. + + PEL. She, to reward his valour, was bestowed + Upon my grandson. + + MEN. Doth not all he owns, + To me, and what is mine, to him belong? + + PEL. For honest purposes, but not for crimes + And murderous violence. + + MEN. You ne’er shall take her + Out of my hands. + + PEL. Thy head I with this sceptre + Will smite. + + MEN. Draw near; if you presume to touch me, + Soon shall you rue such outrage. + + PEL. O thou villain, + Sprung from a race of impious sires, what right + To be accounted an illustrious man, + And numbered with the truly brave, hast thou, + Who by a Phrygian wanderer wert deprived + Of thy fair consort, after thou hadst left + Thy house unbarred and destitute of guards, + As if thou in thy mansions hadst possessed + A virtuous dame, though she of all her sex + Was the most dissolute? nor if she would + Can any Spartan nymph be chaste? for wandering + From their own homes, distinguished by bare legs, + And zoneless vest, they with young men contend + In swiftness and in wrestling; I such customs + Hold in abhorrence. Is there any room + For wonder if the women prove unchaste + Whom thus you educate? thy Helen ought + To have proposed these questions, ere she left + Her native realm, regardless of thy love, + And by that youthful paramour seduced, + Wantonly fled into a foreign land. + Yet for her sake didst thou that numerous host + Of Greeks collect, and lead them to assail + The Phrygian ramparts. Thou that beauteous dame + Shouldst rather have despised, nor in her cause + Wielded the javelin, when thou found’st her worthless, + But suffered her in Ilion to remain, + And sent rich gifts to Paris on these terms, + That to thy house she never should return. + But thou, instead of suffering these just motives + To make their due impression on thy soul, + Full many valiant warriors hast destroyed, + Made th’ aged matron childless, and deprived + Of his illustrious sons the hoary sire. + Numbered with those who owe to thee thy ruin + Am wretched I: for like some evil genius + In thee do these indignant eyes behold + The murderer of Achilles: thou alone, + Save by the missile shaft, unwounded cam’st + From Ilion’s hostile shores; in burnished chests + Didst thou bear thither the same glittering arms + Which thou bear’st back again. Before he wedded, + I warned my grandson to form no connection + With thee, nor into these abodes admit + The brood of that adult’ress; for the daughters + Their mother emulate in deeds of shame. + Look well to this, ye suitors, and select + The damsel with maternal worth endued. + Then with what scorn didst thou thy brother treat, + Commanding him ’gainst reason to transgress, + And sacrifice his daughter. Thou such fears, + Lest thou that execrable wife shouldst lose, + Didst entertain. When thou hadst taken Troy, + This too I urge against thee, though thou hadst + Thy consort in thy power, thou didst not slay her, + But when her throbbing bosom thou beheld’st + Didst cast away thy sword, receive her kisses, + And soothe the fears of her who had betrayed thee. + O worthless miscreant, whom the Cyprian Queen + Hath thus debased! thou after this intrud’st + Into my grandson’s palace, in his absence + Committ’st these outrages, and basely slay’st + A miserable woman, and her child, + Thee and thy daughter who shall cause to weep + Though trebly illegitimate his birth. + Oft the parched heath, when duly tilled, exceeds + The richest soil, and greater instances + Of virtue are in many a bastard found + Than in the lawfully begotten race. + But take thy daughter hence. Far better is it + To form affinity and strictest friendship + With a poor man of worth, than him who joins + Iniquity with wealth: but as for thee, + Thou art a thing of nought. + + CHOR. Among mankind, + Oft from a small beginning doth the tongue + Great strife occasion: but the wise beware + Of entering on a contest with their friend. + + MEN. Why do we speak in such exalted terms + Of aged men, as if they were endued + With wisdom, though in former days supposed + By the whole Grecian race to judge aright? + When you, O Peleus, who derive your birth + From an illustrious sire, and with my house + So nearly are connected, hold a language + Disgraceful to yourself, and slander me, + For a barbarian dame, whom from this land + You ought to banish far beyond the Nile, + Beyond the Phasis, and applaud my vengeance; + Because she comes from Asiatic shores, + Where many valiant Grecian chiefs lie slain. + And hath in part been guilty of the blood + Of your famed son; for Paris, by whose shaft, + Transpierced, Achilles perished, was the brother, + And she the wife of Hector: yet you enter + The same abode with her, the genial board + With her partake, allow her to bring forth + Under your roofs an execrable brood. + These mischiefs both to you and me, old man, + Foreseeing, have I snatched her from your hands + With a design to kill her. But, O say, + (For there is nought of meanness in our holding + This conference), if my daughter bear no child, + And she have sons, will you appoint them lords + Of this your Phthian land? shall they who spring + From a barbarian race, o’er Greeks bear rule? + Am I, because I hate injustice, void + Of understanding, and are you discreet? + Reflect on this; had you bestowed your daughter + On any citizen, were she thus treated, + Would you sit down and bear her wrongs in silence? + I deem you would not. Why then with such harshness + Speak you in favour of a foreign dame + Against your nearest friends? as great a right + To vengeance as her husband, hath the wife + Whom her lord injures: for while he whose doors + An unchaste consort enters, in his hands + Hath power to right himself, a woman’s strength + Lies only in her parents and her friends. + My daughter, therefore, am I bound to aid: + You show the marks of age: for while you talk + Of that famed war I waged, you more befriend me + Than if you had been silent. Deep in woe + Was Helen plunged, not by her own consent + But by the gods: and this event hath proved + To Greece most advantageous, for its sons + Who knew not how till then to wield the spear, + Grew valiant. From experience, best of tutors, + Men gather all the knowledge they possess. + But when I saw my consort, in forbearing + To take away her life, I acted wisely: + And would that you had done like me, nor slain + Your brother Phocus; this to you I speak + Through mere benevolence, and not in wrath: + But if resentment o’er your soul usurp + An empire, such intemperance of the tongue + Will be in you more shameful, while my wishes + I by a prudent forethought shall attain. + + CHOR. Now both desist (for this were better far) + From such unprofitable strife of words, + O ye will both offend. + + PEL. Ah me! through Greece + What mischievous opinions have prevailed! + When with the spoils of vanquished foes, the host + A trophy rear, they think not how ’twas gained + By those brave soldiers who endure the toil + Of battle, while their general bears away + All the renown: though he was only one + Who stood ’midst thousands brandishing his spear, + Nor any single combatant surpassed, + He gains a larger portion of applause. + The venerable rulers of a city, + Placed in exalted stations, yet devoid + Of any real merit, overlook + The populace, though many in the crowd + Of their inferiors are more wise than they, + If haply courage and an honest zeal + Unite to place them in the public view. + Thou and thy brother thus are swollen with pride, + From having led those troops to conquer Troy, + And triumph in the sufferings of your friends. + But henceforth will I teach thee not to look + On Paris, Ida’s shepherd, as a foe, + More terrible than Peleus. If with speed + Thou quit not these abodes, and take away + Thy childless daughter, my indignant grandson, + By her dishevelled hair around the palace + Will drag this barren dame, who stung with envy, + Cannot endure the fruitful mother’s joys. + But, if she prove so luckless as to bare + No issue, ought she therefore to deprive us + Of our posterity? Begone, ye slaves, + That I may see who dares obstruct my loosing + Her hands. Rise up: though trembling with old age, + Your chains can I unbind. O worthless man, + Hast thou thus galled her hands? didst thou suppose + Thou held’st a bull or lion in the snare? + Or didst thou shudder lest she should snatch up + A sword, and wreak just vengeance on thy head? + Come hither to these sheltering arms, my child, + Unbind thy mother’s chains; in Phthia, thee + I’ll educate, to them a bitter foe. + Should Sparta’s sons by the protended spear + Obtain no fame, nor in th’ embattled field + Their prowess signalize, be well assured + Ye have no other merit. + + CHOR. Old men talk + With freedom, and their vehemence of soul + Is hard to be restrained. + + MEN. Extremely prone + Are you to slander; much against my will + I came to Phthia, and am here resolved + That I will neither do nor suffer aught + Disgraceful: but to my own home with speed + Am I returning, and have little time + In vain debates to lavish: for a city + Not far from Sparta’s gates and erst a friend + Is waging war against us: I would lead + My hardy squadrons forth t’ assail the foe, + And utterly subdue them. To my wish + Soon as this great affair I shall have settled, + Hither will I return, and face to face, + When I my reasons to my son-in-law + Have in the clearest terms proposed, will hear + What he can urge; and if he punish her, + And for the future courteously to me + Demean himself, from me he in return + Shall meet with courtesy; but if he rage, + He of my rage the dire effects shall feel: + For still such treatment as his deeds deserve + Shall he experience. But I am not hurt + By these injurious words of yours; for like + Some disembodied ghost, you have a voice, + Although you are not able to do aught + But merely speak. + + [_Exit_ MENELAUS. + + PEL. Lead on, my boy; here take + Thy station under these protecting arms; + And thou too, O thou miserable dame, + Driven hither by the furious storm; at length + Into a quiet haven are ye come. + + AND. On thee and thy descendants may the gods + Shower every blessing, venerable man, + For having saved this child, and wretched me; + Yet O beware, lest in some lonely spot + They suddenly assail us, and by force + Drag me away, perceiving thou art old, + That I am a weak woman, and my son + Is but an infant: all precautions use, + Else we, who have escaped them, may again + Be caught. + + PEL. Forbear to utter, in such language + As this, the dictates of a woman’s fear. + Advance, who dares to touch you? he shall weep. + For with the blessing of th’ immortal gods, + And by unnumbered troops of valiant horse, + And infantry supported, I bear rule + Over the Phthian land. I am robust, + Nor, as you deem, impaired by palsied age. + Were I, opposed in battle, but to look + On such a man as this, old as I am, + An easy conquest soon should I obtain. + Superior is the veteran, if with courage + Inspired, to many youths: for what avails + A vigorous body with a coward’s heart? + + [_Exeunt_ PELEUS, ANDROMACHE, _and_ MOLOSSUS. + +CHORUS. + + ODE. + + I. + + My wish were this; or never to be born, + Or to descend from generous sires, and share + The blessings which attend a wealthy heir. + If heaviest woes assail, ne’er left forlorn + Without a friend are they of nobler race, + Hereditary trophies deck their head: + The records of the brave with joy we trace, + No distant age their memory can efface, + For virtue’s torch unquenched pours radiance o’er the dead. + + II. + + Better is conquest, when we gain our right + By no reproachful means, no deeds of shame, + Than if to envy we expose our fame, + And trample on the laws with impious might. + Such laurels which at first too sweetly bloom, + Ere long are withered by the frost of time, + And scorn pursues their wearers to the tomb. + I in my household or the state presume + To seek that power alone which rules without a crime. + + III. + + O veteran, sprung from Æacus, thy spear + Chilled the Lapithæ with fear, + And from their hills the Centaurs drove. + When glory called, and prosperous gales + Swelled the Argo’s daring sails, + Intrepid didst thou pass that strait + Where ruin oft the crashing bark attends, + And ocean’s foam descends + From the Symplegades’ obstructing height. + Next didst thou land on perjured Ilion’s shore, + With Hercules illustrious son of Jove, + Then first its bulwarks streamed with gore: + Till crowned with fame a partner of his toil, + Europe again thou sought’st and Phthia’s frozen soil. + +THE NURSE OF HERMIONE, CHORUS. + + NUR. How doth a rapid series of events + The most disastrous, O my dearest friends, + This day invade us! for within these doors + Hermione my mistress, by her sire + Forsaken, and grown conscious of the guilt + She hath incurred, by that attempt to murder + Andromache and her unhappy son, + Resolves to die, because she dreads, lest fired + With indignation at her guilt, her lord + Should cast her forth with scorn, or take away + Her life, because she purposed to have slain + The innocent. The servants who attend + Can hardly by their vigilance prevent her + From fixing round her neck the deadly noose, + Or snatch the dagger from her hand, so great + Is her affliction, and she now confesses + That she has done amiss. My strength’s exhausted + In striving to withhold my royal mistress + From perishing by an ignoble death. + But enter ye these mansions, and attempt + To save her life, for strangers can persuade + Far better than old friends. + + CHOR. We hear the voice + Of her attendants from within confirm + Th’ intelligence thou hither cam’st to bring: + That hapless woman seems just on the point + Of showing with what rage she by her guilt + Is hurried on: for lo, she rushes forth + From yon abodes, already hath she ’scaped + Her servants’ hands, and is resolved to die. + +HERMIONE, NURSE, CHORUS. + + HER. Ah me! these ringlets how will I tear off, + How rend my cheeks! + + NUR. What mean’st thou, O my daughter? + Wilt thou thus injure that fair frame? + + HER. Away, + O thou slight veil, I pluck thee from my head, + And toss thy scattered fragments in the air. + + NUR. Cover thy bosom with the decent robe. + + HER. Why with a robe my bosom should I hide? + The crimes I have committed ’gainst my lord + Are clear, well known, and cannot be concealed. + + NUR. Griev’st thou because thou hast formed schemes to slay + Thy rival? + + HER. I with many groans bewail + Those hostile darings, execrable wretch, + Wretch that I am, an object of just hate + To all mankind. + + NUR. Thy husband such offence + Will pardon. + + HER. From my hand why didst thou snatch + The sword? Restore, restore it, O my friends, + That I this bosom may transpierce. Why force me + To quit yon pendant noose? + + NUR. In thy distraction + Shall I forsake and leave thee thus to die? + + HER. Where shall I find (inform me, O ye Fates) + The blazing pyre, ascend the craggy rock, + Plunge in the billows, or amidst the woods + On a steep mountain waste the life I loathe, + That after death the gods beneath may take me + To their protection? + + CHOR. Why wouldst thou make efforts + So violent? some mischiefs sent by Heaven + Sooner or later visit all mankind. + + HER. Me like a stranded bark, thou, O my sire, + Hast left forsaken and without an oar. + To thee I owe my ruin. I no longer + In these my bridal mansions can reside. + To the propitious statues of what God + With suppliant haste shall I repair, or fall + At a slave’s knees, myself an abject slave? + I from the land of Phthia, like a bird + Upborne on azure wings, would speed my flight, + Or imitate that ship whose dashing oars + ’Twixt the Cyanean straits first urged their way. + + NUR. As little, O my daughter, can I praise + That vehemence which caused thee to transgress + Against the Trojan dame, as these thy fears + Which are immoderate. For such slight offence + Thy lord, misled by the pernicious tongue + Of a barbarian woman, from his couch + Will not expel thee: for thou art not his + By right of conquest, borne from vanquished Troy; + But thee, the daughter of a mighty king, + He with abundant dower, and from a city + Most flourishing, received: nor will thy sire, + His child forsaking, as thou dread’st, permit thee + To be cast forth: but enter these abodes, + Nor show thyself without, lest some affront + Thou shouldst receive if haply thou art seen + Before these doors. + + [_Exit_ NURSE. + + CHOR. Behold a man, whose dress + Is of such different fashion that it speaks + The foreigner, comes swiftly from the gate. + +ORESTES, HERMIONE, CHORUS. + + ORE. Is this th’ abode of great Achilles’ son, + The regal mansion, O ye foreign dames? + + CHOR. It is as thou hast said. But who art thou + That ask’st this question? + + ORE. Agamemnon’s son, + And Clytemnestra’s; but my name’s Orestes: + I to Dodona, th’ oracle of Jove, + Am on my road; but since I now have reached + The land of Phthia, first would I inquire + How fares Hermione, the Spartan dame, + My kinswoman; doth she yet live and prosper? + For though from me far distant be the land + In which she now resides, she still is dear. + + HER. O son of Agamemnon, who thus make + Your seasonable appearance, like the haven + To mariners amidst a furious storm, + Take pity, I implore you by those knees, + On me a wretch whose inauspicious fortunes + You witness. Hence around your knees I fling + These arms, which ought to prove of equal force + With hallowed branches by the suppliant borne. + + ORE. What’s this? am I deceived? or do my eyes + Indeed behold the queen of these abodes, + And Menelaus’ daughter? + + HER. Th’ only child + Whom to the Spartan monarch Helen bore. + Mistake me not. + + ORE. O Phœbus, healing power, + Protect us! But what dire mischance hath happened? + Or from the gods, or human foes, proceed + The evils thou endur’st? + + HER. Some from myself, + But others from the husband whom I wedded + The rest from one of the immortal gods. + I utterly am ruined. + + ORE. What afflictions + Can any woman who’s yet childless feel + But those which from her nuptial union spring? + + HER. Hence these distempers of the soul arise, + And well do you anticipate my words. + + ORE. Enamoured with another, is thy lord + False to thy bed? + + HER. He loves a captive dame, + The wife of Hector. + + ORE. This of which thou speak’st + Is a great evil, when one man possesses + Two wives. + + HER. ’Twas thus, till I avenged the wrong. + + ORE. Didst thou with arts familiar to thy sex + Plot ’gainst thy rival’s life? + + HER. I would have killed + Her and her spurious son. + + ORE. Hast thou despatched them? + Or were they screened from their impending fate? + + HER. Old Peleus to these worthless objects showed + Too great a reverence. + + ORE. Was there any friend + Ready to aid thee in the purposed slaughter? + + HER. My sire, who for this cause from Sparta came. + + ORE. Yet by that aged man was he subdued? + + HER. Abashed he fled, and left me here alone. + + ORE. I understand thee well: thy husband’s wrath + Thou fear’st for what thou’st done. + + HER. The fact you know: + Hence justly will he take away my life. + What can be said? yet by immortal Jove, + Our grandsire, I conjure you, send me far + From these domains, or to my father’s house. + Had but these walls a voice, they would proclaim + The sentence of my exile, for the land + Of Phthia hates me. If my lord return + From Phœbus’ oracle, for the misdeeds + I have committed, he will strike me dead, + Or force me to become that harlot’s slave + Whom erst I ruled. + + ORE. By some will it be asked + Whence then into such errors didst thou fall? + + HER. My ruin I derive from the admission + Of these vile women, who inflamed my pride + By uttering these rash words: “Wilt thou endure + Beneath thy roof that odious slave who shares + Thy bridal couch? by Juno, awful queen, + I would not suffer such a wretch to breathe + In my polluted chamber.” When I heard + The language uttered by these crafty sirens, + Artificers of mischief, who, to suit + Their purpose, in persuasive strains displayed + The power of eloquence, I was puffed up + With folly: for what need had I to hold + My lord in reverence while possessed of all + That I could wish? abundant wealth was mine, + O’er these abodes I reigned, and any children + I to my husband might hereafter bare + Would be legitimate; but hers, by mine + In strict subjection held, a spurious race. + But never, never (I this truth repeat) + Should wedded men, who have the gift of reason, + Let women have a free access, and visit + Their consort. For they teach her evil lessons: + Urged by the hopes of lucre, one corrupts + Her chastity; a second hath already + Transgressed herself, and wishes that her friend + May be as vicious: many by their lust + Are led astray: hence to their husband’s house + A train of mischief rises. Guard the doors + Of your abodes with locks and massive bars; + Since from the intrusion of these female guests, + No good, but mischiefs numberless ensue. + + CHOR. Thou to thy tongue hast given too free a scope + In thus aspersing the whole female race: + Thy present woes indeed our pardon claim; + Yet every woman is in duty bound + To gloss o’er the misconduct of her sex. + + ORE. Wisdom pertained to him who taught mankind + To hear the reasons by both parties urged + In a debate. Aware of the confusion + In these abodes, and of the strife ’twixt thee + And Hector’s wife, I stayed not to observe + Whether thou in this house wouldst still remain, + Or through a fear of yonder captive dame + Abandon it: I therefore hither came, + Nor waited for intelligence from thee. + And if a satisfactory account + Of thy proceedings thou to me canst give, + I will convey thee hence. For thou, who erst + Wert mine, with this thy present husband liv’st, + Through the perfidious conduct of thy sire, + Who ere he entered the domains of Troy + Affianced thee to me, and then to him + Who now possesses thee, again engaged, + If he the Phrygian city should subdue. + But I forgive thy father for this wrong, + When hither great Achilles’ son returned, + And to the bridegroom sued that he would loose + Thy plighted hand; of all my various fortunes + Informing him, and of my present woes; + How feasible it were for me to wed + Among my friends, but that for such an exile + As I am, driven from my paternal throne, + ’Twould not be easy to obtain a consort + In any foreign land: on this he grew + More arrogant, and bitterly reproached me + Both with my mother’s murder, and those Furies + Whose blood-stained visages inspire dismay. + By the misfortunes of my house bowed down + To earth, I grieved indeed, but grieving bore + The weight of these calamities, and reft + Of thee my bride, reluctantly departed. + But since thy fortunes now have undergone + A change so unexpected, and involved + In woe, thou stand’st aghast; from these abodes + Thee will I take and to thy sire convey. + For wondrous is the force of kindred ties; + And in misfortunes nought exceeds the friend + Who from the self-same house derives his birth. + + HER. My father will take care how to dispose + Of me in marriage, nor is it my province + Such question to decide. But, O convey me + From these loathed mansions with the utmost speed, + Lest when my husband at his first return + Enters the doors, he intercept my flight; + Or, hearing that I leave his grandson’s house, + Peleus pursue me with his rapid steeds. + + ORE. Be of good cheer against that aged man, + And from thy furious lord, Achilles’ son, + Who treated me with scorn, fear nought; this hand + Hath with such cautious artifice prepared + For him th’ inevitable snares of death, + Of which no previous mention will I make: + But when it is accomplished, this exploit + Shall on the rock of Delphi be proclaimed. + I who my mother slew, if th’ armed friends + Whom I have stationed in the Pythian realm + Observe their oaths, will teach him that he ought + To have abstained from wedding any dame + Betrothed to me. He in an evil hour + Shall claim atonement for his father’s death + Of Phœbus mighty king; nor shall repentance + For these audacious blasphemies avail + To save the miscreant on whose impious head + Apollo wreaks just vengeance; by his wrath + O’ertaken, and entangled in my snares, + He wretchedly shall perish. For the gods + Subvert the prosperous fortunes of their foes + Nor suffer pride to rear her towering crest. + + [_Exeunt_ ORESTES _and_ HERMIONE. + +CHORUS. + + ODE. + + I. 1. + + Phœbus, thou god who with a mound + Of stately towers didst Ilion’s rock surround; + And thou, O Neptune, ruler of the main, + Borne swiftly by thy azure steeds + In a light car, who cleav’st the watery plain; + After exerting with unwearied toil + Such skill as human works exceeds, + ’Gainst wretched Troy when Mars his javelin bore, + Why, faithless to that chosen soil, + Left ye your city drenched in gore? + + I. 2. + + The steeds ye yoked on Simois’ banks + Whirled many a chariot through the broken ranks; + No hero gathered in that stubborn fray + One laurel to adorn his head: + Phrygia’s illustrious rulers swept away, + Took their last voyage to a distant shore, + And mingled with the vulgar dead, + While the polluted altars ceased to gleam + Upwafting to the skies no more + Their frankincense in odorous steam. + + II. 1. + + Slain by his wife Atrides fell; + His furious son sent to the shades of Hell + The murderess, and returned th’ unnatural deed, + That fatal stroke the god approved, + His oracles ordained that she should bleed, + When young Orestes at the inmost shrine + Was by a heavenly impulse moved, + His hands in gore maternal to imbrue. + O Phœbus, O thou power divine, + How shall I think th’ assertion true? + + II. 2. + + In Greece doth many a dame complain + Chaunting rude dirges for her children slain; + Others their native land reluctant leave, + And to a foreign lord are brought. + Nor yet hast thou alone just cause to grieve, + Nor to thy friends hath Heaven’s peculiar hate + These signal miseries wrought: + Victorious Greece still feels as deep a wound, + From whence the thunderbolt of fate + Through Phrygia scattered deaths around. + +PELEUS, CHORUS. + + PEL. Answer my questions, O ye Phthian dames, + For doubtful is the rumour I have heard, + That Menelaus’ daughter, when she left + This house departed from the realm. I come + Anxious to learn if this account be true. + For ’tis their duty who remain at home + To guard the fortunes of their absent friends. + + CHOR. What thou hast heard, O Peleus, is the truth, + And ill would it become me to conceal + The woes in which I deeply am involved: + Our royal mistress from these walls is fled. + + PEL. What feared she? say. + + CHOR. The anger of her lord, + Lest he from these abodes should cast her forth. + + PEL. Because she plotted to have slain the boy? + + CHOR. E’en so it was. Yon captive too she dreaded. + + PEL. But from these mansions did she go, attended, + Or by her father or by whom? + + CHOR. The son + Of Agamemnon from this land conveyed her. + + PEL. What are his views? to take her for his bride? + + CHOR. Thy grandson too he meditates to slay. + + PEL. Stationed in secret ambush, or resolved + To meet the dauntless warrior face to face? + + CHOR. Beneath Apollo’s unpolluted fane + With Delphi’s citizens. + + PEL. Atrocious crime! + Ah me! will no one with his utmost speed + Go to the altar of the Pythian god, + And to our friends disclose what passes here, + Ere by his foes Achilles’ son is slain? + +MESSENGER, PELEUS, CHORUS. + + MES. What evil tidings do I bring to you, + O aged man, and all my master’s friends! + + PEL. By a sad presage which affects my soul + I of th’ impending evil am forewarned. + + MES. Know then, O Peleus, that your wretched grandson + Is now no more, with such unnumbered wounds + He by the Delphic citizens transpierced, + And by that stranger from Mycene died. + + CHOR. Alas! alas! but what resource is left + For thee, thou hoary veteran? do not fall; + Raise thyself up. + + PEL. To very nothing now + Am I reduced, I utterly am ruined: + The power of speech deserts me, and these limbs + Forget their office. + + MES. Hear me, and from earth + Arise, if, with th’ assistance of your friends, + You for this murder wish to be revenged. + + PEL. How hast thou compassed wretched me, who stand + On the last verge of spiritless old age, + O cruel fate! say how the only son + Of my deceased, my only son, was slain. + These tidings though unwelcome would I hear. + + MES. After we reached Apollo’s sacred realm, + While thrice the chariot of the sun performed + Its bright career, we satiated our eyes + With viewing all around. The circumstance + Which raised suspicion first, was this: the people + Who dwell within the temple of the god + Held frequent meetings, and in crowds assembled. + Meanwhile the son of Agamemnon went + Through the whole city, and in every ear + Whispered malignant words like these: “Behold + Him who is visiting the hallowed shrine + Of Phœbus piled with gold, the treasures given + By all mankind; the miscreant comes again + On the same purpose which first drew him hither, + To overthrow the temple of the god.” + Through the whole city hence an evil rumour + Went forth, and all the magistrates, to whom + The holy treasures were consigned, assembled, + In secret councils held, and placed a guard + Behind the massive columns in the fane. + We, unapprized of this, meantime had caught + Some sheep, that fed amid Parnassus’ grove, + And with our Delphic friends and Pythian seers + Approached the altar: some one said: “Young man, + What vows on thy behalf shall we address + To Phœbus? for what purpose art thou come?” + He answered: “To the god I wish to make + A due atonement for my past offence, + Because I erst from him with impious tongue + Claimed satisfaction for my father’s blood.” + Hence did Orestes’ calumnies appear + To have great weight, suggesting that my lord + Spoke an untruth, and that he hither came + With vile designs. Beneath the holy roof, + That to Apollo he might offer up + His prayers in that oracular abode, + He now advanced, and as they blazed, observed + The victims: here a troop with falchions armed + Screened by the branching laurels stood; the son + Of Clytemnestra was the sole contriver + Of all these stratagems. Our lord stood forth, + And, in the sight of this insidious band, + Adored the god: while they with their keen swords, + Ere he discerned them, pierced Achilles’ son + Unsheathed in mail. He instantly retreated; + For he as yet had by no deadly wound + Been smitten; but snatched up in his retreat + Those glittering arms which near the portals hung, + And stood a champion terrible to view, + Close to the blazing altar: with loud voice + He questioned the inhabitants of Delphi: + “Me who a pious votary hither come, + Why, or for what offences, would ye slay!” + Although the number of his foes was great, + None of them answered, but all hands hurled stones: + On every side assaulted by a storm + Thick as the falling snows, he warded off, + Extending the broad margin of his shield, + Each missile weapon: but of no avail + Was this resistance: for the spear, the shaft, + The dart, were thrown at once, and at his feet + Mixed instruments of sacrifice lay scattered. + Th’ agility with which your grandson shunned + The blows they aimed, was wondrous to behold: + They in a circle gathering round, closed in, + Nor gave him space to breathe, till from the altar + Descending with a leap like that which bore + The hapless Grecian chief to Phrygia’s coast, + He rushed among them: like a flock of doves + Who see the hawk appear, they turned and fled: + In heaps on heaps promiscuous, many fell, + Some in the narrow passage wounded lay, + While others o’er them trampled, and their groans + Unholy echoed through the hallowed dome. + But, tranquil as the waters in a calm, + In golden arms my lord resplendent stood, + Till from the inmost sanctuary burst forth + A deep-toned voice of horror, which impelled + The recreant warriors to renew the fight: + Achilles’ son then smitten through the flank + With a keen sword, by one of Delphi fell, + Who slew him, yet ignobly, with the aid + Of multitudes. But after he to earth + Was fallen, what sword transpierced him not, what hand + Threw not a stone to smite him? his whole frame, + So graceful erst, was with unnumbered wounds + Disfigured: till at length his mangled corse, + Which stained the altar’s basis, from the fane + Drenched with the blood of victims they cast forth. + But gathering up with speed, his loved remains + To you we bear, O venerable man, + That o’er them you may shed the plenteous tear, + And grace them with sepulchral rites. Thus Phœbus, + Who prophesies to others, mighty king, + And deals out justice to th’ admiring world, + Hath on Achilles’ son revenged himself, + And, like some worthless human foe, revived + An ancient grudge: how then can he be wise? + + [_Exit_ MESSENGER. + + CHOR. But lo! our royal master, from the land + Of Delphi borne, approaches these abodes! + Wretched was he, by such untimely doom + O’ertaken: nor art thou, O aged man, + Less wretched than the slaughtered youth: for thou + Into thy doors receiv’st Achilles’ son, + But not as thou couldst wish; thou too art fallen + Into affliction’s snare. + + PEL. What piteous object, + Ah me! do I behold, and with these hands + Receive into my house! we are undone, + We are undone, O thou Thessalian city; + I have no children, no descendants left, + To occupy these mansions. On what friend + Shall I a wretched sufferer turn my eyes, + And hope to find relief? O thou dear face, + Ye cheeks, ye hands! thee would to Heaven that fate + In those embattled fields of Troy had slain + Beside the waves of Simois! + + CHOR. He in death + Hence would have found renown; thou too, old man, + Wouldst have been happier. + + PEL. Thou, O wedlock, wedlock, + These mansions and my city hast o’erthrown. + My grandson, through the inauspicious nuptials + By thee contracted, would to heaven my gates + Had ne’er received that execrable fiend + Hermione, thy bane! O had she first + With thunderbolts been smitten! nor hadst thou, + Presumptuous mortal, charged the Delphic god + With having aimed the shaft which slew thy sire! + + CHOR. I will awake the sad funereal dirge, + And wailing pay to my departed lord + Such customary tribute as attends + The shades of mighty chiefs. + + PEL. Ah me! at once + With misery and old age bowed down to earth, + I shed th’ incessant tear. + + CHOR. Thus hath the god + Ordained, the god’s vindictive arm hath wrought + All these calamities. + + PEL. O most beloved, + This house, ah me! a desert hast thou left, + And me a miserable old man made childless. + + CHOR. Before thy children, O thou aged man, + Thou shouldst have died. + + PEL. Shall I not rend my hair, + And beat with desperate hands this hoary head? + O city! Phœbus hath of both my sons + Deprived me. + + CHOR. O thou miserable old man, + What evils hast thou witnessed and endured! + How wilt thou pass the remnant of thy life? + + PEL. Childless, forlorn, no period to my woes + Can I discover, but till death must drink + The bitter potion. + + CHOR. Sure the gods in vain + Showered blessings on thy nuptials. + + PEL. Fled and withered + Is all our ancient pomp. + + CHOR. Alone thou mov’st + Around thy lonely house. + + PEL. I have no city. + Thee, O my sceptre, to the ground I cast, + And from yon dreary caverns of the main, + Daughter of Nereus, me wilt thou behold + Utterly ruined, grovelling in the dust. + + CHOR. Ha! who was it that moved? what form divine + Do I perceive? look there! ye nymphs, attend, + With rapid passage through the fleecy clouds + Borne onward, some divinity arrives + At Phthia’s pastures, famed for generous steeds. + +THETIS, PELEUS, CHORUS. + + THE. O Peleus, mindful of the ties which bound + Our plighted love, I hither from the house + Of Nereus come, and with these wholesome counsels + Begin; despair not, though thy present woes + Are grievous: for e’en I who should have borne + A race of children such as ne’er might cause + My tears to stream, have lost the son who crowned + Our hopes, Achilles, swift of foot, the first + Of Grecian heroes. But to thee, the motives + Which brought me hither, will I now relate; + O listen to my voice. Back to that altar + Devoted to the Pythian god, convey + This body of Achilles’ slaughtered son, + And bury it; so shall his tomb declare + The murderous violence Orestes’ band + Committed: but yon captive dame, I mean + Andromache, on Helenus bestowed + In marriage, in Molossia’s land must dwell, + And her young son, the only royal branch + Which of the stem of Æacus remains; + From him in long succession shall a race + Of happy kings Molossia’s sceptre wield: + Nor will our progeny, O aged man, + Be utterly extinct, when blended thus + With Ilion, still protected by the gods, + Though by Minerva’s stratagems it fell. + But, as for thee, that thou mayst know the blessing + Of having wedded me, who am by birth + A goddess and the daughter of a god, + From all the ills which wait on human life + Releasing, thee immortal will I make + And incorruptible; with me a goddess + In Nereus’ watery mansions thou a god + Hereafter shalt reside, and from the waves + Emerging with dry feet, behold our son + Achilles, to his parents justly dear, + Inhabiting that isle whose chalky coasts + Are laved by the surrounding Euxine deep. + But go to Delphi’s city by the gods + Erected, thither bear this weltering corse, + And when thou hast interred it, to this land + Return, and in that cave which through the rock + Of Sepia time hath worn, thy station keep + Till from the waves I with my sister choir + The fifty Nereids come, to bear thee hence. + Thou must endure the woe’s imposed by fate, + For thus hath Jove ordained. But cease to grieve + For the deceased: for by the righteous gods + The same impartial sentence is awarded + To the whole human race, and death’s a debt + Which all must pay. + + PEL. Hail, venerable dame, + Daughter of Nereus, my illustrious wife: + For what thou dost is worthy of thyself, + And of thy progeny. I cease to grieve + At thy command, O goddess, and will go, + Soon as my grandson’s corse I have interred, + To Pelion’s cave, where first thy beauteous form + I in these arms received. The man whose choice + Is by discretion guided, should select + A consort nobly born, and give his daughters + To those of virtuous families, nor wish + To wed a damsel sprung from worthless sires, + Though to his house a plenteous dower she bring: + So shall he ne’er incur the wrath of Heaven. + + CHOR. A thousand shapes our varying fates assume, + The gods perform what we could least expect, + And oft the things for which we fondly hoped + Come not to pass: but Heaven still finds a clue + To guide our steps through life’s perplexing maze. + And thus does this important business end. + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77336 *** |