m 
 
 M^ 
 
CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 
Cornell University Library 
 PA 3827. A26 1890 
 
 ieven plays. 
 
 3 1924 026 461 339 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of tliis book is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924026461339 
 
^SCHYLUS 
 
Uniform with this Volume. 
 
 SOPHOCLES. 
 
 THE SEVEN PLAYS 
 
 IN ENGLISH VERSE. 
 
 BY 
 LEWIS CAMPBELL, M.A., LL.D. 
 
 London TKegan Paul, Trench, Trubner & Co., LtD_ 
 
^SCHYLUS 
 
 THE SEVEN PLAYS 
 
 IN ENGLISH VERSE 
 
 LEWIS CAMPBELL, M.A., LL.D. 
 
 PROFESSOR OF GREEK IN THE UNIVERSITY OF ST. ANDREWS 
 
 " The harmonious mind 
 Poured itself forth in all-prophetic song." 
 
 Shelley, Prom. Unbotind. 
 
 " Hearted in each heart, 
 Athenai, undisgraced as Pallas' self." 
 
 R. Browning, Aristoph. Apology. 
 
 LONDON 
 
 KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER & CO., Lt?. 
 1890 
 
X 
 
 (The rights of translation and c/ reproduction an risirved.) 
 
TO MRS. FLEEMING JENKIN. 
 
 Dear Mrs. Jenkin, 
 
 You saw the beginning of this work, and but 
 for you, I doubt if it would ever have been begun. You 
 have been kindly interested in its progress, and, in re- 
 vising it, I have owed much to your friendly criticism. 
 To whom, then, can it more fittingly be inscribed ? 
 I remain, ever yours sincerely, 
 
 Lewis Campbell. 
 
 a 3 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 Verse translations are rather out df favour. But 
 lovers at once of Greek tragedy and of English 
 dramatic poetry will not be warned from the 
 attempt, so far as ^schylus and Sophocles are 
 concerned. And in publishing the present volume 
 I am encouraged by the kind reception which, on 
 the whole, has been accorded to "Sophocles in 
 English Verse." 
 
 Three of the plays there printed (" Trachiniae," * 
 " Electra," f " Aias " |) have been acted before 
 appreciative audiences, and two others (" King 
 CEdipus,"§ "Antigone" II) were selected to assist 
 the spectators at performances of the original 
 
 * Edinburgh, 1877. t Capetown, 1889. 
 
 t St. Andrews, 1890. § Harvard, U.S.A., i88l. 
 
 II Toronto, Canada, 1882. 
 
VIU ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 Greek. Two compilers of anthologies have taken 
 extracts from the dialogue * and from lyric pas- 
 s*ges,t and other uses of my work have been 
 made, to which, as they are less distinctly acknow- 
 ledged, I need not explicitly refer. 
 
 It was in consequence of the production of 
 the "Trachiniae" in 1877 (the first of a series 
 of revivals) that I was asked by the late Prof 
 Fleeming Jenkin to translate the " Choephoroe," 
 and, some time afterwards, the " Agamemnon ; " 
 which, with the omission of some choral passages, 
 was produced by him in May, 1880. The task, 
 then happily commenced, has been continued since 
 at intervals of leisure. The whole had nearly 
 taken shape before the appearance of three im- 
 portant works — Mr. Tucker's " Supplices," Dr. 
 Wecklein's " Oresteia," and an edition of the " Aga- 
 memnon " by Dr. Verrall, of Trinity College, Cam- 
 bridge. In revising my translation, I have taken 
 hints from them all ; but it will be readily under- 
 stood that I have not been able to make as full 
 use of any of these books as I might probably 
 • W. J. Linton, vol ii. \ A. \V. Pollard. 
 
AD VER TISEMENT. ix 
 
 have done, had I been acquainted with them when 
 my own was at an earlier stage. 
 
 The employment of blank verse in some of the 
 " Commatic " passages has been the result of de- 
 liberate choice. For the most part I have retained 
 antistrophic effects. But I have abstained from 
 numbering strophes and antistrophes, from a feel- 
 ing that in English verse such correspondences 
 ought to be felt, not seen. 
 
 The numbering of the Greek lines, inserted for 
 convenience* sake at the top of each page, is taken 
 from Dindorf's edition (1847). 
 
 In revising the proofs I have had valuable assist- 
 ance from my friend and colleague. Professor Seth. 
 
 L. CAMPBELL. 
 
PREFATORY NOTE. 
 
 Twice within human memory have great poets 
 been heartily satisfied with the time in which they 
 lived. The love of Dante for Florence, or of 
 Milton for the people of England, was associated 
 with an ideal not yet realized, and, like Victor 
 Hugo's proud affection for the city of Paris, was 
 dashed with bitter experiences in the recent past. 
 But of Spenser and Shakespeare in England, and 
 of .(Eschylus in Hellas, it may be said that, for 
 them, the ideal and the actual were interfused. 
 They imagined nothing better than that the glory 
 of Athens or of the reign of Elizabeth might 
 spread and continue. The exultation of Virgil and 
 Horace in the rule of Augustus is less unmingled, 
 and less intensely real. And the pride which 
 .^schylus took in the glory of Athens was associ- 
 ated with a profound religious feeling. The secret 
 of her triumph was, as he regarded it, that principle 
 of Right, which is the corner-stone of civilization. 
 
Xll PREFATORY NOTE. 
 
 and alone makes national life worth living. And 
 he found the sanction of that principle in the 
 religion of Hellas, which he interpreted as an 
 Eleusinian mystic, perhaps also an Orphic or Py- 
 thagorean theosophist, and certainly as an original 
 thinker and prophet. His epitaph * shows that he 
 was first a citizen and soldier, and then a poet, 
 although he is not for that reason less a poet. His 
 admirer, Aristophanes,! describes him as "nourished 
 in spirit by Demeter and her mysteries." What 
 else he was, we have to gather from his plays. 
 
 As a minister of Dionysus in his great festival, 
 at a time when Chcerilus, Pratinas, and Phrynichus 
 had already developed the art of Thespis into a 
 lyrical drama, he came upon the scene with a 
 strength of conviction only rivalled by the splen- 
 dour of his imagination. His mind soared far 
 beyond the reach of his contemporaries, but he 
 more than satisfied them by the concrete form in 
 which his thoughts were presented. 
 
 Imagination works by contrast, and to emphasize 
 the fame of Athens he took his audience back into a 
 time when the claim of the Suppliant for protection 
 could still be matter for debate, while the marriage 
 
 * " This monument in Gela's fruitful plain 
 Doth yEschylus, Euphorion's son, contain. 
 Of Athens he ; — whose might the Mede will own, 
 That met him on the field of Marathon." 
 
 t Ar. Frogs, 884, 885. 
 
PREFATORY ^OTE. xiii 
 
 law was not yet fixed, or away to a region in 
 which liberty was not yet born, nor the reign of 
 law inaugurated, making them sympathize with 
 the sorrow of the alien people whom they had 
 conquered. Or, again, by holding up to them the 
 patriotism of Eteocles and the piety of Amphiaraus 
 he took a more direct way of inspiring their zeal, 
 at the same time reminding them, through the 
 unnatural horrors of the house of Thebes, of the 
 domestic sanctities that had been so violated in 
 early days. Once more, as in the " Oresteia," he 
 exhibited a pageant of wild justice, ending with 
 the triumph of equity ; or, as in the " Prometheus " 
 trilogy, he sought to raise his audience to a 
 height from which they might contemplate Deity 
 in the making. But over all there reigned one 
 thought, one image, one dominant idea : the idea 
 of righteousness, as the goal towards which all 
 human actions are inevitably drawn or driven : the 
 resultant of all forces, whether consentaneous or 
 opposed ; the rewarder, the punisher, the final 
 reconciler. Meanwhile, tragedy proper was being 
 created — only once again to be renewed in equal 
 strength when Shakespeare wrote his Hamlet, Lear, 
 Othello, and Macbeth. The growth of this young 
 giant goes on apace from the " Persse " to the 
 " Septem," from the " Septem " to the " Agamem- 
 non " and " Choephorce ; " in which last plays, as 
 
 b 
 
XIV PREFATORY NOTE. 
 
 Fleeming Jenkin said with pardonable exaggeration, 
 " the real Greek drama " for the first time appears. 
 
 "In the scenes with Cassandra before the murder, and 
 with Clytemnestra afterwards, the poet was swept away 
 by his dramatic feelings, and in writing these scenes he 
 invented the real Greek drama, not by plan aforethought, 
 but by the inspiration of his subject. In form he adheres 
 to an address from one actor to the Chorus, but the spirit 
 is changed. The arrival of Agamemnon, the prophecy 
 of Cassandra, the murder of the King, and the boast of 
 Clytemnestra form a real dramatic representation of a 
 fact happening then and there. The chorus changed its 
 character,* and the words assigned to it might have been 
 spoken by a few persons on the stage. They became 
 actors, whereas before they had been alternately singers 
 of a sacred hymn and listeners to set speeches. The 
 proposition that .^schylus invented a new art while 
 writing the ■" Agamemnon ' is not a mere figure of speech. 
 The ' Choephoroi,' which follows, is a complete drama 
 from beginning to end. The Chorus takes part in the 
 action throughout, and, when the stage was empty, recited 
 only such short poems as might serve to divide acts. In 
 its arrangement the ' Choephoroi' might have been planned 
 by Sophocles ! As usual, when we pass from one artistic 
 form to that next evolved, something was gained, some- 
 thing lost. As a dramatic entertainment, far more was 
 gained than lost ; and if even now the ' Agamemnon ' 
 
 * This remark needs qualification. The part of the Chorus, like 
 all else, is more dramatically handled ; but the Chorus is not more, 
 but, if anything, less prominent as a person of the drama than in the 
 " Supplices" and " Persos," 
 
PREFATORY NOTE. xv 
 
 and ' Choephoroi ' were successively acted, the spectators 
 would, we venture to say, prefer the later play. The 
 long hymns of the ' Agamemnon,' so beautiful to read, 
 would be a trifle dull recited by bands of performers. The 
 declamation of the single actor about the taking of Troy, 
 or the shipwreck of Menelaus, magnificent poetry as it is, 
 would be somewhat like a reading of Milton ; we should 
 admire, but remain cold. The play would not begin till 
 Agamemnon arrived, and it would be over by the time 
 Clytemnestra had finished her great speech after Aga- 
 memnon's death. In the ' Choephoroi,' on the contrary, 
 the interest is dramatic from first to last. The return of 
 Orestes, the present woe of Electra, the recognition of 
 the brother and sister, the invocation of Agamemnon, 
 whose hidden shade listens to son and daughter, the 
 meeting of Clytemnestra and her son, the death of 
 ^gisthus, the pleading for life or death between mother 
 and son, with the final frenzy of Orestes, form one un- 
 broken chain of domestic scenes of the most perfect 
 kind, ending in a climax far finer than that of the ' Aga- 
 memnon.' Yet the translations of the ' Agamemnon ' 
 outnumber those of the ' Choephoroi ' perhaps by ten to 
 one, precisely because the ' Agamemnon ' is as much a 
 poem as a drama, while the ' Choephoroi ' is above all a 
 play." * 
 
 In what remains of this note I propose to touch 
 briefly on ^schylus' manner of conceiving and 
 presenting (i) Mythology and Legend, (2) Crime 
 and Retribution, (3) War, (4) the Popular Will 
 {vox populi), (5) the Characters of Women, (6) the 
 * " Papers of Fleeming Jenkin," vol. i., p. 18. 
 
XVI PREFATORY NOTE. 
 
 State of the Dead ; and to conclude with a few 
 remarks on the seven extant tragedies. 
 
 I. Mythology. — Many students of ^schylus have 
 been struck with the boldness of his innovations 
 in mythology. Herodotus observes (ii. 156) that 
 ^schylus alone of poets has made Artemis the 
 daughter of Demeter ; and he accuses him of 
 taking this from the Egyptians.* Nor is the poet 
 consistent with himself Themis in the " Prome- 
 theus " is the same with Earth ; t in the " Eume- 
 nides," she is Earth's daughter. These and similar 
 facts are puzzling to those who have not realized 
 the different parts borne by mythology and custom 
 severally in Greek religious life. The same people 
 who went mad about the mutilation of the Hermae 
 could revel in such free handling of Divine persons 
 as we find in the Old Comedy. The truth is, 
 that while religious custom lay upon them with a 
 weight almost as deep as life, the changing clouds 
 of mythology rested lightly on their minds, and were 
 in their very nature, to some extent, the sport of 
 fancy and imagination. This gave a " liberty of 
 prophesying," of which .lEschylus was not slow to 
 avail himself The mythopoeic instinct was still at 
 work in him, and suggested to him imaginative 
 
 * I.e. Isis = Demeter, Eubastis = Artemis. 
 + Prometheus, as a Titan, was a son of Earth, but for symbolic 
 purposes he must be son of Themis. 
 
PREFATORY NOTE. xvu 
 
 modes of giving plastic shape to thoughts that lay 
 deep within his mind, and were already " touched 
 with emotion." 
 
 Legend. — His treatment of legendary history is 
 likewise free. In spite of Epic tradition, Mycenae 
 and Sparta are expunged from the map of Hellas 
 for the period of the Trojan War. Agamemnon 
 and Menelaus are joint Kings of Argos. In the 
 "Supplices " the poet carries us back to a still earlier 
 time, when King Pelasgus ruled all the region 
 southward from Epirus and Thrace, making Argos 
 the centre of his government. Similarly in the 
 " Niobe," Tantalus described the limits of his Phry- 
 gian Kingdom.* Such instances afford strong illus- 
 tration both of the unfixed condition of Greek 
 heroic legend, and of the boldness of ^.schylus in 
 his employment of it. 
 
 2. Crime and Retribution. — The plays of ^schy- 
 lus may well be left to read their own moral. Each 
 drama presents a special aspect of the interplay of 
 character and destiny. But in order to catch the 
 peculiar ethical note in this great poet it is worth 
 while to compare him for a moment with Herodotus. 
 In the moral world which the historian loves to 
 paint, not pride merely, but prosperity of itself 
 insures a fall. The Xerxes of Herodotus works 
 his own destruction, it is true ; but he is brought 
 * Fr. 15s (Dindorf.) 
 
XVIII PREFATORY NOTE. 
 
 to this by the irresistible leadings of a Divine 
 power. " It was to be so " (eSa oiirw ysvlirflat) ; and 
 when the good counsel of Artabanus had all but 
 prevailed, the dream was sent by God to bring it 
 to naught. The Xerxes of .^Eschylus falls under 
 the censure of Dareius for his impious recklessness 
 in listening to evil counsellors, which had hastened 
 on the destruction which had been prophesied indeed, 
 but might otherwise have been delayed. The poet 
 here already diverges from the crude notion of 
 Nemesis and Divine envy, from which he makes 
 the Chorus of the "Agamemnon" explicitly dissent, 
 contending that sin (Agam. 722, ff.), and not pros- 
 perity, is the prime cause of ruin. But when the ' 
 ruin falls, it falls not on the individual alone. The 
 solidarity of the family prevents that : and the con- 
 sequence of one man's crime may be a curse that 
 weighs upon a late posterity. Yet heroic character 
 may be evinced even beneath the crushing burden 
 of hereditary evil ; and of this Orestes and Eteocles 
 are examples. Orestes is saved so as by fire. For 
 he acted under a Divine impulse, and his intention 
 was just. Eteocles is carried down into the whirl- 
 pool of fraternal hatred, under the stress of his 
 father's curse. Yet his nobleness is not effaced. 
 For he has saved his country. Lastly, .^schylus 
 holds that Justice will triumph, but not necessarily 
 now. Goodness shall be vindicated, but in the end 
 
PREFATORY NOTE. xix 
 
 of things.* The endurance of Prometheus is en- 
 tirely noble. He suffers, but he will not repent. 
 For the eye of Themis, his mother, Goddess of 
 Right, beholds that he is suifering unjustly. 
 
 3. War. — The finest soldiers have always been 
 most alive to the horrors of the battlefield, and 
 .^schylus is not an exception. Tolstoi's Prince 
 Andrd hardly goes beyond him in this. The de- 
 scriptions in " War and Peace " are more extended, 
 but not more vivid, than Clytemnestra's imagining 
 of the state of things in Troy after its capture, or 
 the Theban women's apprehension of what happens 
 in the sacking of a town. And in more than one 
 place our poet has anticipated the peculiarly 
 modern feeling that great conquerors have much 
 to answer for. Even in the day of victory it is not 
 forgotten that the victor is " a man of blood," nor 
 that king-made wars are oppressive to the people. 
 
 4. Vox populi. — And a people's curse is to be 
 
 * For a kindred thought, see Robert Browning's poems, especially 
 the " Reverie" in " Asolando," concluding with the words— 
 
 " I have faith such end shall be : 
 
 From the first, Power was — I knew. 
 
 Life has made clear to me 
 
 That, strive but for closer view. 
 
 Love were as plain to see. 
 
 " When see ? When there dawns a day. 
 If not on the homely earth, 
 Then yonder, worlds away, 
 
 Where the strange and new have birth. 
 And Power comes full in play." 
 
XX PREFATORY NOTE. 
 
 feared. Even King Pelasgus must consult his 
 citizens, before committing himself to a righteous 
 cause. He is less absolute than Theseus in 
 Sophocles. To the astonishment of Atossa it is 
 told that the Athenians have no master, and are 
 all the better soldiers for it. Eteocles, who has 
 no other fear, fears the censure of the citizens, if he 
 should fail. The murmurs of the folk form one of 
 the many elements of gloom in the " Agamemnon." 
 And the falling away of popular respect and awe 
 from the royal house is one of the premonitions 
 of the fate of Clytemnestra and .^gisthus. In 
 .^schylus there is still the glad consciousness of 
 new-found freedom, at one with law ; whereas in 
 Sophocles we trace something of the reaction to- 
 wards oligarchy from the abuse of liberty. A 
 different, not an inconsistent, note is struck in the 
 " Eumenides," where it appears that the security of a 
 people's sovereignty rests on the due observance 
 of law and equity. And in the " Prometheus " yet a 
 higher strain is heard, — that all power, apart from 
 wise beneficence, must come to naught. 
 
 5. Women. — The genius of.iEschylus is essenti- 
 ally masculine, and the place of women in his 
 world is subordinate. He regards them with the 
 tenderness of a strong nature, but the tenderness 
 of sympathy is tinged with conscious superiority. 
 The only strong woman in his extant plays is 
 
PREFATORY NOTE. XXI 
 
 Clytemnestra, the murderess, whose death remains 
 unavenged : for the character of his Antigone is 
 undeveloped ; and his Electra is pathetically 
 feminine, and not like the Sophoclean heroine. 
 The Trojan captives of the "Choephoroe" are pro- 
 foundly embittered, and their vindictiveness is 
 intense. They can incite to violence : — but they 
 do not act in their own persons. The Lemnian 
 women, in one of the lost dramas, must have 
 been likewise fierce. The Danaldes, in the play 
 called after them, must have proved capable of 
 action in the last resort ; but in the " Supplices,'' the 
 same persons are full of trepidation, and wholly 
 dependent on their father's counsel. The Chorus 
 in the " Seven against Thebes " are also markedly 
 feminine. Their flurry and feverish excitement 
 form the dramatic contrast to the manly self- 
 possession of Eteocles, who treats them sternly, 
 yet now and then with gentleness. But of all 
 dramatic contrasts, that of Cassandra at once to 
 Clytemnestra and Agamemnon is the most affect- 
 ing. The fierce determination of the vengeful 
 Queen is set in the most lurid possible light by 
 her innocent victim, the most pathetic figure on 
 the Greek or any stage. Cassandra has often 
 been misconceived. Because of her prophetic gift 
 she has been mistaken, as she herself prophetic- 
 ally complains, for a bold "beggar priestess," 
 
xxil PREFATORY NOTE. 
 
 "a forward babbler at the door" (Agam. 1274, 
 119s). Because she foresees horrors, and quakes 
 before them, she is imagined as a ranting fury. 
 But the evil which she foretells falls with equal 
 weight on Agamemnon and herself, and although 
 one single allusion to the Avenger is wrung from 
 her at last, the thought uppermost in the spec- 
 tator's mind throughout has been, or should have 
 been, " Oh, the pity of it ! " " The dainty princess, 
 the wise prophetess, the beloved of deity, lost, 
 ruined, fallen ! " As the Chorus observe, upon her 
 exit, " This is more piteous than the ruin of 
 pride." lo's retrospect of her misfortunes has a 
 peculiar pathos, and the daughters of Oceanus, at 
 once superhuman and compassionate, trembling 
 with awe and dread, yet not to be divided in 
 extremity from the sublime sufferer, afford one 
 more example of the range of the poet's imagina- 
 tion, and of the tenderness and depth of his con- 
 ception of the " Ewig-weibliche." His treatment 
 of women in the extant plays makes us regret the 
 loss of his " Niobe " and his " CalHsto." * 
 
 6. State of the Dead. — .^schylus' belief in a 
 future state (if the expression may be allowed) 
 
 * See Matthew Arnold's " Dramatic and Later Poems " (Merope), 
 pp. 98-100 — 
 
 " But his mother, Callisto, 
 • * • * 
 
 The guard-watched Bear.' 
 
PREFATORY NOTE. xxiii 
 
 suggests a condition less shadowy than that im- 
 plied in the Homeric poems, — less real, but also 
 less remote from the concerns of this life, than that 
 set forth by Sophocles. The grave of CEdipus (in 
 the CEd. Col.) was to have a magical power, and 
 he looks forward with satisfaction to the blood of 
 his enemies saturating his corpse. This notion, 
 however, stands alone in Sophocles, and it is not 
 so much a thought of the poet's own, as one of the 
 data of the fable on which he drew. But Atossa 
 in approaching the monument of Dareius, Orestes 
 and Electra at their father's tomb, have the firmest 
 belief that when the libation has been poured, the 
 spirit of the dead will be revived and hear. He is 
 present there in a peculiar sense, returning to the 
 spot of earth where the body has been laid. On 
 the other hand, the Ghost of Clytemnestra in the 
 " Eumenides " is only a shade, and Dareius bids his 
 ancient comrades make the most of life even amid 
 sorrows, seeing that there is no gladness in the 
 grave whither they must go.* The state to which 
 Antigone looks forward is different from this, more 
 substantial, although perchance as ineffectual. She 
 will be herself there, and will find her kindred — 
 not their shadows only. The manner of speech is 
 different, and conveys a different belief. Other 
 touches here and there in ^schylus seem to 
 * See also Choeph. 
 
XXIV PREFATORY NOTE. 
 
 involve some communication between the dead and 
 living : as when Clytemnestra says that the spirits 
 of the Trojan dead may " cross the homeward 
 way " for the victorious Greeks ; or where the 
 Danaldes claim the help of Epaphus, though so far 
 away. 
 
 7. Humour.— 'Yh^e: broad humour which peers 
 through the tragic business of the Choephorce in 
 the speech of the Nurse, must have been richly 
 exemplified in ^schylus' Satyric dramas. Perhaps 
 the most characteristic remnant of it is the frag- 
 ment of the " Fire-kindling Prometheus," where the 
 Satyr, in playing with the strange element, is in 
 danger of burning off his beard. That something 
 of the grand manner remained even here, appears 
 from the fragment where the sounds of the " bull- 
 roarer,'' or some exercise of the human voice 
 resembling them, are described as Tavp6<j)6oyyoi 
 (j>of3ipol fiifxoi. " Dread imitative bull-like bellow- 
 ings." This may belong, as Hermann thought, to 
 the tragic treatment of Bacchic rites in the 
 " Lycurgeia." But it affords a valuable indication 
 of the spirit in which .^Eschylus approached the 
 essentially Dionysiac aspect of his art. Other 
 rustic or quasi-comic touches are the figure of the 
 Watchman in the " Agamemnon," and that of the 
 Herald in the " Suppliants." 
 
 The Plays. — {i)"Tke Sufpliants." — There is no 
 
PREFATORY NOTE. xxv 
 
 record of the first performance of the " Supplices," 
 nor is it possible to say whether, if it were one of 
 a trilogy, it was the first or second drama. That 
 it was not the third may be gathered from its 
 apparent connexion with the lost play of the 
 " Danafdes," to which it must have led the way. A 
 certain natvet^ of presentation, and also the rudi- 
 mentary character of the moral and religious 
 elements, as well as the prevalence of lyric mea- 
 sures and the prominent part taken by the Chorus, 
 justify us in regarding this as an early play. 
 
 (2) "Perscs." — The " Persae " was first put on the 
 stage in 472, seven years after Plataea. It stands 
 alone amongst the extant tragedies in treating, not 
 myth or legend, but solid history, and history which 
 the dramatist himself had helped to make. But 
 an ideal treatment is secured by the imaginative 
 reversal of the ordinary Hellenic point of view, the 
 great struggle being represented, not as it affected 
 Hellas, but as it must have reacted on the 
 Persian Court. No Greek is mentioned by name 
 throughout the play. The " Persae " was the central 
 tragedy of three that were produced at the same 
 time — the " Phineus," " Persae," and " Glaucus of 
 Potniae " — together with the Satyric drama of 
 " Prometheus with the Fire," referred to above. 
 There is no apparent connexion between the sub- 
 jects, and it is not certain that there was any such 
 
xxvi PREFATORY NOTE. 
 
 organic connexion between the plays as in the 
 case of the " Lycurgeia," the " CEdipodeia," and 
 the " Oresteia." 
 
 (3) "Seven against Thebes!' — The " Seven against 
 Thebes " was long believed to be the second drama 
 of three, as the conclusion points forward either to 
 an "Antigone" or an " EpigonL" It is now known 
 to have been the third and concluding tragedy of 
 the " CEdipodeia," being preceded by a " Laius '' 
 and an " CEdipus." This shows that ^schylus did 
 not yet round off his trilogies so completely as he 
 has done in that which happily remains entire. It 
 also proves that the " drama of reconciliation " was 
 not necessary to an ^schylean trilogy. 
 
 (4, 5, 6) The " Or^stem."— The " CEdipodeia" was 
 performed in 467 B.C. Between this and the pro- 
 duction of the " Agamemnon," " Choephoroe," and 
 " Eumenides," there was an interval of nine years, 
 which must have been well and fruitfully employed. 
 For there is more of thought and power in these 
 than in all the preceding plays. 
 
 (7) The Promethean Trilogy. — The precise date 
 of the Promethean trilogy is unknown. But the 
 structure and versification are not in the poet's 
 earlier manner. And in the allusion to the 
 eruption of .^tna and some other minute points, 
 critics have found traces of his visit to Sicily, 
 which is said to have taken place between 472 and 
 
PREFATORY NOTE. xxvii 
 
 468 B.C. " Prometheus " Is put last, not as being 
 necessarily later than the " Oresteia," but as being 
 sui generis amongst the extant dramas, belonging 
 to the class of superhuman plays, which included 
 also the " Psychostasia," and perhaps the " Niobe," 
 and to which the " Eumenides " is partially related. 
 For further remarks, the reader is referred to the 
 short introductions prefixed to the several plays. 
 
 A few brief notes are added at the end of the 
 volume, with references to the lines of the Greek 
 text, as numbered by Dindorf. In cases where 
 the translation follows an unusual reading or inter- 
 pretation, it seemed desirable that readers should 
 be apprised of the fact ; the more so as the trans- 
 lator has not published an edition of ^schylus in 
 the Greek. Many obscure places, of course, are 
 thus left unnoticed, for which Paley's or some other 
 commentary must be consulted. And of some 
 difficulties, though not of very many, the solution 
 is not yet found. 
 
THE SUPPLIANTS. 
 
 PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. 
 
 Chorus of Dandides (daughters of Danaiis). 
 
 Danaus. 
 
 Pelasgus, the Kt7ig. 
 
 The Herald of the Sons of ^gyptus. 
 
 Aitendafit filaidens. 
 
 Scene — a sacred place between Argos and the sea. 
 Time — ^prehistoric. 
 
^SCHYLUS is fond of contemplating morality in the making. By 
 throwing back imagination to a time when ' ' what is now Hellas 
 was Pelasgia,'' and Argos was the metropolis of a kingdom extend- 
 ing from Epirus to Cape Taenarum, he is able to represent the 
 protection of the suppliant as a duty that was still open to debate, 
 and also to recall an inchoate stage of the laws respecting marriage, 
 and so to prepare for the interesting theme of the " Danal'des," 
 of which the only considerable fragment is part of the defence of 
 Hypermnestra (or of Aphrodite on her behalf) 7or her " splendid 
 perfidy " in sparing her cousin-bridegroom, Lynceus, from assassina- 
 tion on the marriage night. 
 
 " The holy Heaven longs for Earth's yielding breast. 
 Earth inly yearns to feel the fond embrace. 
 Heaven melting then descends in genial rain, 
 Quickening Earth's womb, that bears, to bless mankind, 
 Demeter's gifts, and yeanling flocks that graze. 
 From that moist marriage-rite the woods put on 
 Their pomp. The fault of Earth and Heaven is mine." 
 
 The legend of lo, which forms the background of the story, con- 
 nects the subject of this drama with that of the "Prometheus 
 Bound." 
 
 Danaiis and his daughters have just landed on the coast of 
 Argolis. They are met by King Pelasgus, to whom the Danaides 
 present their credentials of Argive descent, craving sanctuary from 
 the violence of the sons of .lEgyptus, who are seeking them in mar- 
 riage. After some parleying, the king and his people undertake to 
 give them refuge and protection. Then the sons of jEgyptus are 
 seen approaching. They are preceded by a Herald who demands 
 the persons of the maidens. He is repulsed, but threatens war, 
 and the play ends doubtfully, one half of the Chorus, no doubt in- 
 cluding Hypermnestra, appearing not altogether disinclined to 
 yield to the inevitable seizure. 
 
THE SUPPLIANTS. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Let the lord of suppliants smile 
 
 On our ship-borne train, who come 
 From the sand-heapt mouths of Nile, 
 
 Wafted o'er the wide sea-foam ! 
 Exiles from the sacred land 
 
 Bordering Syria's meads, we flee, 
 Not for guilt of murder banned 
 
 By a people's just decree, 
 But because we durst not wed 
 
 With ^gyptus' sons, our kin. 
 Hating with a holy dread 
 
 Thought of that enforced sin. 
 Danaiis then, our prudent sire. 
 
 Weighing all the desperate game. 
 Taking part with our desire. 
 
 Deemed it best, as least in blame, — 
 Noblest in a choice of woe, — 
 
 Launching forth in checkless flight. 
 
THE SUPPLIANTS. [iS-34' 
 
 Through the briny wave to go, 
 Guarded by a father's right, 
 Till we trode this Argive strand, 
 
 Whence we trace our boasted line 
 Through the touch of Zeus's hand 
 
 And his gentle breath divine, 
 Freeing lo from the pest 
 
 Of the biting breese, that drave 
 That poor heifer, robbed of rest, 
 
 Over lands and seas to rave. 
 Where then should we wanderers find 
 For our need a soil more kind ? 
 Whither else direct our way 
 Armed with wreaths, the suppliants' stay ? 
 Land and city, stainless streams, 
 
 Gods that overlook this clime ; 
 Tombs that hide, withdrawn from dreams, 
 
 Honoured souls of eldest time : 
 Zeus, great Saviour of pure homes, 
 
 Worshipped third when wine is poured, — 
 Kindly entrance 'neath yon domes 
 
 May ye one and all afford, 
 Breathing mercy from your land 
 On our female suppliant band, — 
 Ere our father's brother's race, 
 Forcing an abhorred embrace, 
 Make their own in our despite 
 Wedlock barred by Heaven and Right. 
 Ere their feet have touched your plain 
 Send them coursing o'er the main 
 
35-65 •] THE SUPPLIANTS. 
 
 Lashed with rainy winds, and driven 
 By hot thunderbolts from Heaven, 
 Till they founder 'mid the sweep 
 Of the wildly weltering deep. 
 
 Divine Protector, now beyond the sea. 
 
 Son of the highest, the wandering heifer's child, — 
 For while she roamed, and cropped the flowery lea, 
 
 Zeus breathed on her, and, ever undefiled, 
 She felt the touch that filled her veins with thee. 
 And made her to be mother of us all ; 
 Epaphus, named of Fate, on thee we call ! 
 
 Here, mindful of our ancient mother's woes. 
 Amid these grassy fields, her pasturage. 
 
 Clear present proofs of birth we shall disclose ; 
 And all the past, a weird miraculous page. 
 
 Strange as the trouble whence our race arose, 
 
 Convincing even to doubters shall appear ; 
 
 Let but the people lend a patient ear. 
 
 Haply some bird-diviner in the vale 
 Of Argolis, perceiving our sad plaint. 
 
 Shall think he hears the pity-moving wail 
 Of Tereus' wife, mourning without restraint. 
 
 The hawk-pursued, despairing nightingale. 
 
 She mourns the strangeness of an alien land. 
 Of alien streams ; but more for that wild blow, - 
 
6 THE SUPPLIANTS. [66-89. 
 
 Unnaturally stricken, unwisely planned, 
 
 That gave her son his timeless overthrow, 
 Felled by a cruel mother's wrathful hand. 
 
 I too, like her, in soft Ionian numbers. 
 
 Indulging sorrow, tear this tender cheek 
 By Egypt's suns embrowned, and wake from slumbers 
 
 Of careless maidenhood a heart once weak — 
 Unexercised in pain. I cull from grief 
 
 Soul-moving strains, fear-smitten to the core 
 By mine own kin, and pleading for relief 
 
 In this my flight from yonder faint-blue shore. 
 
 Who cares for me ? Gods of our lineage proud, 
 
 Listen with heed ; look on the righteous cause I 
 Yield not our flower to lordship unallowed ; 
 
 True to yourselves, uphold grave Hymen's laws. 
 And ban rude violence. Even in war 
 
 Afflicted wights find shelter and sure hold 
 Beside your altars — evermore a bar 
 
 To lawless force, by fear of Heaven controlled. 
 
 Let highest in mind be most in might. 
 
 The choice of Zeus what charm may bind ? 
 His thought, 'mid Fate's mysterious night, 
 
 A growing blaze against tlie wind 
 Prevails : — whate'er the nations say. 
 His purpose holds its darkling way. 
 
90-H7.] THE SUPPLIANTS. 
 
 What thing his nod hath ratified 
 
 Stands fast, and moves with firm sure tread, 
 Nor sways, nor swerves, nor starts aside. 
 
 A mazy thicket, hard to thread, 
 A labyrinth undiscovered still. 
 The far-drawn windings of his will 
 
 Down from proud towers of hope 
 
 He throws infatuate men, 
 Nor needs, to reach his boundless scope. 
 
 The undistressful pain 
 Of godlike effort ; on his holy seat 
 He thinks, and all is done, even as him seems most meet. 
 
 Let him behold and see 
 
 What crookfed thoughts of crime 
 That swarthy brood, flushed with desire of me, 
 
 Plan in their youthful prime, — 
 Stung with mad passions in resistless throng, 
 And never, save through loss, to be convinced of wrong. 
 
 I all the while, lamenting this dire lot 
 
 With cries and groans, and salt tears streaming hot. 
 
 In sounds beseeming dirges for the dead, — 
 
 Ah well-a-day ! the mourner's way, — 
 Grace with this wail my living maidenhead. 
 
THE SUPPLIANTS. [i 18-148. 
 
 Dear land of hills, my voice, though alien grown, 
 Implores thee with a still-remembered tone, 
 While ruthless I destroy with many a rent 
 This muslin veil of Tyrian ornament. 
 
 If all end well, and death remain aloof, 
 Full swiftly shall the gods have ample proof 
 Of grateful hearts with offerings running o'er. 
 
 O troublous hour ! O hidden power ! 
 This swelling wave upbears me — to what shore ? 
 
 Dear land of hills, my voice, though alien grown, 
 Implores thee with a still-remembered tone, 
 While ruthless I destroy with many a rent 
 This muslin veil of Tyrian ornament. 
 
 With harmless wafture of a temperate wind 
 Broad blades of Nile-made bark, papyrus-lined, 
 (Safe convoy o'er an untempestuous sea). 
 Have brought us. Here, shaping the end, may He, 
 The Father all-beholding, lend his grace, 
 
 That lo's high-born race, 
 Saved from dishonouring her from whom they came 
 May 'scape the soilure of their virgin fame. — 
 
 And may his child, Artemis, ever kind. 
 Look on us maidens with a maiden's mind. 
 Defending our unscathed integrity. 
 Pursuing our pursuing foes, may she 
 
149-174]- THE SUPPLIANTS. 
 
 With darts o'erwhelm them from her holy place : 
 
 That lo's high-born race, 
 Saved from dishonouring her from whom they came, 
 May 'scape the soilure of their virgin fame. 
 
 Rather than marry with the men we fear. 
 This dark-hued countenance by Helios burned — 
 If Lords Olympian will not hear — 
 To lowlier Hades shall be turned. 
 To him through strangling will we go, 
 Boon welcomer of wearied souls below, 
 To him these sacred branches bear, 
 Him visit with importunate prayer. 
 Supreme o'er realms of night 
 As Zeus o'er realms of light. 
 Ah, Zeus ! heal lo's ban and bane ! 
 Heaven's large benevolence and counsel sage 
 I find o'erborne by Hera's boisterous rage, — 
 Wind after storm, cloud following rain. 
 
 Zeus then (forbid it. Fate !) would be reviled 
 With blasphemy too hideous to be told. 
 
 How he hath scorned his heifer's child, 
 Begotten by himself of old. 
 His own son Epaphus, whose seed 
 Forsaking in their piteous need. 
 He turns his face from their despair 
 Nor heeds their unavailing prayer. — ■ 
 
THE SUPPLIANTS. ti7S-i9J- 
 
 Nay, bending from on high, 
 Hear thou our inmost sigh ! 
 Ah, Zeus ! heal lo's ban and bane ! 
 Heaven's large benevolence and counsel sage 
 I find o'erborne by Hera's boisterous rage, — 
 Wind after storm, cloud following rain. 
 
 Danaus. 
 
 Dan. Children, take heed — since with good heed ye 
 are come. 
 Through me, that shaped this voyage, your agfed sire ; 
 Whose words, now that ye tread the solid ground. 
 With no less caution grave within your souls. 
 Yon cloud of dust, a silent harbinger. 
 Foretells a coming troop, whose grinding wheels, 
 Whirled on strong axletrees, even now I hear. 
 And now I see with steeds and chariot-rims 
 A shielded host, spearmen in proud array. 
 Methinks the leaders of this land are come 
 To view us, moved by tidings they have heard : 
 It may be, without harm ; it may be, whetted 
 To savage ire they move this army on. 
 In either case, O maidens, 'tis most meet 
 Ye settle on this mound, and supplicate 
 The people's gods that sit in conclave here, — 
 The altar's refuge is a shield of proof, 
 Mightier than fencfed wall. — With swiftest speed 
 Run hither, and, in solemn wise, upholding 
 
I92-2I4-] THE SUPPLIANTS. n 
 
 With your left hands those white-wreathed suppliant 
 
 boughs, 
 Wherein the God of mercy takes delight, 
 Make seemly answer to the stranger men. 
 Telling the motive of your innocent flight, 
 With pity-moving, reverent, pleading words. 
 Becoming such unlooked-for visitants. 
 Let all your accents without boldness fall, 
 And from chaste brows and free, untroubled gaze. 
 Let modesty bespeak your sober mind. 
 In speech be neither sudden nor too slow : 
 Soon ruffled is the race that harbours here. 
 As needy refugees, be it yours to yield. 
 Boldness in speech never became the weak. 
 
 Cho. Thy prudent counsel meets our cautious mood, 
 Dear sire ! And these thy precepts, fraught with 
 
 care. 
 Our memories shall watchfully preserve. 
 Let Zeus, the parent of our race, behold ! 
 
 Dan. Then haste, but firmly hold the wands ye 
 bear. 
 
 Cho. Forthwith I would be seated at thy side. 
 
 Cho. Zeus, save thy suppliants, pity our distress ! 
 Dan. Let him behold you with a gracious eye. 
 Cho. If he vouchsafe, the end shall yet be well. 
 Dan. Now call on this his wingfed messenger. 
 Cho. We call upon the sun's preserving ray. 
 Dan. And Phoebus, once a fugitive from heaven. 
 Cho. Holy Apollo, feel our lot like thine. 
 
12 THE SUPPLIANTS. [215-241. 
 
 Dan. May he regard and zealously defend ! 
 
 Cho. Whom else of this great conclave should I call ? 
 
 Dan. I see the trident here, a god's dread sign. 
 
 Cho. He sped us hither. May he welcome too ! 
 
 Dan. And here is Hermes in his Grecian guise. 
 
 Cho. Herald of good ! May he proclaim us free. 
 
 Dan. Now worship at the shrines of all these lords 
 Conjointly, as ye crowd the sacred place 
 Whereto ye cling like flocking doves that fly 
 From hawks of kindred hue — O hateful kin, 
 That ruffles its own race ! Pollution deep 
 For bird to ravin on bird's flesh ! Pollution 
 Not less profound to force the unwilling bride 
 From her reluctant sire. Not even in death 
 Shall he who hath done it be assoilbd there 
 Of wanton criminality. Men say, 
 Another Zeus beneath, among the dead, 
 Gives final judgment on all wrongful deeds. 
 Be circumspect, and fashion your reply. 
 So that your cause may win deserved success. 
 
 Enter King Pelasgus. 
 
 King. What company peers now before mine eye 
 With manifold Barbaric garments proud, 
 Ungreek in garb, uncouth ? Nor Argolis 
 Nor any Grecian land so robes its women. 
 I marvel how ye came thus fearlessly 
 Unheralded, unharbingered, untended 
 By native guides. Yet duly ye have laid 
 
242-269.] THE SUPPLIANTS. 13 
 
 Your suppliant branches on the altar steps 
 Of all our people's gods assembled here. 
 This point alone argues a Grecian strain. 
 Much else one might conjecture, but fair speech 
 In present conference should make all clear. 
 
 Cho. You note our raiment truly. But to whom 
 Address we this discourse, mere citizen. 
 Or warden of some fane, or chief o' the state ? 
 
 King. When I have said, take heart, and answer me. 
 Earth-born Palaechthon was my sire ; I am named 
 Pelasgus, and bear rule o'er all this land. 
 Whence, rightly named from me their sovereign, 
 Pelasgian are they called who reap these fields. 
 Of all the region Strymon's holy stream 
 Divides, the westward portion owns my power. 
 I reach to the Perrhsebians and the coasts 
 Past Pindus, neighbouring the Paeonian tribe, 
 And the Dodonian mountains. There the sea 
 Sets her moist limit to my sway. I am lord 
 Within those boundaries. But this fair plain 
 Is Apian ground, so called in thankfulness 
 To Apis, a renowned physician here. 
 Who coming, from Naupactus over sea, 
 Apollo's child inspired with healing power, 
 Cleansed all the land from man-destroying plagues 
 Of monsters whom great Earth, infested sore 
 With stains of ancient murder, gave to light. 
 Children of wrath, a clustering serpent-brood. 
 Release therefrom, through searching remedies, 
 Apis eifected for this Argive land, 
 
14 THE SUPPLIANTS. [270-300. 
 
 And won remembrance at each hour of prayer. 
 Ye have my tokens : now declare your own ; 
 Tell forth your pedigree ; unfold your case. 
 But know, this people loves not long discourse. 
 
 Cho. Our tale is brief and clear. Of Argos we 
 Claim lineage — the fair-childed heifer's seed. 
 All this with proofs will I confirm for true. 
 
 King. Unlikely to my hearing sounds your tale, 
 O stranger maids, that Argive is your race. 
 More African than Grecian is your mien. 
 Nowise resembling women native here. 
 Old Nile might nourish such a waterplant 
 The Cyprian likeness may be traced in you 
 Stamped by male artists on a female mould. 
 Or bare ye but the quiver, I might guess 
 Full well that ye were Amazons, who feed 
 On flesh and know not men ; or Indian women. 
 Of whom I hear as wandering far and wide 
 AVith pack-saddles on trotting dromedaries. 
 And dwelling near the Ethiopian folk. 
 Inform me, then, more perfectly, what way 
 Your seed and parent-stock from Argos came. 
 
 Cho. 'Tis said that in this Argive land erewhile 
 lo was doorkeeper of Hera's Fane. 
 
 King. Certes she was ; strong Rumour makes us know. 
 Is't said that Zeus to mortal maid came near ? 
 
 Cho. Yea, and that Hera knew, and would prevent. 
 
 King. How ended such a high-enkindled feud ? 
 
 Cho. Your goddess turned the woman to a cow. 
 
 King. But was the hornfed heifer safe from Zeus ? 
 
301-327.J THE SUPPLIANTS. 
 
 Cho. He took the likeness of a leaping bull. 
 
 King. What then contrived the mighty Queen of 
 
 Heaven ? 
 Cho. She set a sleepless watch, with myriad eyes. 
 King. What all-seeing herdman of one heifer ? Say. 
 Cho. Argus, the child of Earth, — whom Hermes slew. 
 King. What framed she more for the poor cow's annoy ? 
 Cho, A goading gad-fly, giving her no rest. 
 King. 'Tis called the "breese'' by neighbours of the 
 
 Nile. 
 Cho. This drave her, banished, on a distant course. 
 King. Your tale fits smoothly with the truths I know. 
 Cho. Canopus and then Memphis saw her come. 
 
 Cho. Zeus with a finger-touch begat a child. 
 
 King. How then was named the heifer's birth divine ? 
 
 Cho. Named from the touch that gat him, Epaphus. 
 ****** 
 
 Cho. Lybia that holds a wide extent of earth. 
 
 King. What other child of hers hast thou in mind ? 
 
 Cho. Bel, with two sons, sire of my father here. 
 
 King. Of thrilling moment is this name. Declare it. 
 
 Cho. Danaiis, whose brother fifty sons begat. 
 
 King. His name, too, let thy liberal words reveal. 
 
 Cho. ^gyptus. Now thou knowest my primal race. 
 Act therefore as toward Argive visitants. 
 
 King. In truth ye seem to me to be of kin 
 Ancestrally to Argos. But what stroke 
 Of fortune made you leave your native home ? 
 
 Cho. Pelasgian lord, the troubles of mankind 
 
i6 THE SUPPLIANTS. [328-352. 
 
 ^,J!cremanifold. Sorrow hath various hues. 
 Who could foretell this unexpected flight, — 
 That Argos' ancient kindred, a new care, 
 Should touch her strand, shrinking from hateful wed- 
 lock ? 
 
 King. Say, what imports your supplication here, 
 With these fresh branches wreathed with whitest wool. 
 Before the altars of our people's gods ? 
 
 Cho. Not to be subject to ^gyptus' race. 
 
 King. As enemies, or in some infamous bond ? 
 
 Cho. An honourable bond to friends were good. 
 
 King. By such means human strength is multiplied. 
 
 Cho. And severance of such bonds, if things go ill. 
 Is easily accomplished without harm. 
 
 King. How then may I maintain good faith with you 
 Before the gods ? 
 
 Cho. Give us not up again, 
 
 Though they demand it, to ^gyptus' sons. 
 
 King. A heavy task, to take new wars in hand ! 
 
 Cho. Justice protects the champion of the weak. 
 
 King. I had naught to do with these affairs at first. 
 
 Cho. Respect the stern o' the state thus garlanded. 
 
 King. I see those steps o'ershadowed, and I fear. 
 
 Cho. 'Tis danger, when the Zeus of suppliants frowns. — 
 Child of Palsechthon hear ! Accord thine ear ! 
 See us thy suppliants wind our restless flight. 
 Like some poor heifer whom the wolves pursue 
 To inaccessible rocks, where, taking refuge, 
 With piteous lowings, trusting human aid, 
 She tells the herdman her sore trouble. 
 
3S3-382-] THE SUPPLIANTS. 
 
 17 
 
 King. I see 
 
 With wonder your strange company, that shades 
 With boughs fresh-pulled these public altar steps. 
 Would this aifair might leave our common weal 
 Scathless, nor raise unlocked for strife, unsought, 
 To Argos, that of strife hath little need ! 
 
 Cho. Yea, scathless may our refuge prove ! Behold it, 
 Themis of suppliants, daughter of Him who guards 
 All true inheritance ! — Old though thou art. 
 Let thy great mind learn from our youthful lips. 
 Be kind to suppliants and thou shalt not fall. 
 Heaven still regards the offerings of the just. 
 
 King. Ye are not kneeling at my hearth. This people 
 Shall see to it, should pollution touch the state, 
 To find due remedies. Promise from me 
 Ye cannot have, till all our citizens 
 Have heard your cause. 
 
 Cho. Thou art the city, thou 
 
 The sovereign state, thy word without appeal. 
 The city's hearth is thine, her altars come 
 Beneath thy sway, thy mandate all supreme. 
 Thy sceptre ratifies each public act 
 Given from thy throne. Beware of sacrilege ! 
 
 King. May sacrilege attaint mine enemies. 
 I cannot help you without bringing bane. 
 Yet to reject your prayer were savagery. 
 Which answer should I hazard ? Ay or no ? 
 The issue is dark. I am distraught with fears. 
 
 Cho. Think of the eye that scans you from above. 
 Yea, think of him who shields all wretched wights, 
 
i8 THE SUPPLIANTS. [383-414. 
 
 And, when their prayer is baffled, wreaks their wrong. 
 The wrath of Zeus, befriender of the oppressed. 
 Inexorably attends on their complaint. 
 
 King, ^gyptus' sons perchance have rights in you 
 As your next kinsmen. Should they press that claim 
 Under your country's law, who could oppose ? 
 Needs must you plead some clear Egyptian rule 
 That bars your persons from their government. 
 
 Cho. Heaven keep me from the hand of my male 
 kin! 
 Wherever Earth beholds the stars, I will fly 
 That hated wedlock. Choose the pious part. 
 And righteousness supreme shall fight for thee. 
 
 King. Make not me chooser ; for the choice is hard. 
 The state must share my counsel, as I said, 
 Though I be sovereign ; lest my people say. 
 Should aught untoward be sequel to this act, 
 "Honouring chance-comers, thou hast ruined Argos.'' 
 
 Cho. Kinsman to both, determining the event, 
 Zeus holds the scales, assigning rightfully 
 Guilt to the wicked, pureness to the just. 
 What after-trouble is thine, if thou deal justly ? 
 
 King. Deep thought is needed for our safety here, 
 A calm clear eye, serene and temperate. 
 That, like a diver, searches out the abyss, 
 To find an issue scathless for the state. 
 And rich with honour for ourselves, — that neither 
 Quarrel enforce captivity, nor we. 
 Yielding up you that sit as suppliants 
 Of these our gods, bring down to dwell with us 
 
4IS-441J THE SUPPLIANTS. 19 
 
 The grievous Power that visits all such wrong, 
 The fell Destroyer, who delivereth not 
 Even the dead in Hades. Said I well ? 
 Is there not need of soul-preserving thought ? 
 
 Cho. Take thought for piety, take thought for right ; 
 
 Befriend us with true care, 
 
 Give not us over to despair, 
 Who, driven from far with rude enforced ilight, 
 
 Make to thy gods our prayer ! 
 See me not dragged a captive from this seat, 
 Of deities manifold the worshipped shrine ! 
 Let not the men prevail ! O absolute lord. 
 
 Their insolence abhorred 
 
 Discover and defeat. 
 
 Beware of wrath divine. 
 
 Endure not thou to see thy suppliant led 
 
 From sanctuary along, 
 
 (O deed of impious wrong !) 
 Held by the muslin harness of my head, 
 
 With ruffian hands and strong ! 
 Whichever cause thou favourest in thy choice, 
 Whate'er the act thou wiliest, there awaits 
 Thy children and thy house like trial of war. 
 
 Such truth oracular 
 
 Whispers the awful voice 
 
 Of Zeus, and the ancient Fates. 
 King. I have now bethought me, and it comes to this — 
 The ship of reason to this strand is borne — 
 A mighty war impends, inevitable. 
 With these or those. The cable holds my bark 
 
20 THE SUPPLIANTS. [442-467- 
 
 To that firm mooring-place, and there she's fixed. 
 
 No end is possible without distress. 
 
 Yet far firom equal are the issues here. 
 
 For though a house be ravaged of its store, 
 
 Till poverty and misery overflow, 
 
 Zeus, lord of produce, may compensate all ; 
 
 And though a tongue may shoot forth bolts undue. 
 
 To stir men's spleen and gall their inmost soul, 
 
 Yet words may salve the wound that words have made. 
 
 But bloodshedding 'twixt kinsmen to prevent 
 
 Full many a victim slain in sacrifice 
 
 To many gods were meet, to heal that harm. 
 
 Religiously I must avoid such strife. 
 
 Let me be skilless rather than proved wise 
 
 For mischief ! May the event bely my dread ! 
 
 Cho. Hear the conclusion of our patient plea. 
 
 King. Speak on. Your words will not escape mine ear. 
 
 Cho. Our robes are girded with those twisted bands. 
 
 King. Beseeming well your feminine estate. 
 
 Cho. A rich resource, be sure, is ours herein. 
 
 King. What utterance now will pass thy lips ? Say on. 
 
 Cho. If to this troop thou promise not sure aid 
 
 King. What riddance will your girdles bring to pass ? 
 
 Cho. Strange offerings shall adorn this sanctuary. 
 
 King. A riddling sentence ! Plainly speak your mind. 
 
 Cho. We will hang ourselves forthwith on these your 
 gods. 
 
 King. Ye cut my heart, as with a scourge. 
 
 Cho. Ay, now 
 
 Thou understandest my words ; I have made thee see. 
 
468-492.] THE SUPPLIANTS. 21 
 
 King. In vain I wrestle with this perilous case. 
 'Tis troublous every way. The rising flood 
 Of teeming sorrows rushes to o'erwhelm. 
 I am plunged in seas of woe unfathomable, 
 And find no harbourage, no further shore. 
 If I shall fail to satisfy your need. 
 Ye threaten me with horrors unsurpassed, 
 Pollution irredeemable. But if 
 Before our ramparts I stand forth and fight 
 To the utterance with ^gyptus' sons, your kin, 
 A dear expense, bitter to bear, were this, 
 That men for women's sake should stain the ground. 
 Yet needs must I revere the wrath of Zeus 
 The suppliant's God. 'Tis man's supremest fear. 
 Thou, reverend sir, father of these pure maids. 
 Take in thine arms those wool-wreathed boughs, and lay 
 
 them 
 Before another sanctuary, where all 
 The dwellers in our city may behold 
 These visible tokens of your sore distress, 
 Lest my report of you should pass for naught. , 
 
 This people love to cavil at their king. 
 It may be, those who see your suppliant guise 
 May feel compassion, and the folk at large 
 Be touched with kindness for you. None so cold 
 Whose heart inclines not to befriend the weak. 
 
 Dan. We have gained one point, much valued, to have 
 found 
 In thee a patron so considerate. 
 But send an escort of the natives here 
 
22 THE SUPPLIANTS. [493-5 rS- 
 
 To point my way, and make mine errand known, 
 
 That I may find the altars 'fore those fanes 
 
 Where dwell your state's protecting deities, 
 
 And through your streets may pass without annoy. 
 
 Our garb is foreign here, and strange our mien. 
 
 Nile fosters not like forms with Inachus. 
 
 Take heed security breed not dismay. 
 
 Friend hath slain friend ere now, not knowing him. 
 
 King {to the attendants). Go ye, for well the stranger 
 speaks, and guide 
 His feet to our mid-city's altar-places, 
 The dwellings of our gods. Nor, as ye go. 
 Speak much to those ye meet, while ye conduct 
 This mariner whom here we suppliant four\4. 
 
 \Exit Danaus. 
 
 Cho. Our sire hath your commands. Then let him go. 
 What shall we do ? Where dost thou 'point us safety ? 
 
 King. Leave there those tokens of your trouble past. 
 
 Cho. These boughs ? I obey thy gesture and thy words. 
 
 King. Now turn thy steps along this level ground. 
 
 Cho. How should unhallowed ground protect my 
 head? 
 
 King. Though your pursuer have wings, we will not 
 yield you. 
 
 Cho. But if he have fangs sharper than serpents' teeth ? 
 
 King. Speak gently. No harsh word was spoken to 
 thee. 
 
 Cho. Forgive the impatience of a heart that fears. 
 
 King. A woman's fears are ever uncontrolled. 
 
 Cho. Thy words are comforting. So be thy deeds. 
 
516-538.] THE SUPPLIANTS. 23 
 
 King. Your father will not leave you long forlorn. 
 I go to assemble all this populace, 
 And turn the public mind to a friendly mood ; 
 To instruct thy father, too, what things to say. 
 Remain ye, therefore, and entreat with prayer 
 This country's gods to grant you your desires : 
 To compass which event I now depart. 
 May smooth Persuasion and Success go with me ! \Exit. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 O thou of blessfed gods most blest, 
 
 Of dignities the topmost crest, 
 
 Zeus, lord of lords, amidst thy glory, hear ! 
 
 Let that be done which calms our fear. 
 
 Hate and avert the crime the men would do. 
 
 And where those purpling waves appear, 
 
 Whelm the accursfed bark rowed by the swarthy crew. 
 
 Renew the tale of kindness past 
 
 And let the fond remembrance last. 
 
 The women here are offspring of thy love, 
 
 When touching lo from above 
 
 Thou didst create our lineage with thy hand. 
 
 May we from hence no more remove, — 
 
 Not aliens here, but inmates of the land. 
 
 Exiled from Egypt, I come back 
 To find the old familiar track. 
 
24 THE SUPPLIANTS. [539-564. 
 
 'Twas here the myriad-eyed one gazed 
 On our poor mother while she grazed 
 And cropped the flowery herbage sweet. 
 'Twas hence with breese-bewildered feet 
 She passed through many a mortal race, 
 Till, where the continents divide. 
 She measured the foredestined space. 
 And crossed the limit of the billowy tide. 
 
 Through Asia rushing, and through all 
 Rude Phrygia's region pastoral. 
 She passed the Mysian citadels 
 Of Teuthras, and the Lydian dells, 
 Cilician mounts, Pamphylian fields. 
 Streams, whose perennial water yields 
 Infinite wealth, — through all she fares, 
 And through the land of countless gain, 
 The land abounding with strange wares. 
 The land of Aphrodite, rich in grain. 
 
 Till, 'neath the wingfed drover's goad 
 
 Traversing all that devious road. 
 
 She reached the life-maintaining mead 
 
 That southern snow-storms feed. 
 Favoured of Zeus, where wandering all abroad, 
 Nile's healthful waters banish every bane. 
 
 Unto that mystic plain 
 Comes Hera's bacchanal, breese-distraught. 
 Transformed, dismantled, shamed, o'erwrought 
 With weariness and still-returning pain. 
 
S6s-S8l.] THE SUPPLIANTS. 25 
 
 The mortal inmates of that land 
 With heart appalled and visage wanned 
 Were portent-stricken and sore amazed, 
 
 As on that form they gazed, 
 And now the maiden, now the heifer scanned. 
 Strange bovine nature intermixed with human. 
 
 Part cow, part tender woman. 
 Who then might soften the wild distress 
 Of lo's breese-driven wandering loneliness. 
 Or make her tale of tribulation less ? 
 
 'Twas Zeus, the lord of inexhaustible years : 
 
 He calmed her alien fears, 
 And by a touch restored her injured mind. 
 Rude violence, by harmless power confined. 
 Vexes no more ; the breath of god dispels 
 Her stony trance, and once again there wells 
 From honour's fount the tender grace of tears. 
 Of Zeus the genuine breed then came to Earth. 
 And heavenly was that unoffending birth 
 
 Of him whose line hath prospered brightly and long, 
 
 Till earth takes up the song, 
 " Of Zeus the authentic race is here displayed. 
 The genial issue of the wandering maid." 
 Who else could quell the overmastering league 
 Of troubles raised by Hera's wild intrigue ? 
 To whom save Zeus belongs undoing of wrong ? 
 The deed was his, and his, believe it well. 
 The race of Epaphus whereof we tell. 
 
20 THE SUPPLIANTS. [582-615. 
 
 To whom then of the gods with holier right 
 
 Should I appeal to aid me with his might ? 
 
 With his own hand he planted erst the seed 
 
 Wherefrom we sprang ; author of every deed, 
 
 Eldest artificer, giving to wisdom speed. 
 
 Not hastening work beneath a master's eye. 
 
 As one who on a mightier doth rely. 
 
 Or lowly worshippeth a lordlier throne : 
 
 With Zeus alone, thought, word, and deed are one ; 
 
 Whate'er he wills, he say'th, and when he say'th, 'tis done. 
 
 Re-enter Danaus. 
 
 Dan. Be of good cheer, my daughters. All is well. 
 This people's heart is sound. Their votes are given. 
 
 Cho. Hail, reverend sire ! Right welcome is thy news- 
 But say, what bearing hath the full decree. 
 Or in what sense those many hands were shown. 
 
 Dan. Unanimous was the Argive folk's resolve. 
 Reviving youth within mine agfed frame. 
 The bright sky bristled with right hands in air. 
 From that great crowd, confirming this decree : 
 That we should share the freedom of their soil. 
 And none should seize or claim our persons here ; 
 No indweller, no stranger from afar. 
 Should take us captive ; and, if force were tried, 
 Whoever of these townsmen rushed not forth 
 To work our rescue, should be visited 
 With public outlawry, and banishment. 
 So mightily prevailed the royal word 
 
616-634.] THE SUPPLIANTS. 27 
 
 Of King Pelasgus, pleading on our side, 
 And warning all his people, ne'er to raise 
 The wrath of Zeus, the suppliants' friend, to grow 
 And magnify hereafter, lest pollution 
 Twofold, involving home and foreign mischief. 
 Should foster here immedicable harm. 
 That heard, no summoner was needed there. 
 But the Argive host with one consent upheld 
 Their willing hands, voting that this should be. 
 And all the assembly of Pelasgian men 
 Gave heed to much persuasive argument 
 To the same end. Which Zeus hath ratified. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Bless we the Argives, and repay 
 Their blessings with a kindly lay. 
 
 Zeus of strangers, see it done ! 
 Strangers, we implore thy throne : 
 Let the truth our lips proclaim 
 Swell the glory of thy name. 
 Hear the blessings now we pour 
 From the heart's abundant store 
 On your issue, gods of Greece ! 
 Ares, from thy madness cease ! 
 Make not this Pelasgian town. 
 Burned with fire, to crumble down ! 
 Lover of the lyreless cry, 
 That inregions far and nigh. 
 
28 THE SUPPLIANTS. [635-663- 
 
 Mowest down the human grain 
 Dripping with the gory rain ! 
 Spare the folk that showed us ruth, 
 Passing votes of mercy and truth, 
 Reverencing this piteous throng, 
 Through the grace of Zeus made strong ; 
 Siding not with man-made laws. 
 Scorning not the woman's cause, 
 But regarding in their thought 
 That which none may set at naught. 
 Nor resist, and flee from bane. 
 Who may stand the crushing strain 
 Of pollution on his home 
 Pressing with the weight of doom ? 
 These revere the suppliant maids 
 Whom the Lord of mercy aids ; 
 They revere the strain divine 
 Mingled with our ancient line. 
 Pure, then, shall their altars prove. 
 Pleasing to the gods above. 
 
 With these olive-boughs arrayed. 
 Sheltered 'neath their sacred shade. 
 Peal we forth our heartfelt prayer. 
 Thrilling through the liberal air. 
 May no plague your people thin. 
 Ne'er may faction from within 
 Stain your streets with homebred strife ; 
 Still be spared all youthful life ; 
 
664-686.] THE SUPPLIANTS. 29 
 
 Let not Ares cull your flower 
 With his homicidal power, — 
 Ares, unresisted rover. 
 Aphrodite's restless lover. 
 
 Let old men and matrons bend 
 Where thrice-hallowed priests attend 
 The altar, heaped with fragrant gifts. 
 That clear flame to Heaven uplifts, — 
 So be blest your aftertime, 
 Honouring all the Powers sublime. 
 Him in chief, whose hoary name 
 Still protects the stranger's claim. 
 Ever from each bounteous field 
 Let boon Earth fresh tribute yield ; 
 Artemis with genial love 
 Watch your labouring wives above. 
 
 Plague that withers manly might 
 Come not near, your town to aifright, 
 Making all your country rife 
 With a worse than martial strife, 
 Void of music, fraught with tears, 
 Noisy with a nation's fears, 
 Spreading misery and alarm ; — 
 Fell diseases' dismal swarm 
 Settle far from every head 
 That is laid on Argive bed. 
 Great Apollo look with ruth 
 Upon all your tender youth ! 
 
30 TH'E SUPPLIANTS. [687-706. 
 
 Zeus at every season bless 
 Your rich land with fruitfulness ; 
 As they graze beside the stream 
 May your flocks with eanlings teem ; 
 Still may every worshipped Power 
 Help you' at the needful hour, — 
 Most of all the heavenly Muse. 
 Let your poets pay their dues 
 At each shrine with songs of worth. 
 Purely let the voice give forth 
 Every reverence-breathing word, 
 With the lyre m, apt accord ! 
 
 Let your rulers hold in awe 
 High degree and holy law. 
 Swaying with far-sighted skill 
 Toward wise aims the popular will. 
 Ere they arm the war's array 
 For the rash contentious fray, 
 Let them fair proposals bring 
 To remove the offence's sting, 
 Healing what their foes resent, 
 With unarmed arbitrament. 
 
 Let them honour, as of old. 
 All the Gods, your town that hold. 
 With processions laurelled bright. 
 And the oxen-slaughtering rite. 
 
707-731.J THE SUPPLIANTS. 31 
 
 Glory to forefathers given 
 Keeps the great behest of Heaven. 
 Third on Justice' roll doth stand 
 That infallible command, — 
 Justice, highest name on Earth, 
 Worshipped as of heavenly worth. 
 
 Dan. Dear daughters, I commend that pious hymn. 
 But hear, and start not, while your father tells 
 Unwelcome tidings, unforeseen and strange. 
 From this high platform where ye suppliant knelt 
 I see the ship. 'Tis theirs beyond a doubt,— 
 Hull, sails, and tackling unmistakable. 
 And prow with eyes that scour the forward way, 
 While she obeys too surely, being our foe. 
 The paddle at her stern directing her. 
 And now the men on board are plain to see. 
 Dark limbs appearing out of garments white. 
 Nor less remarkably her convoy swarms 
 With smaller craft around her. She herself 
 Their leader, now approaching land, hath lowered 
 Her canvas, and all hands are at the oars. 
 In quietness, then, and modest confidence 
 Attend, and cling to these protectors here. 
 Till I bring human advocates to aid. 
 Some herald or commission may arrive 
 And claim your persons as of right. But fear not. 
 Let them not startle you. This shall not be. — 
 Yet lest our help should be delayed, 'tis well 
 Ye lose not hold of this Divine defence. 
 
32 
 
 THE SUPPLIANTS. [73Z-7S6- 
 
 Be not afraid. Contemners of the gods 
 
 Shall pay their quittance at the appointed hour. 
 
 Cho. Father, I quake with fear. The swift-winged 
 bark 
 Arrives. The time of respite runneth short. 
 I am terrified. What profits my rough flight — 
 My wildered course by sea and land ? My sire, 
 I faint with dread. 
 
 Dan. The Argive men's resolve 
 
 Was final. They will fight in your behalf. 
 Fear not, my daughters, for I know that well. 
 
 Cho. Abandoned' are ^gyptus' maniac brood. 
 Insatiate still in war. Thou know'st 'tis true. 
 In that firm-timbered black-eyed bark they come. 
 Rowed by dark throngs of warriors and impelled 
 With headlong rage. 
 
 Dan. But they shall find on shore 
 
 Full many to resist, whose arms are tanned 
 To tough consistence in the midday heat. 
 
 Cho. Nay, leave me not alone, I entreat thee, sire. 
 A woman by herself is nothing-worth, 
 Strengthless for battle, — and the men that come 
 Are savage-thoughted, crafty-skilled, impure 
 And impious as the raven, that regards 
 Nor hearth nor altar. 
 
 Dan. Then the gods abhor them 
 
 No less than thou ; — that makes for us, my daughters. 
 
 Cho. No reverence for the blessfed gods, no fear 
 Even of yon trident, will deter them, father, 
 Or make them hold their hands from seizing us. 
 
757-777-] THE SUPPLIANTS. 
 
 33 
 
 Madly intent are they with godless fury, 
 Frenzied with insolence, ignoring Heaven, 
 Like dogs for boldness. 
 
 Dan. But lean wolves, 'tis said. 
 
 Are mightier. Cornflour beats papyrus-pith. 
 
 Cho. The wildest beast hath not such vehemence 
 Of impious valour as those vain-proud men. 
 Beware ! 
 
 Dan. Not swiftly speeds the marshalling 
 Of troops from shipboard. And ere that is tried. 
 Behoves to moor, and bring away on shore 
 The hawsers, for security. All this 
 Takes time ; nor all at once are men assured 
 Who tend a vessel by a foreign strand. 
 That anchors will not drag, but safely hold, — 
 Least when the shore they find is harbourless. 
 And night-ward wends the westering sun. Dark night 
 Still genders pangs in the wise pilot's breast. 
 Their army cannot well even disembark 
 Until their ship, safe-moored, in comfort rides. 
 Fear, if ye must, but lean on heavenly succour. 
 
 * * * * till I 
 
 Succeed in bringing help. Though I be old, 
 No ineffective summoner this town 
 Shall find me. For discourse I am lusty and young. 
 
 \Exit. 
 
 Chorus. 
 Mother of mountains, Earth, divinely great, 
 Hath the Apian land a cave to cover me ? 
 
34 THE SUPPLIANTS. [778-811. 
 
 Some dark recess, whereunto we may flee ? 
 
 Would I might change my state 
 
 To coal-black smoke, neighbouring the clouds on high, 
 
 Or spiring dust, that wingless I might fly, 
 
 Vanishing like an arrow in the sky, 
 
 And there might perish ! The men's passionate mind 
 
 Advances unavoidably. We quail 
 
 At our sire's tidings : — our dark spirits fail ! 
 
 Ah ! would that we might find 
 
 Some hanging noose to give us violent death 
 
 Ere tainted with contaminating breath ! 
 
 Ere then, may Hades rule our spirits beneath ! 
 
 O for a seat on some ethereal height, 
 
 Where snow congeals from clouds that wandering float, 
 
 Or some smooth crag, forsaken by the goat, 
 
 Lone-thoughted, overhanging, far from sight. 
 
 The vulture's perch, to witness my deep fall, 
 
 Escaping from this wedlock's hated thrall ! 
 
 Dogs, and wild birds that wing the region there 
 
 Might take us for their unresisting spoil ; 
 
 For death sets free from lamentable coil 
 
 Of cureless evils. Death prevents despair. 
 
 Death before marriage be my lot ! No road 
 
 Frees me, but one straight path, to Death's abode. 
 
 Then lift your wailing voices high. 
 And let your prayers assail the sky. 
 The power that brings my fated end 
 Alone can free me or befriend. 
 
812-833-] "TH^ SUPPLIANTS. 35 
 
 Great Father, let thy righteous glance 
 Visit the proudly armed advance 
 Of violence thou hatest sore. 
 View their unblest battalions o'er, 
 And have regard to us who pray 
 To thee, whose rule all lands obey. 
 O Zeus, the intolerable pride 
 Of that male offspring wrest aside ! 
 ^gyptus' sons, arrived from far. 
 Hound me with noise of wanton war. 
 With violent hands they seek to clutch, , 
 And taint us with unnatural touch. 
 But over all our human ways 
 The beam of thy great balance sways. 
 What mortal business without thee 
 Attains assured finality ? 
 
 Ah ! ah ! 
 
 The snatcher comes, the shipmate of the men. 
 
 He stalks along the strand 
 
 To take me from the land 
 
 Even as his lords have planned — 
 Kidnapping snatcher, thou shalt weary ere then ! 
 
 Sa ! Sa ! Even so ! Again 
 
 I raise my doleful strain ; 
 Seeing the forceful prelude close at hand, 
 Commencement of their violence and my pain. 
 
 O wala wa ! 
 
 Fly to the refuge, fly ! 
 
 Their looks of barbarous pride 
 
 At sea were hard to abide ; 
 
36 THE SUPPLIANTS. [834-854- 
 
 They fright us now on shore. 
 Thy shelter we implore, 
 Lord of this sanctuary ! 
 
 Enter Herald. 
 
 Her. Hark to my warning, hark ! 
 Betake you to the bark 
 With all your swiftest speed. 
 Else comes the ruthless deed. 
 Hair pulled out by the root. 
 Branding of hand and foot, 
 Much blood in slaughter shed 
 And severing of the head. 
 If curses aught ye heed. 
 Speed to the galley, speed ! 
 
 Cho. O would that in the briny flood 
 Thou and thy lords of impious mood, 
 And that proud ship with timbers strong 
 Had foundered the mad waves among ! 
 
 Her. Down to the vessel lies 
 Your pathway : then be wise — 
 Give heed to force, and leave 
 Rash counsels that deceive ; 
 Forsake those seats and come ! 
 The bark shall bear you home. 
 This Heaven-observing town 
 Smiles, as we seize our own. 
 
 Cho. No ! Nevermore let me behold 
 Those fertile waters, loved of old, 
 
8SS-881.] THE SUPPLIANTS. 37 
 
 That save the labour of the steer, 
 And nourish life, to mortals dear. 
 Through rich supply of genial food. 
 Filling their veins with bounding blood ! 
 « # * * 
 
 Her. Full powers to command you are mine. 
 From that pedestalled shrine 
 Come away ; ye shall soon be afloat, 
 Will you, nill you, embarked in my boat. 
 Each one I will forcibly hale 
 By the folds of her veil. 
 Evicted with violent hand 
 From your seats in this land. 
 
 Cho. O would that thou with thy design 
 Might perish in the weltering brine. 
 All wildly by the wandering breeze 
 Wafted adrift o'er spacious seas, 
 To where the shoaling currents are 
 That chafe the Sarpedonian bar ! 
 
 Her. Howl as thou wilt, and rend thy robes, and call 
 Thy gods to aid ! Thou shalt not overskip 
 The limiting bulwark of ^gyptus' bark. 
 Ay, howl and cry, out-wailing thy distress ; 
 Thou hast thy name conjoined with wretchedness. 
 
 Cho. Woe for thine insults, and the intent 
 Of those thou singly dost present. 
 Yawning with terrors manifold. 
 With serried jaws agape and bold. 
 May Nile that reared thee turn aside 
 And bring to naught thy ruthless pride ! 
 
38 THE SUPPLIANTS. [882-912. 
 
 Her. Speed to yon twy-prowed bark, I bid you, speed ! 
 Else, if ye loiter, any one of you. 
 Reverence defied, I'll drag you by the hair. 
 
 Cho. Father, the help of sanctuary proves naught, 
 Vain our fond trust ; he drags us all the same ; 
 That stalking spider, that swart hideous dream. 
 Woe is me ! O mother Earth, attend our cry ; 
 Bid back our fear ! Zeus, sire. Earth's son, O hear ! 
 
 Her. I fear not any gods that hold this ground — 
 They nursed me not, nor led me on to age. 
 
 Cho. To grip me he assays, the two-legged serpent ! 
 He holds me like an adder with sharp fangs. 
 Woe is me ! O mother Earth, attend our cry ! 
 Bid back our fear ! Zeus, sire. Earth's son, O hear ! 
 
 Her. Come to the ship, or else, in spite of pity. 
 Your broideries shall be rent. Come on ! Refuse not ! 
 
 Cho. Lords of the land, I am overpowered. Come 
 near! 
 
 Her. Lords of your life full many shall ye soon 
 Behold, ^gyptus' sons. Not lordless ye ! 
 
 Cho. We are undone, O king ! Our hopes are 
 gone. 
 
 Her. I'll pluck you off by the long locks and drag 
 you. 
 Since ye are dull in hearkening to my words. 
 
 Re-enter King Pelasgus. 
 
 King. Sirrah ! what dost thou ? What imports the 
 pride 
 Thou show'st in scorning this Pelasgian land ? 
 
9«3-933-] THE SUPPLIANTS. 
 
 39 
 
 Dost thou suppose we have naught but women here ? 
 Flout'st thou Hellenes with thy barbarous tongue ? 
 Much folly and no judgment, sure, is thine. 
 
 Her. Tell me wherein I have erred against the right ? 
 
 King. Thou knowest not how a stranger should behave. 
 
 Her. A stranger, who hath found what he had lost ? 
 
 King. To what power here didst thou prefer thy 
 claim ? 
 
 Her. To Hermes, mightiest patron of such quest. 
 
 King. He is a god, and thou profanest the gods. 
 
 Her. Nile, and the gods of Nile, are those I worship. 
 
 King. Thou set'st at naught the gods of Argos, then. 
 
 Her. If any rescue, well ! If not, I take them. 
 
 King. Withdraw thy hand, else quickly shalt thou 
 rue. 
 
 Her. Small courtesy lives in the words I hear. 
 
 King. I yield not courteous terms to sacrilege. 
 
 Her. ^gyptus' sons shall learn it from my mouth. 
 
 King. I take no charge of what they learn from thee. 
 
 Her. Yet let me know, that I may tell more clearly, 
 As it beseems a herald should report 
 Each fact in full. What must I say? By whom 
 Robbed of this band of female eousinship 
 Do I return ? 'Tis Ares will decide 
 This cause, not heard in court, nor jhall a bribe 
 Take up the quarrel, but, or ere it close, 
 Full many a warlike corpse shall stain the sod, 
 And many a life be reft in agony. 
 
 King. Why tell my name to thee ? Thyself in time, 
 And those companions of thy voyage, shall learn it. 
 
40 THE SUPPLIANTS. [940-966. 
 
 These maidens, if with pious argument 
 
 Thou gain'st their hearty kind consent, thou mayest 
 
 Freely take with thee. Such was the decree 
 
 Singly determined by the popular voice 
 
 Of our whole city — never to give up 
 
 This female band to violent attempt. 
 
 That plank hath been nailed home, and will not start. 
 
 Not graven on tablets was this law, nor sealed 
 
 Within papyrus-rolls, but in plain speech 
 
 Delivered to thee from a dauntless tongue. 
 
 Hear it, and vanish quickly from our sight. 
 
 Her. In those few words thou hast proclaimed a 
 war. 
 May the men's cause prevail triumphantly. 
 
 King. Men you shall find our land's inhabiters. 
 And men that drink not wine from barley brewed. 
 
 \Exit Herald. 
 Ye, maidens, with your maiden escort, pass, 
 And fear not, to our well-fenced citadel. 
 Deeply ensconced in well-appointed walls. 
 Wherein are many dwellings for my folk. 
 And mine are large, built with no niggard hand. 
 There you may find fair chambers, well prepared. 
 To share with fellow-lodgers : ox ye may, 
 For this may seem more gracious, dwell apart. 
 In single rooms. Cull therefore, at your choice, 
 Whate'er is best, or most dehghts your souls. 
 I and my citizens, whose voice herein 
 This act hath ratified, protect you now. 
 What more assured protection would ye crave ? 
 
967-990-] THE SUPPLIANTS. 
 
 41 
 
 Cho. Peer of the gods, Pelasgian king, 
 May thy good deeds blest fortune bring ! 
 Yet kindly hitherward convey 
 Danaiis our sire, without dismay ; 
 Since on his prudence we rely 
 To appoint our dwelling, and espy 
 Where we may live with auspice good. 
 Amidst a gentle neighbourhood. 
 May all be ordered for the best ! 
 Slander soon strikes the far-come guest. 
 {To the female attendants^ Ye then, dear maids, in comely 
 
 wise. 
 Shunning sharp tongues and curious eyes, 
 Follow our steps in order due. 
 Taking the place appointed you 
 By Danaiis, when for dower he gave 
 Each daughter an attendant slave. 
 
 Enter Danaus. 
 
 Dan. Children, acknowledge your preservers here. 
 Ye owe to the Argives, as to gods in heaven, 
 Rich drink-offerings, and prayer and sacrifice ; 
 Your saviours without controversy are they. 
 With hearts incensed against the men, your kin. 
 They heard me tell of their unkindliness, 
 And granted me this escort of armed men 
 For honour and defence, a priceless gift. 
 Lest unawares I might be slain, and bring 
 A long-abiding burden on their soil. 
 Respect me then the more, since I have won 
 
42 THE SUPPLIANTS. [990-1017. 
 
 This favour through persuasive friendliness. 
 And take to heart one more admonishment 
 And precept of your sire, that time may prove 
 Their mind, whom yet this city doth not know. 
 Against an alien every tongue is swift 
 For mischief, — easy 'tis to blight with words. 
 Take heed, then, how ye soil my new-found honours : 
 Such beauty as yours provokes the gaze of men. 
 Fruit tender-ripe is hard to keep in safety — 
 Man covets it, how not? and bird of the air ; 
 And crawling creatures waste and ravage it. 
 Cypris proclaims the mellowing grape too soon. 
 Bidding Love wait not, since the sap hath risen ; 
 And on fair maidens, fresh and delicate. 
 Each passer-by darts forth the searching shaft 
 Of longing glances, — conquered by desire. 
 Let not this mar the plan for which we have toiled 
 So hard, and with our bark ploughed leagues of sea. 
 Nor let us reap disgrace, and please my foes. 
 For habitation, we have choice twofold — 
 Pelasgus' offer, and the citizens'. 
 Exempt from charge. Take ye no thought for that, 
 But keep strict watch o'er this, your sire's behest, — 
 More than for life have care for modesty. 
 Leader of Cho. For other speed I trust the lords of 
 heaven. 
 But for our vintage, fear not, O my sire ! 
 Unless the gods have some strange work on hand. 
 My heart shall hold its path unswervingly. 
 
IOI8-I03S.] THE SUPPLIANTS. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 43 
 
 Hail with blessing as ye move 
 All the gods this town who love ! 
 Hail, great lords, that guard this land. 
 Ye that dwell along the strand 
 Erasinus from of old 
 With his stream divine doth hold. 
 Servant-maids, take up the strain ; . 
 Praise no more the alluvial plain 
 Nourished by the mouths of Nile, 
 Where ye harboured otherwhile. 
 But Pelasgus' city bless 
 With bright hymns of thankfulness. 
 Praise the streams, who at their w;ill 
 This fair land with plenty fill. 
 Making brilliant life abound 
 Over all.the teeming ground. 
 Artemis, behold us now ; 
 Bend this way thy virgin brow ; 
 Have compassion on our band 
 Moving through the stranger land. 
 Let not forced wedlock come, 
 Cypris' unrelenting doom : 
 Hard were such a lot to bear ! 
 Spare us, Cytherea, spare ! 
 
 2nd Half-Ch. Yet we scorn not Cypris' power, 
 Glory waits her sanctioned hour ; 
 Next to Zeus, with Hera, she 
 Owns divinest majesty, 
 
44 THE SUPPLIANTS. [1036-1057. 
 
 Through her subtle wiles possessing 
 Dignity, with marriage-blessing. 
 Hope and longing wait upon her, 
 Soft desires and thoughts of honour, 
 And the god whom none deny, 
 Mild Persuasion's witchery. 
 Nor doth Cypris ere refuse 
 Praise to each harmonious muse ; 
 Numbers that melodious move 
 Suit the whispering paths of Love. 
 
 1st Half-Ch. But my helpless exiled lot. 
 And the war that comes unsought, 
 Bid me shrink from Slander's breath, 
 And appalling sights of death. 
 Wherefore was their swift pursuing 
 Safely sped for mine undoing ? 
 
 2nd Half-Ch. What is fated, that shall be ; 
 Zeus' inscrutable decree, 
 His vast mind's stupendous plan, 
 Ne'er shall be o'erpassed by man. 
 Even the end we deprecate, — 
 Should that marriage prove our fate, — 
 Often, since the world was human, 
 Hath o'ertaken many a woman. 
 
 xst Half-Ch. Zeus defend we should be wed 
 To ^gyptus' hateful breed ! 
 
 2nd Half-Ch. Happy 'twere to avoid that hour, 
 But can prayers entreat His power ? 
 
 \st Half-Ch. Nay, thou know'st not. We have 
 said. 
 
1058-1074.] THE SUPPLIANTS. 45 
 
 2nd Half-Ch. Never could my feeble skill 
 Sound the abysses of His will. 
 Boast not, then, beyond thy bound. 
 
 \st Half-Ch. Give me counsel clear and sound. 
 
 ind Half-Ch. Let the gods their plan fulfil. 
 
 I st Half-Ch. Sovereign Zeus, prevent the stroke, 
 Leave us not to bear that yoke. 
 Married to the men we hate, — 
 Thou that freed'st from her sad fate, 
 When she suffered overmuch^ 
 lo, with that healing touch. 
 That with kindly force Divine, 
 Founded our ancestral line. 
 
 2nd Half-Ch. To weak women lend thy might. 
 Let decision crown the right. 
 Not for happiness we pray. 
 But redemption from dismay, — 
 Least of threatening woes is still 
 Better than the worst of ill. 
 To the Gods we look for aid, 
 Let us be no more afraid. 
 
THE PERSIANS. 
 
 PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. 
 
 Chorus of Persian Elders. 
 
 Atossa. 
 
 Messenger. 
 
 Ghost of Darius. 
 
 Xerxes. 
 
 The SCENE is laid at Susa, before the palace of Xerxes. 
 Time — after the battle of Salamis.i 
 
The poet, in order to read the lesson of the Persian War, carries 
 his Athenian audience into the heart of Persia, and bids them 
 imagine the grief and consternation which must have reigned there 
 after the destruction of the royal fleet. The play was produced in 
 472 B.C. 
 
 The Elders, the coevals of Darius, express anxiety for the fate of 
 the great armament, whose splendour in going forth they describe. 
 
 Atossa, the widowed consort of Darius and mother of Xerxes, 
 then enters, and confides to them the fears occasioned by her dream. 
 They are trying to comfort her when the Messenger arrives, and at 
 once reports the whole extent of the calamity. He gives a full and 
 clear description of the battle and the retreat. Atossa is soul- 
 stricken, and the Elders mourn. But presently the Queen returns, 
 and with offerings and incantations they raise the spirit of Darius. 
 He reproves the rashness and impiety of Xerxes, and prophesies 
 of the defeat at Plataea. Then he vanishes, and the Chorus cele- 
 brate the glories of his reign. 
 
 Xerxes now arrives, and the tragedy concludes with the mutual 
 lamentations of the King and of his aged counsellors. 
 
 The lessons indirectly inculcated are the dangers of impiety and 
 the blessings of constitutional freedom. 
 
 jEschylus was himself at Salamis, according to Pausanias, and 
 his brother Ameinias certainly took a prominent part in the engage- 
 ment. The poet's account is therefore, in this instance, to be pre- 
 ferred to that of the historian Herodotus, which is difficult to 
 reconcile with it at all points. See an essay on the subject by 
 Professor Goodwin, published in the " Transactions of the Archaeo- 
 logical Institute of America," vol. i., pp. 236-262. 
 
THE PERSIANS. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 When the countless Persian host 
 Left for Hellas' distant coast, 
 We remained, a faithful band. 
 Set to guard the sacred land, — 
 Old, and therefore counted meet 
 Watchmen of this ancient seat, 
 To protect the hearths and homes 
 Round the ancestral golden domes. 
 Xerxes' self, Dareius' son. 
 King and lord, chose forth each one. 
 Now my prophet-mind within 
 Sadly brooding doth begin 
 For our sovereign lord's return, 
 With his gilded host, to yearn. 
 All the youth of Asia born 
 Long have left her weak and lorn. 
 With a voice of piteous tone 
 Cries she for her strong ones gone. 
 Nor to this our citadel 
 Runs or rides a man to tell 
 
 E 
 
JO THE PERSIANS. [15-36- 
 
 Of the souls of priceless worth 
 Who from Susa's walls went forth, 
 And Ecbatana's proud hold 
 And the Cissian fortress old, — 
 Horsemen, shipmen, and the throng 
 That on foot make armies strong : 
 Haught Amistres' dignity, 
 Artaphemes' chivalry, 
 Megabates high in power, 
 Bright Astaspes, Persia's flower. 
 Kings that host were marshalling, 
 Vassals of the mighty king. 
 Ordering troops in countless flow, — 
 Masters of the twanging bow, 
 Masters of the bounding steed. 
 Dauntless hearts of glorious breed ; 
 Dreadful in their bright array. 
 Dreadful in the hurtling fray : 
 Artembares of the car, 
 Stout Masistres, glad in war. 
 Staunch Imseus, archer good. 
 There with Pharandaces stood, 
 And Sosthanes, without peer 
 As a lusty charioteer. 
 Mighty Nile's life-gendering coast 
 Furnished others for that host, — 
 Susiscanes' self for one, 
 And the Delta's true-bom son 
 Pegastagon ; then the power 
 Of old Memphis' governour, 
 
37-58.] THE PERSIANS. ji 
 
 Tall Arsames ; Ariomard, 
 Holy Thebfe's reverend guard ; 
 Myriad oarmen from the mere, 
 Strong to row and skilled to steer. 
 Then the Lydian multitude 
 Who the seaboard towns subdued, 
 And on all that clime doth give, 
 Delicately nurtured, live. 
 Joint commanders marshal these, 
 Arcteus and Metrogathes. 
 Sardis from her stores of gold 
 Sped those numbers manifold, 
 Mounted men and chariots bright 
 With their steeds, a perilous sight, 
 Well appointed for the war. 
 Four or six to every car. 
 Sacred Tmolus' neighbouring folk 
 Threaten Hellas with the yoke ; 
 Tharybis and Mardon lead, 
 Anvils both, to endure at need. 
 Mysian lancers next come on ; 
 Gold-renownfed Babylon 
 Marshals then her mingled train, 
 Shipmen from the Indian main, 
 And the dauntless tribes whose pride 
 On strong bows hath still relied. 
 Last, from every Asian land 
 Troop the dagger-bearing band, 
 With a dreadful summoning 
 Gathered by the mighty king. — 
 
52 TffE PERSIANS. [59-89- 
 
 Persia's flower of youth are flown, 
 Asia mourns her nurslings gone, 
 Longing wives and parents dear 
 Count the lingering hours with fear. 
 
 Over the firth and away 
 
 To the opposite neighbouring shore 
 
 That conquering host and their leader have passed in 
 royal array. 
 
 On the deep by the daughter of Athamas once ferried 
 o'er; 
 
 He hath bridged the sea-ways with a close-framed flax- 
 bound floor, 
 
 And the neck of the prancing brine hath felt his 
 yoke. 
 
 For the monarch his mandate spoke, 
 
 And innumerous Asia's lord 
 
 Drives over the face of the wondering world his divinest 
 flock, 
 
 Over lands and seas in their ordered myriads poured 
 
 By the aid of his war-proof leaders, who ne'er broke 
 word. 
 
 But obey their awful sovereign, of race divine. 
 
 With arms unnumbered, and ships in an endless line. 
 
 With the basilisk's murdering glance in his fierce dark 
 eyes, 
 
 Pursuing the furious course of his Syrian car. 
 
 He brings on the spear-famed folk overwhelrning war 
 
 And the shaft-shower's fell surprise. 
 
 What man is of power, what army of strength or size. 
 
90-122.] THE PERSIANS. 53 
 
 To stem that torrent, or bar the invincible wave ? 
 
 What strong sea-wall shall hinder its onward course ? 
 
 Nay, Persia's gathered host hath resistless force. 
 
 And her people's hearts are brave. 
 
 By a god erewhile on the Persian this task was sent, 
 
 In stress of the battle with uttermost hardiment 
 
 To destroy fenced cities, and justle with chariots, and 
 carry away 
 
 Whole nations captive at once in the joy of the fray. 
 
 And they know, while the fierce winds rave on the whiten- 
 ing deep, 
 
 To look on the forest of billows, and steadily sweep 
 
 O'er the wide sea-paths, as they trust to the whistling 
 cordage small 
 
 And the man-bearing slender strength of the timber- 
 wall. 
 
 Yet, if a god deceive. 
 
 What mortal man may 'scape by timeliest care ? 
 
 Whose foot so fleet his freedom then to achieve. 
 Or td overleap that snare ? 
 With flattering smiles at first 
 
 The feigning Fury trains the infatuate wight 
 
 To toils remediless of folly accurst 
 
 And long reprieveless night. 
 
 My gloom-o'ermantled heart is pricked with fear^ 
 Ah, well-a-day ! lest the army be destroyed, 
 And Susa's spacious town shall sadly hear 
 Her streets of Persian men henceforth are void. 
 Then echoing her complaint the Cissian height — 
 
54 THE PERSIANS. [123-150. 
 
 " Ah, well-a-day ! " shall cry with shrill lament, 
 Crowds of lone women gathering in affright. 
 With woful noise of muslin garments rent. 
 
 For over the bridge-like mole 
 Binding Asia to Europe, the whole great host 
 
 Are gone, every valiant soul ; 
 Horseman, and footman, and charioteer. 
 Like a swarm of bees with their leader, their myriads 
 crossed, 
 
 They have crossed, and left us here. 
 
 Grief fills the bereavfed bed 
 Where the bitterly longed-for husband comes no more. 
 
 Each wife hath her trouble instead ; 
 Pining, she utters her anxious moan. 
 While each doth her Persian warrior with wifelike tears 
 deplore 
 
 As she bears her burden alone. 
 
 Then in this room of ancient state 
 Sit, Persians, and in grave debate 
 Weave we deep counsel for this need. 
 To know how fares Dareius' seed, 
 Xerxes our lord, whose royal race 
 Is shared by all within this place : 
 Whether the host whose shafts o'erwhelm 
 Or they who bear the spear and helm 
 Have mastery in that far-off fight, 
 And oversway the opposed might. 
 But lo, where light of equal worth 
 To glances from God's eyes comes forth. 
 
Ijl-ie;.] THE PERSIANS. . 55 
 
 Our empress-mother ; kneel we here, 
 And bid her hail, with loyal fear. 
 
 Enter Atossa. 
 Princess, best of Persian women of the deeply folded zone. 
 Hail, our Xerxes' reverend mother, whom Dareius called 
 
 his own ! 
 Bedmate of a god of Persians ; mother of their god even 
 
 now. 
 If the Genius of our Empire frown not with distempered 
 brow. 
 Atossa. Even for that I came among you, from the 
 rooms adorned with gold. 
 And the couch where with Dareius I was wont to rest of old. 
 Pangs of care are in my bosom ; frankly will I tell you, 
 
 friends, 
 Thoughts whereon tormenting terror for my dearest hope' 
 
 attends, 
 Lest the downfall of great riches ventured on a perilous 
 
 road 
 Overturn the wealth Dareius gathered with the help of 
 
 God. 
 Whence a twofold thought unspoken floats before my 
 
 brooding soul : 
 Never let me reverence riches where no strong men keep 
 
 control. 
 Nor be it mine where riches are not to light up the lowly 
 
 cot, — 
 If but I may choose my fortune, — where some poor man 
 
 bears his lot. 
 
56 THE PERSIANS. [168-194. 
 
 Wealth is ours in full contentment ; yet we fear the fall of 
 
 night ; 
 For the presence of its master is the palace' only 
 
 light. 
 Wherefore, faithful Persian elders, be my counsellors in 
 
 this. 
 Since, relying on your counsel, I can never act amiss. 
 Cho. Empress-lady, know full surely, loyal is the aid you 
 seek; 
 Never task, that we have power for, shalt thou twice have' 
 cause to speak. 
 At I am nightly visited with haunting dreams, 
 E'er since my son levied that host and went 
 To sack the towns of the laones. 
 But last night's dream was far more clear than any. 
 I saw two women, fairly attired, the first 
 In flowing Persian robes ; in Dorian garb 
 The other ; — on they came, of stature tall. 
 Beyond the measure of humanity. 
 Faultless in beauty, sisters of one stock. 
 But for their native dwelling-place, methought. 
 The one had Grecian land allotted her. 
 The other. Barbarous, Now, in my dream, 
 I saw them fall to quarrel, and my son 
 Perceived it, and would tame and pacify 
 Their anger ; he would yoke them to his car 
 And place his collar on their necks. Whereat 
 The one showed pride in such accoutrement. 
 With docile paces curbing to the rein. ' 
 
 But the other plunged, and with rebellious hands 
 
194-219.] THE PERSIANS. 
 
 57 
 
 Would break the harness of the car, and tore 
 Away from all control, splintering the yoke. 
 My son fell headlong, and Dareius stood 
 Beside and pitied him — whom Xerxes seeing 
 Began to rend his garments in my dream. 
 Such were my visions of the night. But when 
 I had risen and dipped my hands in the pure fount, 
 I drew towards the altar, bringing there 
 Such tribute as the bane-averting powers 
 Delight in — honey-cake and frankincense. 
 Then at the hearth of Phoebus I behold 
 An eagle taking sanctuary, — O friends. 
 My heart stood still with terror, — for a hawk 
 With double speed rushed after, and with wing 
 And talon ruffled him ; he all the while 
 Cowering and submitting. Dreadful sight ! 
 Dreadful the tale, for you that hear ! For know. 
 My son succeeding shall be more extolled, 
 But failing, no man here may censure him : — 
 Sovran no less, if he return alive. 
 
 Cho. Words of counsel, reverend mother, neither to 
 affright thy heart 
 Nor to hearten thee unduly, would we speak. Even as 
 
 thou art. 
 Go and pray the gods to extinguish aught that thou 
 
 hast seen of ill ; 
 But if aught of good thou dreamedst, beg them amply to 
 
 fulfil 
 For thyself and seed that vision, and your friends and 
 
 the Empire all ; 
 
S8 THE PERSIANS. [219-233- 
 
 Then to Earth and Souls departed pour forth wine, and 
 
 kindly call 
 On Dareius, late thy husband, whom thou saw'st at dead 
 
 of night ; 
 Bid him send on thee and Xerxes blessing from beneath 
 
 to light. 
 But whate'er opposed to blessing by thy dream was 
 
 signified, 
 Quenched with ineffectual darkness let deep Earth for 
 
 ever hide. 
 From a loyal heart this counsel flows in rapt prophetic 
 
 vein. 
 Yet we augur from thy vision naught but blessing in the 
 main. 
 At. Surely with a loyal meaning to myself and house 
 and son. 
 Thus interpreting my vision, thou the auspice hast 
 
 begun. 
 May fulfilment crown thy presage ! I, within my 
 
 chambers hid. 
 To the gods and loved ones vanished will perform what 
 
 thou dost bid. 
 Yet one doubt, dear friends, resolve me. Tell me, 
 
 Persians, if ye may. 
 Whereabout on Earth's wide bosom Athens lies, as 
 travellers say. 
 Cho. Toward the place where sovran Helios sets and 
 
 dwindles, far away. 
 At. Wherefore was my son desirous Athens 'neath his 
 power to bring ? 
 
234-248.] TII£: JiEJiSIANS. 59 
 
 Cho. Hellas then in all her borders would be subject 
 
 to the King. 
 At. Say ; keeps Athens at her bidding such a multi- 
 tudinous host ? 
 Cho. Such a host, whose valiant prowess Persia knows 
 
 of to her cost. 
 At. What besides their men of valour? Have they 
 
 wealth enough in store ? 
 Cho. Yea, a vein by nature treasured in their land, of 
 
 silver ore. 
 At. Is it strength to draw the arrow that exalts them 
 
 thus in might ? 
 Cho. Not the bow, but shielded armour, and the spear 
 
 for standing fight. 
 At. Say, what shepherd sways their numbers ? who 
 
 their army's king and lord ? 
 Cho. They call no man lord or master, buckle under 
 
 no man's word. 
 At. Then they ne'er will stand the onset of a strange 
 
 invading foe. 
 Cho. They destroyed Dareius' army, great in number, 
 
 fair in show. 
 At. Thought of terror for the parents of our warriors 
 
 now away ! 
 Cho. All the truth for good or evil thou wilt learn 
 
 without delay. 
 For there comes a man whose running clearly proves 
 
 his Persian breed. 
 And methinks some certain tidings travel on his foot of 
 
 speed. 
 
6o THE PERSIANS. [249-277. 
 
 Enter Messenger. 
 
 Messenger. Imperial centre of vast Asia, 
 Land of the Persians, port and haven of wealth, 
 What plenitude of glory at one stroke 
 Is perished ! Persia's flower is fallen and gone. 
 Ah me ! 
 
 'Tis evil even to herald evil news. 
 Yet, Persians, I must open all your grief. 
 The whole of the Asian army is destroyed. 
 
 Cho. O bitterness ! O mischief dire and strange ! 
 Flow, flow with tears, Persians ! O cruel change ! 
 
 Mess. All yonder is undone. Myself behold 
 The light of home and safety beyond hope. 
 
 Cho. Have I grown old to endure an age of woe ? 
 Too long I have lived. O sore, unlooked-for blow ! 
 Mess. Myself the eyewitness, from no hearsay talk, 
 I can describe, Persians, what ills befel. 
 
 Cho. Woe ! woe ! woe ! woe ! In vain from the Asian 
 coast 
 Went forth erewhile the myriad-banded host, 
 With various aspect, various arms. 
 To ravage Hellas with alarms. 
 Mess. Bodies of warriors miserably slain 
 Crowd Salamis around, and choke her bays. 
 
 Cho. Woe ! woe ! woe ! woe ! To think that, crimson- 
 dyed. 
 The dear-loved limbs, tossed on the unfeeling tide, 
 From rock to jaggfed rock are borne 
 At random drifted, rudely torn ! 
 
278-305.] TBE PERSIANS. 61 
 
 Mess. Their bows availed not. By the crashing 
 prows 
 Of Grecian ships that host was overcome. 
 
 Cho. Wail for, that shout of dread 
 
 » O'er Persians vanquished — 
 
 The foemen's war-cry, fraught with utter woe. 
 Wail for the host, whose warriors all lie low. 
 
 Mess. Salamis ! hateful sound to all who hear ! 
 Athens ! what memories that name recalls ! 
 
 Ch. Athens ! by foes abhorred ! 
 Clear memory doth record 
 How many a blameless wife she reft at once 
 Of noble warrior spouse and warrior sons. 
 
 At. I am stunned to silence ; for such weight of 
 woe 
 Baffles expression, making question dumb. 
 Yet god-appointed griefs must be endured. 
 Speak then in order, though thy faltering tongue 
 May quail in the recital, — who survives, 
 And whom of our commanders must we mourn ? 
 What warrior, gifted with the marshal's wand. 
 Hath fallen and left his post, defenceless now ? 
 
 Mess. The king yet living sees the light of day. 
 
 At. A light of blessing for my palace home ; 
 Fair day-spring in mid-darkness ! Tell me more. 
 
 Mess. But Artembares, of ten thousand horse 
 Leader and lord, 'gainst the Silenian shore 
 Is driven and dashed, an unresisting bulk. 
 And tall Daddces, his chief officer, 
 Leapt nimbly from the deck, smit with a spear. 
 
62 THE PERSIANS. [306-336- 
 
 Tenagon, true-born prince of Bactria, 
 Round Aias' sea-washed isle keeps wandering, 
 While all about that coast, where doves abound, 
 Argestes, Arsames, Lilseus, whirled. 
 Butt the repellent earth. Adeues there, 
 Arcteus, and buckler-armed Pharnuchus too, 
 All three from out one self-same vessel fell. 
 Chrysan Matallus, marshal for the king 
 O'er thirty thousand swarthy cavalry. 
 Changing his Ethiop hue to crimson there, 
 Dyed his dark-shadowing beard full red in death. 
 The Magian Arabus, Bactrian Artabas, 
 As corpses hold the hard and alien land. 
 Amphistreus, wielder of the toilsome spear, 
 The valiant Ariomard, of Sardis mourned, 
 And Mysian Seisames, — and Tharabis, 
 Whom five times fifty stately ships obeyed, 
 Comeliest of Lyrna's sons, uncomely in death, 
 Poor hapless corpse, low lies. Syennesis 
 Amidst his prowess perished gloriously, 
 Commanding his Kilikian army there ; 
 None, while he lived, more troublous to the foe. 
 So much I have told thee of our leaders fallen ; 
 But woes beyond report untold remain. 
 
 At. Alas, I have heard enough, of grief the crown, 
 All Persia bowed with shame laments her dead. 
 But yet renew thy speech, and tell me, friend, 
 What number of the Grecian fleet so great 
 Emboldened them to meet our Persian men. 
 Thus front to front, and armfed prow to prow? 
 
337-367] THE PERSIANS. 63 
 
 Mess. For numbers, be assured, our Asian fleet 
 Lacked not pre-eminence. The Greeks that day 
 Had ten times thirty ships, whereof were ten 
 Renowned for swiftness. Xerxes, well I wot, 
 Led full a thousand, — and, of noted speed. 
 Two hundred sail and seven. From such account 
 Judge if we seemed unequal for that fight. 
 Some power unearthly swayed the balance there 
 To countervail advantage for our loss. 
 The gods themselves protect Athena's town. 
 
 At. Then Athens yet remains unsacked, unrazed ? 
 
 Mess. Even unendangered while Athenians live. 
 
 At. Whence came the encounter of the navies ? Tell. 
 Which gave the onset ? Was't the Grecian fleet ? 
 Or did my son in pride of strength begin ? 
 
 Mess. From nothing mortal, from some angry god. 
 Came the beginning of that course of woe. 
 A man of Hellas, from the Athenian host. 
 Came and told Xerxes thy great son this tale : 
 " Let but the shades of gloomy Night come o'er, 
 The Hellenes will not bide, but, each his way. 
 Manning the benches with a rush, will seek 
 By covert flight to save themselves alive." 
 Xerxes, on hearing it, perceiving not 
 The envy of Heaven, nor the Greek man's guile. 
 Forthwith to all his admirals gave command 
 That when the sun had ceased to burn the ground 
 With ardent beams, and darkness occupied 
 The setherial realm, our navy's main should then 
 In triple line watch o'er the passages 
 
64 THE PERSIANS. [368-397- 
 
 Of exit from the strait, while other ships 
 AH round the isle of Aias should keep guard ; 
 And if the Greeks escaped from death and doom, 
 Finding some secret passage for their fleet, 
 The captains all should lose their heads. 
 
 So spake he 
 With lusty cheer, knowing naught of what should be, 
 Nor what the gods had purposed. Duly then 
 Obeying their lord, while supper was prepared, 
 They tied their oars to the rowlocks. — Daylight died 
 And night came on. Each oarsman held his oar, 
 Each armfed warrior manned his post on deck, 
 And rank to rank passed on the heartening word 
 From stem to stern o' the war-ship. Under weigh 
 Each vessel held the course appointed her. 
 Whilst all the captains kept their mariners 
 Manoeuvring all night long, a moving chain. 
 The night was passing, and no sign appeared 
 Of Grecian vessel bound for stealthy flight. 
 But when fair day with milk-white steeds appeared 
 And covered all the land with gladdening rays. 
 Then rose from that Greek armament a song 
 Bt th loud and musical, and the island rocks 
 Re-echoed, shouting battle. On our side 
 Fell disappointment, wonder and dismay, 
 Shattering the general hope. Not as for flight 
 Pealed forth the Hellenes that high Paean-hymn, 
 But with good courage rallying to the fray. 
 All yonder side blazed with the trumpet's blare. 
 Then with one impulse, at the pilot's word, 
 
396-426.] THE PERSIANS. 65 
 
 All oars were dipped and smote the seething brine, 
 
 And swiftly their whole battle hove in view. 
 
 Their right wing in good order led the way, 
 
 Then all their navy followed ; then one heard - 
 
 A cry that grew : " Sons of Hellenes, on ! 
 
 Save Hellas, save your children, save your wives, 
 
 Your father's graves, the temples of their gods, 
 
 From slavery ! Fight, to defend your all ! " 
 
 Then from a sea of Persian voices roared 
 
 The counter clamour. For the hour was come. 
 
 Now ship smote ship with brazen-pointed prow. 
 
 A Greek began that onslaught, tearing off 
 
 All the ornature from a Sidonian hull. 
 
 Then on and on, with ships for spears, they fought. 
 
 The Persian fleet, in a perpetual stream. 
 
 At first appeared invincible ; but when 
 
 Their numbers in the narrows packed and hemmed 
 
 Grew dense, they cracked their oarage in the crowd. 
 
 And smote each other with their beaks of brass. 
 
 And none might help his fellow. Ware of this, 
 
 The Grecian shipmasters with cunning skill 
 
 Justled us round and round, — till hulls capsized. 
 
 And all the sea was hidden from our sight. 
 
 With wrecks and human carnage covered o'er. 
 
 The cliffs and jutting reefs were thronged with dead, 
 
 And every vessel left in the Asian fleet 
 
 Rowed hard for safety in disordered rout. 
 
 But they, like men who have tunnies in the net. 
 
 With fragments of snapped oars, spHnters of wreck. 
 
 Smote, hacked and slew, that all that reach of sea 
 
66 THE PERSIANS. [427-453- 
 
 With wailing cries and shouts of triumphing 
 Resounded, till work-baffling night came down. 
 Ten days on end would not suffice to tell, 
 In ceaseless talk, the whole account of woe. 
 Let this suffice thee ; never heretofore 
 Died in one day so vast a number of men. 
 
 At. Woe, woe ! What floods of sorrow are unbound 
 For Persia, and the whole Barbarian world ! 
 
 Mess. Know thou, the grief of griefs is yet to come. 
 Such dire calamity came o'er them there. 
 That more than twice outweighed what hath been 
 told. 
 
 At. What chance could be more dire than that we 
 have heard ? 
 Declare, what onslaught of calamity 
 Came on the host, transcending all that woe ? 
 
 Mess. What Persian men were there of noblest strain, 
 For birth and valour of spirit most approved, 
 Foremost in constant service to the king, 
 Most cruel deaths ingloriously have died. 
 
 At. O loss ineffable ! O cruel blow ! 
 How mean'st thou these have perished ? By what doom ? 
 
 Mess. In front of Salamis an island lies, 
 Small, rough for moorage, which dance-loving Pan 
 Haunts with light hoof, roving the seaward ground. 
 There planted Xerxes that choice band, that when 
 The broken foemen on that island shore 
 Sought refuge, they might take the helpless prey 
 And kill them, rescuing from the narrow seas 
 What friends might drift there. 
 
454-479-] THE PERSIANS. 67 
 
 Badly he foresaw 
 Futurity. For when the God had given 
 To Greece the glory of that fight, forthwith 
 In the afternoon, before the sun was low, 
 They cased them in their armour, and leapt forth 
 From shipboard, and encircled all that isle. 
 Our nobles knew not where to turn. Then came 
 The crashing stones from stalwart hands, then flew 
 The life-destroying arrow from the string. 
 Last, in one roaring flood from every side 
 They rushed and closed them round with havoc dire. 
 And smote and hewed them limb from limb, until 
 Those princely lives, to a man, were all extinct. 
 Xerxes beheld and groaned, o'erwhelmed with woe. 
 A seat he held commanding all the host, 
 A lofty mound near to the open sea. 
 Whence, with loud cries, and rending of his robes, 
 He rose in sudden haste, and passed the word 
 For the land army to retreat : then rushed 
 To headlong flight^Such dire calamity 
 Beside the former calls for thy lament. 
 
 At. O sullen Fortune ! How deceitfully 
 Thou hast robbed the Persians of their purposes ! 
 To his unending sorrow hath my son 
 Pursued his vengeance on the Athenians' pride ! 
 Too few of ours did Marathon consume. 
 For whom my son planning the recompense. 
 Hath brought this tumult of disasters down. 
 
 But tell us of the remnant of the fleet, 
 Where didst thou leave them ? Canst thou certify ? 
 
68 THE PERSIANS. [480-509. 
 
 Mess. The captains of what ships remained afloat 
 Sailed down the wind in rash disordered flight. 
 
 Meantime the escaping army suffered loss, 
 Some perishing of thirst by the clear wells 
 In wide Boeotia, while the rest of us, 
 Hungry and scant of breath, passed on within 
 Phocis and Doris and the Melian shore, 
 Where mild Spercheius laves a smiling land. 
 From thence the borders of Achaia's plain 
 And towns of Thessaly received our host, 
 Hardly bested and hungering : there most died, 
 Of thirst and famine. Both were in the extreme. 
 
 Yet moved we onward through Magnesian wastes 
 To Macedonia, crossing Axius' fords, 
 And passing Bolbe's waving reeds ; then came 
 To Mount Pangaion and the Edonians' land. 
 That night, against the season of the year. 
 By Providence Divine a wintry storm 
 Made hard with ice the Strymon's holy stream. 
 That men who erst had set the gods at naught 
 Bowed down and worshipped, praising Earth and Heaven, 
 When those loud prayers were ended, all the host 
 Began to cross the ice-encrusted ford. 
 But only those who started ere the sun 
 Had shed abroad his beams, remain alive. 
 For the bright orb with radiant warmth dissolved 
 And sundered the mid passage : down they fell, 
 Heaped on each other : he was fortunate 
 Who in that throng first yielded up his' breath. 
 
 Not many are they who 'scaped, and with much toil 
 
SIO-S36.] THE PERSIANS. 
 
 69 
 
 Hardly have passed through Thracia to a land 
 Where friendly hearths received them. Persia mourns 
 The loss of all that youth, her dearest flower. 
 
 All this is true, and more I leave unsaid 
 That Heaven sent down, afflicting Persian men. 
 
 Cho. Genius of ruin ! with what giant force 
 Thou hast set thy foot on all this Persian world ! 
 
 At. Woe, for the host destroyed ! oh, woe is me ! 
 Night vision of my dream, too clear and true 
 Thy warning ! Weak interpreters were ye ! 
 Yet your one word of counsel firmly holds. 
 And I embrace it, first entreating Heaven 
 With humble prayers. Then will I fetch from home 
 For Earth and parted souls a meat-offering, — 
 Too late, I know, when all is over and done, 
 Yet with some hope of lessening ills to be. 
 Meantime 'tis yours, in this disastrous hour, 
 With loyal plans thwarting disloyalty. 
 To unite in conference all faithful men. 
 And should my son. arrive ere my return. 
 With words of comfort guide him home, lest he 
 Add wilful evil to calamity. \Exit. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Great king of all gods, thou hast ruined the Persians' 
 
 pride ; 
 Thou hast drained their army that flowed in a lordly tide ; 
 Thou hast covered all over with grief, as a darksome 
 
 shroud, 
 Ecbatana's towers and Susa's palaces proud. 
 
70 THE PERSIANS. [537-562- 
 
 And many a tender hand is rending the veil. 
 
 And many a gentle spirit doth inly wail, 
 
 As beneath the tear-steeped bosom the heart doth 
 
 fail. ; 
 
 Ah ! many a Persian bride in the lonely house 
 Cries " Oh ! " for the vanished face of her manly spouse. 
 In delicate sorrow they leave the coverlets fine 
 And the couches of youth's soft dalliance, while each , 
 
 doth pine 
 With sound unending of inexhaustible moan. 
 And we with loyal spirits lament and groan 
 For the heart-overwhelming fate of the warriors gone. 
 
 Now all dispeopled and alone, 
 In all her coasts doth Asia groan. 
 
 Alas, woe worth the day ! 
 At Xerxes' word that army crossed, 
 By Xerxes was that army lost, 
 Xerxes for all that naval host 
 
 The advantage cast away. 
 How Susa's children shall deplore 
 Dareius, their desire of yore. 
 
 Defending them from harm ! 
 Oft then they triumphed with the bow. 
 But naught of loss did Persia know, 
 
 Secure from all alarm. 
 Bold mariners and men of war 
 On many a flax-winged, dark-prowed car, 
 
 (Woe worth the bitter hour !) 
 By ships o'er sea that army crossed. 
 
S63-593-] THE PERSIANS. 
 
 On shipboard all their hopes were lost, 
 By ships together hurtling tossed, 
 And fell lonians' power. 
 Our sovereign lord himself, we are told, 
 Through trackless wastes and wintry cold 
 
 Escaped pursuing death, 
 But hardly : Thracia's plains are wide. 
 And till he reach the Asian side 
 
 He draws precarious breath. 
 Others, alas ! foiled by prevenient doom, 
 
 Round the Cenchrean shore 
 Float to and fro, swayed in their wintry tomb. 
 
 Lament them o'er and o'er ! 
 Let poignant grief inspire the long-drawn moan, 
 And naught but sobs impede the heart-derivfed groan. 
 Tost by the terrible waves, they are pulled and torn 
 
 By voiceless mouths — oh, weep ! — 
 Of monstrous uncouth creatures, strangely born 
 
 Of the unpolluted deep. 
 Homes mourn their masters lost, and parents old 
 Lament their childless lot with agonies manifold. 
 Through Asian land the subject folk 
 Prepare them to cast off the yoke ; 
 Tribute no longer will they pay 
 Beneath the Persian's sovran sway. 
 No longer fall in homage prone 
 Before the Achaemenian throne: — 
 The awe of majesty is gone. 
 Men's tongues henceforth are free to range 
 O'er possibilities of change. 
 
 7t 
 
72 THE PERSIANS. [594-620. 
 
 The curb of licence is no more : 
 The government of force is o'er ; 
 Since Aias' surf-surrounded land 
 Holds on her blood-bestainfed strand 
 All Persia's mystery of command. 
 
 Re-enter Atossa. 
 
 At. Friends, whosoe'er hath skill of mortal ways 
 Knows, when the tide of evils is at flood. 
 How all things terrify ; but when the life 
 Flows smoothly, men are confident and sure 
 The same fair fortune will be theirs for aye. 
 My lot this while is girt about with fears ; 
 Heaven's adverse will is plain before my sight ; 
 Mine ears are filled with inauspicious cries ; 
 And all my spirit is amazed with woe. 
 Therefore I come on foot, without my car 
 And all that former pomp, again from home. 
 Bearing unto the father of my child 
 A peace-offering, such as allures the dead. 
 Milk rich and white from a pure cow, bright honey 
 Wrought out of flowers by the industrious bee. 
 With lustral waters from a virgin spring. 
 And living juice from an ungrafled vine. 
 Its ancient mother, bright with quickening cheer. 
 I have also from the grey-green olive-plant. 
 That carries her thick foliage ever young. 
 This fragrant oil j and wreaths of various flowers. 
 Luxuriant off'spring of all-bounteous Earth. 
 
 Ye, then, dear friends, in honour of the dead 
 
620-646.] THE PERSIANS. 73 
 
 Support mine offering with your pious hymn. 
 And summon up from underground to light, 
 Dareius, now a blessed spirit of good, 
 Whilst I commend unto the thirsty ground 
 These honours destined for the powers below. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Most royal lady, revered of the Persians all, 
 
 While thou send'st down to his dwelling beneath the 
 
 ground 
 That pure libation, we with a hymn will call 
 On the powers that conduct the soul o'er the darkling bound 
 To be kind, and release the spirit they hold in thrall. 
 Hermes, and Earth, and King of the Powers of Night, 
 Great holy beings that govern the world below, . 
 Send up, we pray you, his soul from beneath to light ; 
 For a cure of our troublous evils, if cure he know. 
 He alone can tell us in words of revealing might. — 
 Doth the sainted spirit hear us of our royal lord ? 
 
 Hath he caught the clear-toned word 
 From our voices pealing Persian-wise in varied notes of 
 woe? 
 
 Is my prayer by him allowed ? 
 Or mine anguish must I utter in a strain exceeding loud ? 
 Hath he heard my supphcation from below ? 
 Earth and rulers of the people of the shadowy place. 
 
 Send him upward, we implore. 
 Like to none that in past ages Persian earth has covered 
 o'er, 
 
 Persia's God, of Achsemenian race. 
 
74 THE PERSIANS. [647-683. 
 
 Loved was the hero, loved his mound of rest, 
 
 Beloved and mourned the life it hides from day. 
 
 Hades, release of thy great grace, we pray. 
 
 Divine Dareius, of all rulers best ! 
 
 He lost not lives in wars by millions rued. 
 
 But heavenly wise the Persians found him still ; 
 
 Since with deep wisdom and unwavering will 
 
 He steered our armies, like a pilot good. 
 
 Master and lord, appear ! Our lord of old. 
 
 Rise by the summit of thy mound of rest, 
 
 Lifting thy saffron slipper, edged with gold. 
 
 Rearing thy turban, with the imperial crest ; 
 
 Come, father, ancient source of blessings manifold ! 
 
 Come, list the woes of this strange hour of doom ! 
 
 Lord of our lord, let us behold thy form ! 
 
 There hovers o'er our hearts an evU gloom. 
 
 Our youth are perished in a withering storm. 
 
 Father of good, come forth ; we kneel before thy tomb ! 
 
 O woe, woe, woe ! 
 Twofold the blame, redoubled is the blow. 
 Thou whom thy friends must ever freshly mourn, 
 Why hast thou left thine Empire thus forlorn ? 
 Those three-tiered galleys all are gone. 
 Undone, for evermore undone ! 
 
 The Ghost of Dareius appears. 
 
 Dar. O true and tried, corrivals of my youth. 
 Old now and reverend, Persians, what hath chanced ? 
 What grief afflicts the state ? Why groans the plain 
 
683-705.] THE PERSIANS. 7S 
 
 With shuddering tramp of crowds in agony ? 
 
 My soul was softened by the drink-offering, 
 
 Yet fears, when I behold beside my tomb 
 
 My queen and you, that sing your dirges near, 
 
 And sadly summon me from where ye stand 
 
 With ghost-compelling anthems. Hard the road 
 
 From Hades forth to light ; the gods beneath 
 
 Are swift to seize and tardy to let go. 
 
 Yet hath my power with them prevailed. I am here. 
 
 But haste, lest I be censured for delay, 
 
 To tell what new-born trouble weighs you down. 
 
 Cho. We fear to address the spirit of the dead ; 
 We tremble to behold thine honoured head ; 
 We are cowed and voiceless through long- wonted dread. 
 Dar. Nay, since your lament hath drawn me upward 
 from my place of rest, 
 Be not awed, but clear and briefly let your trouble be 
 
 expressed. 
 Nor prolong the tale unduly. Wherefore are ye sore 
 distressed ? 
 Cho. We shrink to obey that call ; we shrink to tell 
 Things hard of utterance to one loved so well. 
 Love joined with grief our silence doth compel. 
 
 Dar. Then, since ye prove speechless, daunted by 
 your long-accustomed fears, 
 Thou, partaker of my chamber, royal lady, bowed with 
 
 years. 
 Tell me something plainly, ceasing from those deep- 
 drawn sobs and cries. 
 Direst evil to frail mortals can but come in human guise. 
 
76 THE PERSIANS. [706-721. 
 
 If their life goes lengthening onward, many griefs to 
 
 mortals all, 
 Some from Earth and some from Ocean, are appointed to 
 befall. 
 At. O Dareius, beyond all men blessfed in thy fortune's 
 course, 
 Envied, while thou saw'st the sunlight, like a god with 
 
 radiant force 
 Thou didst live a life of gladness, honoured to the tran- 
 quil close ; 
 Now in death, 'mid Persia's downfall, envied is thy deep 
 
 repose. 
 Few the words required to tell thee the full measure of 
 
 our woe : — 
 All thine Empire lies in ruin, crushed with cureless over- 
 throw. 
 Dar. Came some plague from the destroyer ? Or hath 
 
 faction torn the state ? 
 At. All our army before Athens perished by the blows 
 
 of Fate. 
 Dar. Say, what son of mine was leader of the host that 
 
 ventured there ? 
 At. Xerxes the impetuous, sweeping Asia of her 
 
 children bare. 
 Dar. Was't by sea or land, infatuate ! he devised that 
 
 fond intent ? 
 At. Earth and Ocean felt the presence of his twofold 
 
 armament. 
 Dar. How could that stupendous army pass to Europe 
 on dry land ? 
 
722-73S-] THE PERSIANS. 77 
 
 At. Made to cross the firth of Hellb, by his engineers 
 
 o'erspanned. 
 Dar. How prevailed he such a barrier on great Bos- 
 
 poros to lay ? 
 At. Some unearthly power was working in his breast 
 
 that fatal day. 
 Dar. Mighty was the power that swayed him, mad the 
 
 boldness of his thought ! 
 At. Now the event reveals the mischief through his 
 
 pride for Persia wrought. 
 Dar. What event ? What stroke hath moved your 
 
 mourning for that host of kings ? 
 At. Ruin on the navy rushing ruin to the army 
 
 brings. 
 Dar. Have my warrior people perished with destruc- 
 tion so complete ? 
 At Susa for her vanished heroes moans in every vacant 
 
 street. 
 Dar. Out, alas for our defenders! for the army's 
 
 staunch array ! 
 At. Bactria mourns her flower of manhood — not a 
 
 head whose hair was grey. 
 Dar. Hapless king ! Of what prime succour feels he 
 
 now the bitter loss ! 
 At. All alone, or with few comrades, so they tell, he 
 
 came to cross 
 Dar. Whither ? Is there aught redeemed us from the 
 
 failure ye deplore ? 
 At. Gladly came he near the bridge-way yoking shore 
 to hostile shore. 
 
78 THE PERSIANS. [736-752. 
 
 Dar. Passed he safely thence to Asia ? Come there 
 
 tidings true and clear ? 
 At. Yea, thereof report is certain, rumoured without 
 
 doubt or fear. 
 Dar. Ah ! too soon the doom is fallen. Zeus hath 
 brought upon my child 
 All the weight foretold of evil. I to fate was reconciled, 
 Thinking Heaven would bring the burden on an issue far 
 
 removed. 
 Now all otherwise, through Xerxes' rashness, hath the 
 
 sequel proved. 
 When a man is bent on ruin, God will help him to his 
 
 fall. 
 Now a fount of ill is opened for himself and Persians 
 
 all; 
 Since, in ignorant youth o'erweening, he would fetter like 
 
 a slave 
 Bosporos divinely flowing with his Hellespontine wave. 
 He would alter Heaven's appointment, and with chains 
 
 from human hands 
 Sought to stay the stream eternal, paving for his countless 
 
 bands 
 Ample roadway, he, a mortal, rashly thinking he could 
 
 foil 
 All the gods and great Poseidon by his hammers' impious 
 
 toil. 
 Sure his heart by Heaven was blinded, and the wealth my 
 
 labour won 
 Lies a prey for the first comer, through the madness of my 
 son. 
 
753-775-] THE PERSIANS. 79 
 
 At. This hath too impetuous Xerxes learnt from men 
 of evil strain, 
 Ever at his ears recounting all the treasure thou didst 
 
 gain 
 For thy house by foreign battles : — " Thou," they whis- 
 pered, " within door 
 Craven-like thy spear dost brandish, adding naught to 
 
 that fair store." 
 Such reproaches oft-times hearing from the men of 
 
 froward mind, 
 That campaign against fair Hellas and those levies he 
 designed. 
 Dar. They have wrought a work, those counsellors, 
 beyond 
 Imagination, — an indelible deed. 
 No such disaster ever heretofore 
 Dispeopled Susa, since the Lord of Heaven 
 O'er all the tribes of teeming Asia 
 Granted one man to wield the imperial sword. 
 Medus first ruled that shepherd host. His son 
 Confirmed the sovereignty, since with wise thought 
 He governed his own spirit. Cyrus then. 
 Third in succession, by his fortunate reign 
 Established peace through all the Persian name, 
 Brought in the Lydian and the Phrygian folk, 
 And sorely ravaged wide Ionia, — 
 Too righteous to provoke the gods to wrath. 
 Fourth ruled his son, Cambyses, great in war. 
 But Mardos, your fifth king, disgraced his land 
 And Persia's ancient palace. Him with guile 
 
8o THE PERSIANS. [776-801. 
 
 Brave Artaphernes in the chamber slew, 
 
 With his brave comrades, destined to that deed. 
 
 Then fell to me the lot I coveted, 
 
 And mighty hosts I led to fields of fame ; 
 
 Yet brought on Persia no such misery. 
 
 But my son Xerxes, young in years and mood, 
 
 Remembers not his father's warning rede. 
 
 A dire forgetting ! for of this be sure, 
 
 Friends of my youth, not all our royal line 
 
 Did harm to equal this that he hath done. 
 
 Cho. Say, Lord Dareius, what shall be the end ? 
 How shall we Persians meet the time to come. 
 How make the best of fortune ? 
 
 Dar. Nevermore 
 
 Wage wars on Hellas, though the Median host 
 Be thrice so many. For the country there 
 Fights for her sons. 
 
 Cho. How meanst thou that the land 
 
 Fights for her men ? 
 
 Dar. The more assailants come 
 
 The more she kills by famine. 
 
 Cho. Then we'll raise 
 
 A chosen band of warriors able and few. 
 
 Dar. Not even the remnant that remains behind 
 To range through Hellas, shall return alive. 
 
 Cho. How ? Doth not all that force of Eastern men 
 Pass Hellfe's ford from Europe hitherward ? 
 
 Dar. Few out of all that multitude — if aught 
 Of credence to Heaven's oracles be due 
 From him who, looking on to-day's event, 
 
S02-829.] THE PERSIANS. 81 
 
 Sees their fulfilment absolute and clear. 
 
 For thus 'tis prophesied. Through idle hope 
 
 Xerxes will leave the choicest of his men 
 
 To winter where Asopus with cool rills 
 
 Waters the plain, giving Boeotia's land 
 
 A draught right welcome. What awaits them there ? 
 
 Vengeance condign for impious violence. 
 
 They came to Hellas, and were not afraid 
 
 To plunder shrines and burn the temples down. 
 
 No reverence held them ; — altars laid in dust, 
 
 Statues uprooted from their pedestals, 
 
 All things divine o'erturned, attest their guilt. 
 
 Nor shall their punishment be less : — they suffer 
 
 Even now, and more shall suffer ; still that fount 
 
 Is gushing, unexhausted, unexplored. 
 
 Platsea's plain shall prove it, pasted over 
 
 With blood of slaughter from the Spartan spear. 
 
 Three generations hence those heaps of slain 
 
 Voiceless shall blazon to posterity 
 
 Loud warnings against human pride. That flower 
 
 Soon falls, and yields calamity for fruit, 
 
 Unlooked-for harvest of dire misery. 
 
 Mark well the wages of their sin, and bear 
 
 Hellas and Athens ever in mind. Let none. 
 
 Raising his heart above the things he hath 
 
 In passionate love for plans unrealized. 
 
 Make shipwreck of great fortune. Zeus brings on 
 
 His inquisition at the destined hour, 
 
 A judge severe to punish boastful thoughts. 
 
 Then ye who may, supplying his chief need. 
 
82 THE PERSIANS. [830-860. 
 
 Spend your well-reasoned counsels on my son, 
 
 And bid him cease provoking Heaven with pride. 
 
 Dear agfed queen, mother of Xerxes, thou 
 
 Bring forth the seemliest raiment from thy store 
 
 And go to meet thy child. O'er all his frame 
 
 The broidered garments, rent in sorrow's rage, 
 
 Hang raggedly, showing the sundered woof. 
 
 Soothe him to mildness with consoling words : 
 
 No other voice but thine will he endure. 
 
 I pass to nether darkness. Agfed friends, 
 
 Though in affliction, give your hearts to joy. 
 
 And cheer your souls with comforts day by day. 
 
 Since wealth avails not in the world of death. \Exit. 
 
 Cho. How many griefs, that are and are to be 
 For the Eastern race, afflict my hearkening mind ! 
 
 At. Sorrows are thronging to my heart, but one 
 Touches me nearest, — oh, the cruel blow ! — 
 Xerxes in rags, — all shame is in that word, 
 All ruin, all despair, all misery ! 
 I will bring forth the costliest ornaments 
 And go with them to meet and comfort him — 
 I'll not forsake my loved one in his woe. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Ah, glorious was the life of Persia then, 
 Untold the blessedness her children found. 
 When the agfed, the all-conquering, the renowned 
 
 Stainless Dareius, god-like among men, 
 Repeller of all harms, ruled Asian ground. 
 
861-898.] THE PERSIANS. 83 
 
 Our armies' prowess then was famed afar, 
 
 The strongholds of our foes were razed and burned, 
 And when the host with happy speed returned 
 
 Unworn and scathless from the field of war, 
 
 Each homestead welcomed all for whom it yearned. 
 
 How many a tribe Dareius erst subdued ! 
 
 Yet passed not westward over Halys' ford 
 Nor stirred from home. The Acheloian brood 
 Of hamlets pight on spreading Strymon's flood 
 
 Hard by the huts of Thracia's warrior horde ; 
 And towns, with towers begirt, on the firm earth 
 
 Beyond that pool, and many on either side 
 With spacious gardens fringing Hellfe's firth 
 Obeyed his voice, and, far from pinching dearth, 
 
 Propontis' coves, and Pontus' opening wide ; 
 
 And the isles that, — where the shores of Asian land 
 
 With jutting cliffs o'erlook the broadening brine, - 
 Surrounded still by surging billows stand. 
 
 As Lesbos, Samos rich in olive and vine, 
 Chios and Paros, Naxos, Myconos, 
 Tenos, with rustic Andros nestling close. 
 And those midway across, whose bright abodes 
 
 Teem with sea-produce, — Lemnos, once the seat 
 Of wax-winged Icarus, Cnidos and Rhodes, 
 
 And Cyprus, — with full many a fair retreat, 
 Paphos the blest. Soli, and Salamis, 
 Whose parent isle has brought our land to this : — 
 
84 THE PERSIANS. [899-925. 
 
 O grief ! And those rich towns he governed then 
 With Persian justice and wise Persian care, 
 
 Peopled with myriads of Hellenic men 
 Throughout Ionia's province large and fair. 
 Boundless resource for war was harboured there, 
 
 Of shielded spearmen and all manner of arms. 
 
 But now by Heaven's fell spite and naval harms 
 
 That hope is killed, never to live again. 
 
 Enter Xerxes. 
 
 Xer. Ay me, 
 
 All hapless for the hateful blow 
 
 That came ere I the signs might know 
 
 Of the dire rage of that harsh power 
 
 Minded to wither Persia's flower. 
 
 Our stock is blasted. Woe is me ! 
 
 How shall I face my destiny ? 
 
 When I behold yon reverend train, 
 
 Strength fails my limbs. My heart were fain, 
 
 O Zeus, that I were buried deep 
 
 With those who sleep the warrior's sleep. 
 Cho. Woe, Xerxes, for that staunch array ! 
 
 Woe, for the Persians' honoured sway ! 
 
 Woe, for the men of chief renown. 
 
 By ruthless Destiny mown down ! 
 
 Our country groans for the young life 
 
 She reared in vain, in Xerxes' strife 
 
 Destroyed, for he hath crammed the grave 
 
 With Persian bodies many and brave : 
 
926-9SO.] THE PERSIANS. 8$ 
 
 Many are gone, our country's bloom, 
 Darkly to dwell within'the tomb. 
 Archers of might, a countless host, 
 Have perished ; — their brave help is lost. 
 
 Alas, the heavy hour ! 
 O sovereign lord, thine Asian land 
 Sinks on her knee, strengthless to stand. 
 
 Strangely bereft of power. 
 
 Xer. Alas ! To the Achsemenian name, 
 I, ill-starred mortal, born to shame. 
 Have caused naught else but loud lament, 
 With hatred from all Asia blent. 
 
 Cho. Like Mariandynian mourner, I 
 Greet thy returning with a cry 
 Of mourning, meditated well, 
 As to prolong some funeral knell. 
 
 Xer. Weep on. Let the harsh notes abound 
 With endless, iterative sound. 
 On me, on me, the destinies turn 
 Their rage, 'gainst me their ire doth burn. 
 
 Cho. I'll utter, then, the hopeless cry 
 Of a whole race in agony ; 
 Such meed of mourning is their due 
 Whom war 'mid seething waters slew. 
 
 Xer. So wrought the Ionian's might, 
 Whom in that gloomy fight 
 Strong Ares made prevail. 
 
86 THE PERSIANS. [950-97S- 
 
 Their armfed prows with shocks 
 Drave on those hapleSs rocks 
 
 Our men, and turned the scale. 
 
 Cho. Then, weeping, I would ask thee more. 
 Where are the chieftains we deplore. 
 Thy comrades ? Where is Susas gone, 
 Where Pharandaces, Pelagon, 
 And Psammis ? Where Agdabatas ? 
 Where Susiscanes, Dotamas, 
 Leaving Ecbatana to moan ? 
 
 Xer. Fallen from a ship of Tyre 
 I left them, soon to expire, 
 
 A prey to hopeless griefs ; 
 Beating their helpless forms, 
 Playthings of ruthless storms, 
 
 On Salaminian reefs. 
 
 Cho. Again with tears I ask, where stood 
 Pharnuchus, Ariomardus good, 
 Princely Seualkes, form divine, 
 Lilffius of the lordly line, 
 Masistras, Memphis, Tharybis, 
 Hystsechmas, Artembares ; — this 
 I bid thee tell me, sovereign mine. 
 
 Xer. Ay me, ay me ! 
 Athena's ancient town 
 They saw, then plunged adown 
 With plashing not of the oar. 
 
976-IOOI.] THE PERSIANS. 87 
 
 They saw her to their death, 
 Now, spent their latest breath, 
 
 They welter on that shore. 
 
 Cho. And him, too, didst thou there forsake, 
 Whose eye would still for Persia wake, 
 And reckon o'er at thy behest 
 Thy millions ? Him, of viziers best, 
 Alpistus good. Sesames' child. 
 Grandson of Megabates mild ? 
 And didst thou leave brave Parthus there ? 
 And tall Arsames ? O despair ! 
 Evil on evil, woe on woe, 
 To Persia's pride thy tale doth show, 
 
 Xer. As on the witch's wheel, 
 Thy cruel words reveal 
 
 My comrades to mine eye. 
 Why must I see again 
 That scene of boundless pain ? 
 
 My heart for them doth cry. 
 
 Cho. Not these alone mine eye demands ; 
 For where are Xanthus and his bands. 
 Ten thousand Mardian warriors ? where 
 Anchares, brave beyond compare, 
 Arsaces and Diaesis, bold 
 Leaders of mounted troops untold ? 
 Cegdabatas', Lythimnas' truth, 
 Keen Tolmus' spear, I miss with ruth. 
 Wondering why they came not in 
 Behind the royal baldachin. 
 
5 THE PERSIANS. [1002-1025. 
 
 Xer. Gone are they who raised the host. 
 Clio. Gone, alas, to nameless gloom. 
 
 Xer. Oh, that levy's bitter cost ! 
 
 Cho. Oh, the cruel hand of doom ! 
 
 Ills beyond the reach of thought. 
 
 Grim as Atfe's glance, it brought. 
 Xer. Stroke too deep for time to change ! 
 Cho. All too plain the tentless wound. 
 
 Xer. Strange affliction ; heavy as strange ! 
 
 Cho. Shipmen from the Ionian sound 
 
 Met them in disastrous hour. 
 
 Woe, for Persia's war-stained flower 1 
 
 Xer. Even so. I am foiled with all that mighty host. 
 
 Cho. To Persia what remains, O man of woe ? 
 
 Xer. See'st thou this remnant of my robe ? 
 
 Cho. I see. 
 
 Xer. This quiver unsupplied ? 
 
 Cho. Another waif 
 
 Snatched from the wreck ? 
 
 Xer. This empty treasure-house 
 
 For arrows vainly spent ? 
 
 Cho. A scanty store 
 
 To save from all that wealth ! 
 
 Xer. My helpers all 
 
 Are stripped from me. 
 
 Cho. Brave are the Ionian men 
 
 In battle, well they stand the brunt of war. 
 
IC26-I047.] THE PERSIANS. 89 
 
 Xer. Too brave ! I ne'er had looked for that I found. 
 
 Cho. Mean'st thou thy navy routed, all that fleet ? 
 
 Xer. I saw it, and rent my robes thereat. 
 
 Cho. Ah, woe ! 
 
 Xer. Woe, beyond all lament. 
 
 Cho. Twofold the stroke; 
 
 Yea, and threefold. 
 
 Xer. Bitter indeed to us, 
 
 But gladsome for our foes. 
 
 Cho. Our prime of strength 
 
 Was there lopped off and crushed. 
 
 Xer. Yea, all my train 
 
 Are torn from me. 
 
 Cho. Thy best of Persian friends 
 
 Failed thee through dire disasters of the deep. 
 
 Xer. Drench sorrow with your tears. Conduct me 
 home, 
 
 Cho. I am steeped with tears that well from sorrow's 
 depth. 
 
 Xer. Re-echo now my wailing. 
 
 Cho. With good will. 
 
 Xer. Wail now in unison. 
 
 Cho. Ah me ! ah me ! 
 
 Full heavy is the weight of grief I bear. 
 And heavier that my heart foresees in store. 
 
 Xer. Strike now in time, and groan for my behoof, 
 Cho. Sad gift that sorrow gives to misery ! 
 
9° THE PERSIANS. [1048-1071. 
 
 Xer. Re-echo now my groaning. 
 
 Cho. Woe, woe, woe ! 
 
 Xer. Now lift the wailing cry. 
 
 Cho. Ah me ! ah me ! 
 
 And mingled with our wail shall come the stroke, 
 (Ah me, alas !) blackening the burdened breast. 
 
 Xer. Beat now your breasts and raise the Mysian cry. 
 
 C}io. O grief, grief, grief! 
 
 Xer. And ravage your white beards. 
 
 Cho. Ay, with clenched hand and sorrow-swollen heart. 
 
 Xer. And lift your high-pitched tones. 
 
 Cho. I will, I will. 
 
 Xer. Rend now with might the folds upon your breast. 
 
 Cho. O grief, grief, grief! 
 
 Xer. Ply hand on hair for ruth. 
 
 Cho. Ay, with clenched hand and pity-laden heart. 
 
 Xer. And let your tears run down. 
 
 Cho. They fall, they fall. 
 
 Xer. Re-echo now my groaning. 
 
 Cho. Woe, woe, woe ! 
 
 Xer. Lead home with lamentation. 
 
 Cho. Ah ! alas ! 
 
 Xer. Unwelcome is my tread to Persian ground. 
 
 Cho. * « « * 
 
 Xer. One cry holds all the city. 
 
 Cho. One loud cry. 
 
1072-1076.] THE PERSIANS. 91 
 
 Xer. Wail, then, approaching softly. 
 Cho. Woe, ah ! woe ! 
 
 For those who perished with the three-tiered hulls ! 
 Xer. Ay me ! 
 
 Reluctantly I tread on Persian ground. 
 Cho. I will conduct thee with sad mourning sound. 
 
SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. 
 
 PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. 
 
 Eteocles, 
 
 Messenger, 
 
 Chorus of Theban Maidens. 
 
 2nd Messenger. 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 Antigone, 
 Herald. 
 
 There were also some mute persons to represent the 
 Theban Elders. 
 
 The Scene is laid in the Cadmeia, or Citadel of Thebes, in an 
 open space before the palace of the Labdacidse. 
 
 Time — during the generation before the Trojan War. 
 
This play, which was performed in B.C. 467, is known to have been 
 the third play of a trilogy on the "Tale of Thebes," consisting of 
 the "Laius," the "CEdipus," and the "Seven," and having the 
 " Sphinx " associated with it as a Satyric drama. 
 
 Although lyrical declamation and narrative have still a large 
 place, this tragedy shows a decided advance on those preceding it, 
 in the development of the action and in power of characterization. 
 
 Eteocles, the central figure, is nobly imagined. Knowing him- 
 self to be the victim of a cruel destiny, and fighting under the 
 shadow of his father's curse, he presents a dauntless brpw to the 
 enmity of the skies, and acts with unabated heroism both as a patriot 
 and as a warrior. Even in going forth to the unnatural encounter 
 with his younger brother (Polynices, in iEschylus, is still the younger), 
 he bears himself with unimpeachable dignity. The trepidation of 
 the Theban women forms the dramatic contrast to this terrible self- 
 possession. The whole tragedy is well described by Aristophanes 
 as 'ApEMS ii.ea-T6v, " crammed full with the very spirit of war." 
 
 Although the final drama of a trilogy, this ends, like the "Sup- 
 pliants, " with divergent utterances on the part of the two halves of the 
 Chorus, such as might have prepared the way for an " Antigone." 
 The art of ^schylus retains something of the grandeur, and also of 
 the indeterminateness, of Epic poetry. 
 
 The six leaders whom Polynices, with the aid of Adrastus of 
 Argos, his brother-in-law, has succeeded in leaguing against his 
 country are, (l) Tydeus, the yEtolian, who had also taken refuge 
 with Adrastus ; (2) Capaneus, the son-in-law, and (3) Eteoclus, the 
 son of Iphis, late King of Argos ; (4) Hippomedon, sou of Talaus, an 
 Argive ; (5) Parthenopaeus, the Arcadian, son of Atalanta and 
 Meilanion, (6) Amphiaraus, the prophet, who had been induced 
 to take the fatal step, of which he foreknew the issue, by his 
 treacherous wife Eriphyle, the sister of Adrastus. The lines in 
 which his noble integrity are described are said to have been 
 applied by the Athenian audience to Aristides. 
 
SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. 
 
 Eteocles. 
 Cadmeian citizens, what man soe'er 
 Hath charge to wield aright the helm of state, 
 Must keep strict watch, nor once offend in word. 
 His eyelids may not slumber. If success 
 Be ours, " Some god has done it." If mishap, 
 Which Heaven forefend, should visit us, then I, 
 One man in many mouths, through all this town 
 Shall hear myself decried with hymns of hate 
 And fierce reverberate groans. May Warder Zeus, 
 True to his name, ward such from Cadmus' town ! 
 Meanwhile 'tis yours, according to your might. 
 Whether now in the prime age beseeming war, 
 Or of young limbs and tender, or in eld 
 Still nourishing strong nerves with vigorous blood, 
 To aid your city and your country's gods, — ■ 
 Whose altars here are threatened with disgrace, — 
 And your own offspring, and your native land, 
 Mother and nurse, that, while in infancy 
 Ye crept about on her kind bosom, took 
 The burden of your nurture all on her, 
 
96 SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. [i9-47- 
 
 And reared you up, her trusty shield-bearers, 
 To stead her in this day of her distress. 
 So far, the gods are with us. To this hour, 
 Beleaguered all this while, the chance of war. 
 By Heaven's consent, hath most inclined our way. 
 Then rise to what ensues. For now the seer. 
 Shepherd of birds, who, in his ears and mind, 
 With art infallible discerns their flight. 
 Nor needs flame-tokens, — he, Teiresias, saith — 
 By divination thus assured and clear — 
 To-night the Achaian host, in council met, 
 Are planning their main onset 'gainst our town. 
 Come, man the battlements, crowd every post. 
 Each to his post in panoply go forth. 
 Line well the ramparts, mount the embrasures. 
 Meet them undaunted at the gates, nor fear 
 Their foreign numbers. God shall guide the event. 
 For my part I have sent my scouts to scan 
 Yond' host ; — nor idly, if my faith be true. 
 Their sure report shall guard us from surprise. 
 
 Enter Messenger. 
 
 Mess. Dread Lord Eteocles, our people's king, 
 From yonder host I come with tidings clear. 
 Myself the eyewitness of the things I tell. 
 Seven goodly champions, chiefs of seven bands, 
 Shed blood of bulls in hollow dark-rimmed shield, 
 And dipped their fingers in the crimson gore, 
 And sware by all the powers of murdering war 
 Either to raze this city to the ground 
 
47-73-] SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. 97 
 
 And ravage Thebes with hostile violence, 
 
 Or stain our clime with carnage in their death. 
 
 Then fastened they around Adrastus' car 
 
 Mementos of themselves to travel home 
 
 Unto their parents, — wherewithal they wept. 
 
 But never sound of sorrow left their lips, 
 
 Since the high temper of their iron hearts 
 
 Aflame with valour, breathed the dauntless mood 
 
 Of lions glaring with intent of war. 
 
 Nor halt they to fulfil their oath. The lot 
 
 Was falling as I left them, that should 'point 
 
 Each chief the port whereon to march his men ; 
 
 Wherefore, at every gateway's going forth. 
 
 Set thou with speed our city's noblest sons ; 
 
 Since now at hand their host with spear and shield 
 
 Tramples the ground, and on yon plain are cast 
 
 White foam-like flakes from lungs of armfed steeds. 
 
 Thou then, our pilot, make the bulwarks firm 
 
 Of this our vessel, ere the blast of war 
 
 Descend on her : full loudly yonder surge 
 
 Roars from the land. Seize thou the present hour. 
 
 While I shall keep, as heretofore, the glance 
 
 Of a true watchman, that intelligence 
 
 Of things without may shield thee well from harm. 
 
 \Exit. 
 Eteodes. Zeus, Earth, ye guardian deities, and thou 
 Mightiest of all for ill, curse of my sire, 
 Extirpate not with ravage of the foe 
 My country, I entreat you ; spare her fall ! 
 Destroy not homes where Grecian voices sound. 
 
98 SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. [74-'04- 
 
 Let Cadmus' town still live at liberty 
 
 From foreign domination ; nor impose 
 
 On Thebes the yoke of bondage. Be her aid ! 
 
 Methinks my prayer must suit with your own wills ; 
 
 For countries fortunate give gods their due. 
 
 Chorus {entering. 
 
 We cry aloud for fear. O day of woe ! 
 
 They have left the camp. They are on their way. The 
 
 host 
 Is streaming hither, horsemen in the van, 
 A mounted multitude. The dust persuades me, 
 Seen in the sky, dumb harbinger, but sure. 
 The tramp of hoofs upon the nearer plain 
 Falls on mine ear, threatening captivity. 
 It hovers close at hand, the heightening roar 
 As of wild waters irresistible 
 
 Rending the hills. Ah gods ! Ah goddess-powers ! 
 Avert the coming woe ! With deafening shouts 
 They are rushing on to scale oux city walls. 
 Armed all in white, armed for pursuit, for capture ! 
 Who shall defend us, who shall save ? what god, 
 What goddess-power ? Where shall I kneel and pray ? 
 Which shrine shall serve ? O blessed ones, I hail 
 Your holy presences ! 'Tis time, 'tis time 
 To cling to present gods. Why do we groan 
 And linger ? Hear ye not the smitten shield ? 
 When, if not now, should supplicating robes 
 And wreaths be in request ? The sound is clear. 
 Nay visible ! the clash of many a spear ! 
 
105-144] SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. 99 
 
 War-god, that from of old inheritest 
 
 Our Theban earth, wilt thou betray her now ? 
 
 What wilt thou do ? Desert thine own ? Bright god 
 
 Of the golden helm, look on the land, the town, 
 
 Long since thy well-belovbd. One and all, 
 
 God-guardians of our city, come,, behold 
 
 This maiden-league against captivity ! 
 
 Wild waves around the wall, borne on by blasts 
 
 Of Ares' breath, slant-crested waves of men,. 
 
 Are flashing at the gate. Father of all. 
 
 Save us from capture ; stay the enemy's hand ! 
 
 Round Cadmus' citadel with dire alarms 
 
 The Argive foemen close with terror of arms. 
 
 The curb-chains of their chargers as they ride 
 
 Ring knells of warriors clad in mailed pride. 
 
 Seven valiant chiefs before them, spear in hand. 
 
 Each at the allotted gateway, take their stand. 
 
 O daughter of the Highest,, lover of fight, 
 
 Pallas, defend our country with thy might,. 
 
 And thou, Poseidon, ruler of the deep, 
 
 Let thy shark-spearing weapon through them sweep. 
 
 And free us from this tyranny of fear. 
 
 O Lord of war, deliver Cadmus' town, 
 
 The city from of old declared thine own ; 
 
 Let thy fond care for her to sight appear. 
 
 First mother of Cadmeians old and young, 
 
 Cypris, defend us all ! From thee we are sprung, 
 
 Who now, with prayers that pierce the immortal ear. 
 
 Meekly surround thy sacred altars here. 
 
!0 SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. [i4S-i73- 
 
 O wolf-slaying lord, stirred by our groans and cries, 
 Send slaughter on our wolfish enemies ! 
 Kind maiden, daughter of Latona, thou 
 Make ready for the fight thy silver bow. 
 Ah, ah ! All round I hear the rattling car, 
 
 (Hera, dread lady of the skies !) 
 The wheels about the burdened axles jar, 
 
 (Kind maiden, Artemis, arise !), 
 All the air is hurtling with their brandished spears. 
 Where stands our city's weal ? What shall be done ? 
 
 What issue of our fears 
 Will the everlasting gods bring on ? 
 Ah, ah ! they come ! Slung stones are glancing o'er 
 
 Our battlements (Apollo kind !) 
 Through every gate is heard the rising roar. 
 
 Borne inward on the troubled wind, 
 From myriad brazen shields beaten in scorn. 
 
 Yea, but of war the righteous last event 
 In highest Heaven is born. 
 And from great Zeus with saving power is sent. 
 O blessed Onka, that o'erlook'st our town. 
 Protect thy seven-gated home's renown. 
 
 Divine defenders all, 
 
 Come at our maiden call, 
 Warders sublime of Thebfe's holy land. 
 
 Leave not in war's alarms 
 
 Your city to dire harms 
 Of cruel onslaught by an alien band ; 
 But hear our cry : mark well the uplifted hand. 
 
I74-200.J SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. ic 
 
 Keep watch around the gate, 
 
 Save Thebes in her dire strait, 
 Kind powers that ever shield her from above ! 
 
 Recall each hallowed rite 
 
 And aid in stress of fight 
 This people that have shown you faithful love : 
 Think of your altars, and our saviours prove ! 
 
 Eteocles. 
 
 Tell me, ye creatures unendurable. 
 Is this the noblest course, the State's defence. 
 The rallying note for our beleaguered men. 
 That ye should fall before each public shrine, 
 With your shrill outcry, hated of the wise ? 
 Neither in trouble nor kind prosperous days 
 Let me be housed with women ! When they rule 
 Their boldness is the bane of peaceful life ; 
 And once afraid, they bring worse misery 
 To home and country. Even as ye to-day. 
 Coursing with senseless hurry to and fro. 
 Set up a noise that genders heartless fear ; 
 Whereby the foreigner's advantage grows,. 
 And Thebes is ravaged inly by ourselves. 
 So fares the man whom women dwell withal. 
 Howbeit, what soul soe'er defies my sway. 
 Woman or man or neither, if so be, 
 The doom of ruin with fell purpose waits 
 To o'erwhelm them with dire stoning of the folk. 
 For business out of door let men have care, 
 And let not women be our counsellors ; 
 
102 SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. [201-226. 
 
 Bide within doors, nor hinder us. Do ye hear ? 
 Or do I prate all idly to deaf ears ? 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Dear prince of Laius' line, my spirits sank 
 To hear the rattling chariot, the harsh clank 
 Of nave on axle of the whirling wheel. 
 
 Hark, hark ! the fire-forged steel 
 That rudder-like controls the hard-mouthed steed 
 Is jangling with his motion of dire speed. 
 
 Et And when the ship is labouring in mid seas, 
 Say, doth the sailor fly from stern to stem. 
 So to find rescue from a watery death ? 
 
 Cho. Firmly believing in the powers divine 
 I hurried forward to each ancient shrine ; 
 When round our gates the deadly hail-shower flew. 
 
 Nearer in prayer I drew 
 To the blest gods, driven by my fears, that they 
 Might shield our town with their immortal sway. 
 
 Et. Pray that these walls may fend the fioeman's spear. 
 
 Cho. Yea, while the gods uphold them. 
 
 Et. Nay, the gods 
 
 Desert, 'tis said, the conquered country's domes. 
 
 Cho. Ne'er in my lifetime let yond' holy throng 
 Desert my land, nor let me see the foe 
 Scouring these streets, quelling the bold and strong 
 In fiery overthrow ! 
 
 Et. Temper with prudence your fond piety. 
 Obedience is the mother of success — 
 A helpful off'spring. So tradition holds. 
 
227-2S4J SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. 103 
 
 Cho. True — but the strength of Heaven is over all, 
 And often out of depths of dire despair, 
 God lifts the hopeless after heaviest fall, 
 Though dark clouds choke the air. 
 
 Et. Leave it to men to render sacrifice 
 And victims to the gods ; when foemen strive, 
 'Tis thine to keep indoors and hold thy peace. 
 
 Cho. Through gods we have our city unsubdued, 
 And these towers brave the tide of foemen rude. 
 What wrath can that call down ? 
 
 Et. I grudge no honour thou wouldst pay to Heaven ; 
 But keep thy panic within bounds, nor move 
 Our men to cowardice. Therefore be calm. 
 
 Cho. Hearing the unwonted din, with fears distraught 
 The topmost sanctuary I straightway sought — 
 Dread seat of blest renown. 
 
 Et. Now then, if ye be told that some are slain 
 Or wounded, catch not at the news with cries. 
 The War-god feeds him with the slaughter of men. 
 
 Cho. Lo, there ! I hear the chargers neighing high ! 
 
 Et. Then make not too apparent what ye hear. 
 
 Cho. The town's foundation groans ! They close us 
 round ! 
 
 Et. Is't not enough I am taking thought for that ? 
 
 Cho. Battering at gates grows loud ! I am full of dread ! 
 
 Et. Go to ! speak naught of this for Thebes to hear. 
 
 Cho. O gathered powers, forsake not our strong wall ! 
 
 Et. A plague on you ! Be silent and endure. 
 
 Cho. Dear fellow-Theban gods ! No bonds for me ! 
 
 Et. You bring them on yourself and all the town. 
 
104 SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. [255-284. 
 
 Cho. Almighty Zeus, send lightning on our foes ! 
 
 Et. O Zeus, in woman what a race thou gavest ! 
 
 Cho. Wretched, as men are, in captivity. 
 
 Et. Again you cling to yonder shrines and cry. 
 
 Cho. My heart is weak, terror usurps my tongue. 
 
 Et. Yet grant to my desire one light request. 
 
 Cho. Wouldst thou but name it ! Let me hear and know., 
 
 Et. Cease talking, wretched one, fright not thy friends. 
 
 Cho. I have done. With others I will bear my doom. 
 
 Et. That speech of thine I am better pleased withal. 
 Besides, I bid you, standing well away 
 From the images, hope ever for the best. 
 Looking to Heaven for succour. Hear my vow, 
 And answer it with joyous voiceful hymn. 
 As wont is at Hellenic sacrifice. 
 Heartening to friends, dispersing hostile fear. 
 I vow to all our land-sustaining gods. 
 Both of the plain, and the mid-market-place, 
 To Dirkfe's fountain and Ismenus' stream. 
 When all is well, and Thebfe rests secure. 
 That we will stain with blood of bulls and sheep 
 The hearths and homes of the gods, and thereabove 
 Uprear our trophies, fastening to their walls. 
 With captive spears, the raiment of our foes 
 Festooned around their temples. Hereunto 
 Add ye your prayers and offerings, not with groans 
 Or vain repeating of wild babblement. 
 Seeing nought hereof will alter destiny. 
 I go to find six champions who, with me 
 For seventh, shall stand at our seven outward ports ; 
 
285-316.] SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. 105 
 
 Ere hurried message and swift-rumoured news 
 
 Astound us with the blaze of utmost need. \_Exit. 
 
 Chorus. 
 My reason yields, but soothes not these alarms. 
 For anxious thoughts, close to my spirit's core, 
 
 Rekindle evermore 
 The flame of terror for these leaguering arms ; 
 Even as some dove beside the serpent's lair 
 Broods all a-tremble o'er her nestlings there. 
 
 What shall be done ? Our walls are strong ; 
 Yet onward moves their countless throng, 
 
 A firm compacted ring ! 
 While, cresting that tumultuous tide. 
 Their hurrying bands from every side 
 The deadly hand-stone fling. 
 O Zeus-born powers, from heaven descend, 
 And Cadmus' children mightily defend ! — 
 Say, to what land of warriors should ye go 
 Deserting Thebfe's plain of fertile soil. 
 
 And yielding to the foe 
 Dirkfe's dear fountain, to the sons of toil 
 Most nourishing of all the streams that flow 
 By gift of him whose waves enfold the earth. 
 Or that from sons of Tethys have their birth? 
 Then, guarding still this ancient town. 
 Win from our citizens renown. 
 
 Sending on yonder host 
 The homicidal power of flight 
 That guides nor shield nor spear aright, 
 But yields all arms for lost. 
 
io6 SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. [317-346- 
 
 Then 'mid loud praises shall ye stand 
 On lofty thrones, defenders of our land. 
 
 'Twere full of pity, sure, to plunge in night 
 A land thus grey with time, the Achaians' prey 
 And spear-driven captive, in forlorn despite 
 Heaven-strewn with ashes in her evil day, — 
 To see dragged off to bondage by the hair. 
 As filUes by the mane — their garments fair 
 Being rent around them — maids and elder dames ; 
 While all the city that escapes the flames 
 Is filled with outcry, ransacked and laid bare, 
 'Midst clamour of wild rapine, waste, despair. 
 
 Confusion ! — I foresee with fear 
 The heavy hand of ruin hovering near. — 
 Piteous, ere lawful rites may cull the flower. 
 Fresh from child-nurture, for a journey strange 
 And horrible to leave the virgin-bower ; 
 Nay, death were better than such forceful change. 
 Ah, much unhappiness, when cities fall. 
 Finds harbourage within the battered wall ; 
 Slaughter, captivity, the flaring brand. 
 Death, rapine, conflagration on each hand. 
 While the mad War-god, breathing hate to all 
 The reverence he besmirches, hastes to enthrall 
 
 The people, and with blood and smoke 
 Mars the fair town, that quails beneath the stroke. 
 
 Weird, hollow noises haunt the frighted streets. 
 Where man his foeman meets 
 
346-37 1 J SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. 107 
 
 And falls ; the fenced towers are netted round, 
 
 While tender cries resound 
 From infant throats, late feeding at the breast, 
 
 Bleeding and torn from the maternal nest. 
 Plunder and hurly-burly hand in hand, 
 
 Own sisters, range the land ; 
 As robber upon burdened robber falls, 
 
 And greed on hunger calls 
 For partner of his booty and his toil, — 
 Each eager to have most when all divide the spoil. 
 How fares it with the spoiled .? I need not tell : 
 Whoe'er can reason may conjecture well. — 
 All manner of produce lying at random round. 
 
 Cast forth upon the ground. 
 Cuts to the heart sad seneschals who gaze, 
 
 And see in tangled maze 
 The precious foison of all bounteous Earth 
 On that rough surge drifted, as nothing worth. 
 Young captive maids find for their earliest grief 
 
 A sorrow past relief, 
 The rude lust of an overbearing lord. 
 
 What help can hope afford ? 
 Ruthless in triumph is the exulting foe, 
 Death is their only hope, the only friend they know. 
 For him they look to close their eyes in night 
 And free them from wild weeping and affright. 
 
 Leader of Chorus. Dear maids, methinks the scout from 
 
 the army brings 
 New tidings for our ears. His nimble feet 
 Run as on wheels, urged by his eager will. 
 
io8 SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. [372-402- 
 
 And lo ! the prince himself, of Laius' line, 
 Comes fittingly to take the man's report. 
 He, too, moves eagerly with steps of haste. 
 
 Mess. With perfect knowledge I will tell thee now 
 The purpose of the foe : which port by lot 
 Each chief assails. — Tydeus already shouts 
 To assault the Proetan gate, but the wise seer 
 Forbids to cross the Ismenus, for the signs 
 Are adverse. Tydeus, mad with battle-thirst, 
 A noon-day dragon, screams, reviling sore 
 The prophet Amphiaraiis, CEcles' son, 
 With taunts of cowardice, as tendering life 
 Too dearly ; thus he roars, and proudly waves 
 The triply-shadowing plumage of his helm. 
 Beneath his buckler bells of brazen tone 
 Clang terror, and it bears this haughty sign — 
 A heaven ablaze with stars, cunningly wrought. 
 While beaming on mid-shield the orbfed moon. 
 Eye of the night, queen among stars, appears. 
 Thus rampant in his over-daring arms 
 Shouts on the river brink this lover of war. 
 Like fiery steed that pants upon the bit 
 And strains to start, hearing the trumpet sound. 
 What adversary, when the Proetan gate 
 Is opened, wilt thou trust to oppose him there ? 
 
 Et. I blench at no man's blazon, fear no wound 
 From emblems : plumes and bells without the spear 
 Hurt not. Nay, more. This night whereof thou tellest 
 Portrayed upon his shield with heavenly signs, 
 May hold a mystic meaning, rightly weighed. 
 
403-43I-] SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. 109 
 
 If night shall fall upon his eyes in death, 
 
 This proud device will designate aright 
 
 The destined downfall of the shield-bearer, 
 
 Whose insolent thought thus prophesies his end. 
 
 For adversary to defend the gate 
 
 I will appoint the son of Astacus 
 
 Melanippus here, a man of noble strain, 
 
 One who reveres the throne of modesty. 
 
 And hates high-vaunting words ; of bearing still 
 
 And quiet, save where honour stirs him on ; 
 
 Sprung from that remnant whom the War-god spared 
 
 Of the earth-born seed, — a true son of the soil. 
 
 The powers of war shall rule the event ; but he 
 
 By law of kindred predetermined stands 
 
 From his own mother to repel the foe. 
 
 Cho. Gods, grant our warrior good success ! He 
 goes 
 A rightful champion to withstand our foes. 
 Trembling I look, lest precious lives be spent 
 For precious lives in bootless hardiment. 
 
 Mess. Well may he prosper with the help of Heaven ! 
 The Electran gate hath fallen to Capaneus, 
 A Titan form yet taller than the first, 
 Whose threatful vaunt surpasses human pride. 
 Fortune forbid the accomplishment ! He swears, 
 God willing or not willing, he will scale 
 The wall and sack the city, though from Heaven 
 Dread Discord stalk the plain to beat him back. 
 Zeus' thunderbolts and lightning he compares 
 To beams of summer noon-day. For a sign 
 
no SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. [432-460. 
 
 He bears a man unarmed with lighted brand 
 For single weapon, whose announcement runs 
 In golden letters, "I will burn your town." 
 What adversary shall cope with one so bold 
 Or bide undaunted such a challenger ? 
 
 Et. This blazon, too, breeds profit for our cause, 
 Since of vain thoughts men's tongues accusing them. 
 Fail not of judgment. Capaneus is loud 
 In threats which he will wreak in scorn o£ Heaven- 
 Through foolish transport his incautious tongue 
 With mortal vehemence hurls against the sky 
 Big billowy words to offend the supreme ear. 
 But I am confident the flash wUl come 
 Of righteous vengeance to transpierce his pride, 
 Armed with a flame in no wise comparable 
 To Helios' noontide warmth. Yet, man to man., 
 He, too, though proud, shall find his opposite. 
 Burning with valour, Polyphontes fierce, 
 Well warranted for wardship, by the grace 
 Of Artemis, with other powers to aid. 
 Now tell us of another challenger 
 Standing for Argos at a differenit port. 
 
 Cho. Perish the man who vaunts his impious force 
 Against our town ! May Heaven arrest his course 
 With lightning, ere his over-mastering power 
 Have torn my life from the protecting bower ! 
 
 Mess. I'll tell thee who stands next to assault a gate. 
 The third lot from the upturned brazen helm 
 Leapt for Eteoclus, whom Fortune bids 
 Assail the port Neistan with his troop. 
 
461-487.] SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. iii 
 
 Thither he wheels his chargers, snorting loud 
 
 With eagerness to dash against the gate. 
 
 Their nozzle-pipes, in savage fashion filled 
 
 With boastful breath, give forth a shrilly sound ; 
 
 And on his shield no mean device is shown — 
 
 A warrior, armed, climbs up a ladder set 
 
 Against a tower manned by his enemies, 
 
 As bound to carry it by storm, and cries 
 
 (Here too the legend is distinct and clear), 
 
 " Not ares' self shall throw me from the wall ! " 
 
 To oppose him, too, send one well-warranted 
 
 To ward from Thebes the yoke of servitude. 
 
 Et. I would send him without fail, but by good hap 
 He is passed already forth, great Creon's son 
 Megareus, of th' earthborn seed, who shall not yield 
 His station at the gate for any steed's 
 Wild snortings, but will either die and pay 
 The boon land for his nurture, or will take 
 Two armours and the city on the shield 
 For his own prize to adorn his father's hall. 
 He bears no blazon but his own right hand. 
 Brag now — and stint not — the next challenger. 
 
 Cho. May fortune speed thee ('tis my fervent prayer) 
 O champion of our homes ; ill may they fare 
 Who vaunt high words against our city's peace ; 
 According to their madness of intent 
 May wrathful Zeus look down in punishment 
 And make their pride to cease. 
 Mess. Fourth challenger, with noisy vehemence. 
 At the gate neighbouring Pallas Onka, stands 
 
112 SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. [488-514. 
 
 The portly stature of Hippdmedon. 
 
 I will e'en confess I shuddered as he whirled 
 
 That disk so vast, I mean his circling shield. 
 
 No commonplace engraver framed the sign 
 
 On that circumference. 'Tis Typhon, pouring 
 
 Through fiery jaws black smoke — to flickering flame 
 
 Own sister. And about the hollow womb 
 
 Of that firm orb are fixed, as on a ground, 
 
 Twined wreaths of serpents. He himself, moreover, 
 
 Shouted, as with the War-god's spirit possessed. 
 
 He raves for conflict with fear-striking glance 
 
 As of a Bacchanal. Such foe's assault 
 
 Calls for much care in the defence. Already 
 
 Menace of rout is rife at yonder gate. 
 
 Et. First, Pallas Onka shall defend her own, 
 Hating the man's insensate arrogance. 
 She dwells beside our city at that gate. 
 To guard her brood as from the serpent's tooth. 
 Then for a man to meet him, CEnops' son. 
 Valiant Hyperbius hath been chosen, a man 
 Willing to know Fate's pleasure in the event : — 
 In form and spirit, as in panoply. 
 Flawless. The lottery's chance by Hermes' skill 
 Hath matched them not amiss. The men are foes. 
 And hostile each to each the gods they'll bear 
 Grappling together on their shields : the one 
 Typhon, flame-breathing, while Hyperbius 
 Hath father Zeus for blazon, seated firm. 
 In act of onset, lightning-bolt in hand. 
 And no man yet hath seen Zeus overcome. 
 
515-S42J SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. 113 
 
 Such benefit of aid divine have we : — 
 Victorious powers for us ; vanquished for them. 
 Whence one may argue that the men opposed 
 May likewise fare : — Zeus is a combatant 
 Of valour more than Typhon, and shall save 
 Hyperbius with the blazoned lightning there. 
 
 Cho. I firmly hope the warrior who doth wield 
 The rebel monster's form upon his shield — 
 The foe of Zeus that gods and mortals hate, 
 The loveless earthborn power whom one and all, 
 Divine and human, execrate, — shall fall 
 Head-first before the gate. 
 
 Mess. Even so may it prove I And now the fifth I 
 name. 
 Appointed to the fifth, the northward port, 
 Hard by Zeus-born Amphion's holy tomb. 
 He by the spear he wields, which he doth worship 
 Beyond all gods, prizing it more than sight, 
 Swears he will sack Thebfe by force of war. 
 Such vow, such prayer is his, the fair-faced man 
 Of boyish mien, the mountain mother's pride. 
 The downy growth of genial youthful bloom 
 Peers freshly on his cheek, but lush and full. 
 With spirit unlike his maiden-sounding name, 
 With ruthless heart and flashing glance, he comes. 
 Nor without blazon stands he at your gate. 
 Since on the brass-forged rounded shield he throws 
 Before his goodly person, he displays 
 Thebfe's reproach, the raw-devouring Sphinx, 
 Riveted on, a bright embossed device. 
 
114 SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. [543-565- 
 
 Beneath whose figure a Cadmeian man 
 Is so disposed that of all shafts i' the fight 
 Most shall be hurled at him. This-hero moves 
 As minded to deal wholesale with his foes, 
 Nor bring disgrace on his long journeying 
 From far Arcadia, whence to Argolis 
 Parthenopaeus came ; a sojourner 
 Who means to pay his debt of maintenance 
 By wreaking on these towers such menace huge 
 As I pray Heaven the gods may render void. 
 
 E'. Ay, let the gods but visit their intents 
 With like for like ; they and their impious vaunts 
 Shall utterly be quenched in misery. 
 For your Arcadian, he too hath his match : 
 A man not given to boasting, but whose arm 
 Fails not at need ; brother of him last named. 
 Actor. No deedless tongue, how bold soe'er, 
 Shall by his leave rush in to vex our town 
 With evil menace ; nor will he permit 
 The man who bears upon his hostile shield 
 That hateful ravening plague, to enter here, 
 But she without shall wrangle with the chief 
 Who brings her Thebes-ward, since beneath these walls 
 She is battered so unsparingly. May Heaven 
 But grant my bold vaticination true ! 
 
 Cho. My bosom thrills, pierced through with words of 
 fear: 
 My plaited hair starts upright, when I hear 
 The high-voiced vauntings of that impious band. 
 May Heaven destroy them yonder in our land ! 
 
566-593-] SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. 115 
 
 Mess. I come to the sixth challenger, a man 
 Of perfect temperance, most brave in war, 
 The valiant prophet Amphiaraiis : he, 
 Embattled at the Homolo'ian gate. 
 Breaks forth on Tydeus with reproaches loud 
 And manifold : " Author of many deaths. 
 Mover of Argos unto evil ways. 
 The fury's summoner, grim slaughter's page, 
 Adrastus' counsellor in all this ill ; " 
 Then calUng on thy brother, glancing back 
 On your sire's awful fate, naming the son 
 In the end twice o'er, — " Polynices, fraught with strife," — 
 He thus denounces him : " A goodly deed. 
 Admired of Heaven, well-fitting to be told 
 And heard by times to come, to sack and burn 
 One's native town, profaning all the gods 
 Of one's own race, ruining hearth and home 
 With rash invasion of an alien league ! 
 What right may countervail a mother's claim. 
 Or dry that well-spring ? How then shall the land 
 Whence thou art sprung, made captive by thy will. 
 E'er be thy friend to fight for thee P^'Tis mine 
 To enrich this soil, a prophet underground 
 Within the border of my foes. Then, on ! 
 I hail the battle, hoping for an end 
 Not void of honour." Thus the prophet cried, 
 And reared his shield of massy bronze. No sign 
 Blazed on that orb, for 'tis his firm intent 
 Not to seem noblest, but to be ; so reaping 
 Rich harvest of deep-furrowed thoughtfulness 
 
Il6 SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. [594-623. 
 
 That brings forth fruit of counsel wise and true. 
 Send, then, to labour at the opposing oar, 
 Men of tried skill and faithfulness. The man 
 Who fears the blessed gods, is to be feared. 
 
 Et. Woe worth the auspice of the day that joins 
 The righteous with the worst of evil men ! 
 That harvest hath no ingathering. The tilth 
 Of madness brings forth death. Either at sea, 
 Embarked with hot-brained sailors bent on crime, 
 The pious per-isheth with that fell crew 
 Abhorred of Heaven ; or, loving righteousness, 
 But dwelling in a city of bad men 
 Forgetful of the gods, inhospitable, 
 He is caught in the same toils of righteous doom. 
 And, by the universal scourge o'ertaken. 
 Is quelled. Even so this prophet, CEcles' son. 
 Just, faithful, temperate, pious and brave. 
 Potent with inspiration, being conjoined 
 Maugre his judgment with their impious threats 
 Who lead from far this onslaught on our land. 
 Shall with them be o'erwhelmed by the act of Heaven ! 
 Yet hardly can I think he will come near 
 To assail the gate, — not through faint-heartedness. 
 But knowing he must die in that assault, 
 Or else make void the word of Loxias, 
 Who speaks not save in season. Ne'er the less 
 We will appoint his match, tall Lasthenes, 
 A gate-keeper not kind to comers-in. 
 One old in wisdom though of youthful frame, 
 An eye of nimble range, a hand not slow 
 
624-650.] SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. 117 
 
 To wrest the spear uncovered of the shield. 
 Howbeit, good fortune is the gift of Heaven. 
 
 Cho. Hearken, ye gods, to our most righteous prayer ! 
 Grant that our city nobly still may fare ; 
 Against the invader turn the troublous fight, 
 Heaven-smitten beyond the barriers, in our sight ! 
 
 Mess. Seventh by lot to the seventh gate assigned 
 Is thine own brother. Listen, while I tell 
 What issue he desires, what cause he invokes : 
 Either to set his foot upon your wall 
 Proclaimed your city's lord, and, with a shout 
 Of triumph in her capture, there to meet 
 With thee in conflict, slay thee, and be slain 
 Together ; or, both living, be revenged. 
 Banishing thee his banisher, even so 
 As thou didst outrage kinship on his head. 
 So Polynices cries, and in his rage 
 Bids all the gods of his own land and race 
 Visit his prayer with full accomplishment. 
 His new-wrought buckler, lightly swayed, hath on it 
 A two-fold token, to the purpose framed ; 
 A man of beaten gold, in panoply, 
 As 'twould appear, is led by a fair dame 
 Full modestly attired, whose legend runs. 
 In letters all of gold, — " Justice am I ! 
 
 And I WILL RE-ESTABLISH IN HIS RIGHT 
 
 This warrior here \ he shall return and rule 
 
 His native city and his father's house." 
 
 I tell thee their devices ; 'tis for thee 
 
 To judge whom thou wilt send : — mine to report ; 
 
ii8 SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. [651-679. 
 
 And thou slialt find all my reporting true : — 
 Thine to be Thebfe's pilot in the storm. 
 
 Et. O Heaven-infatuate, God-abandonfed ! 
 O race of OEdipus, our race, ill-starred ! 
 Woe's me, my father's curse even now comes true. 
 Yet ill would it beseem me here to weep ; 
 Lest tears give birth to heavier cause of woe. 
 But for this man of strife, for Polynices, 
 Soon shall be known the end of that device, 
 If the gold writing on his shield emblazed. 
 And blatant with wild hopes, shall bring him home. 
 Had Justice, virgin daughter of the Highest, 
 Truly attended him in thought and deed. 
 This might have been. But never upon him, 
 Neither in issuing from the darkling womb, 
 Nor in the dawn and springtime of his youth. 
 Nor when the manly growth upon his chin 
 Was gathering, hath great Justice looked and smiled. 
 Nor in his native country's sore distress 
 May I believe she'll stand by him to-day. 
 Unjustly would she bear the honoured name 
 Of Justice, to consort with that rash mind. 
 Whereon relying, I will go forth and stand 
 Myself to oppose him : — who more fit than I ? 
 Commander with commander, foe with foe, 
 Brother with brother, I will conflict. Bring forth 
 My greaves, to fend the sling-stone and the spear ! 
 
 Cho. Dear son of CEdipus, let not thy mood 
 Be like to his of the ill-omened name ! 
 Enough that Argive and Cadmeian come 
 
68o-7p6.] SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. 119 
 
 To the issue : blood so shed hath power to cleanse. 
 But death of brothers, each by a brother's hand, — 
 That were a stain no time could purify. 
 
 Et. If ill must come, let honour be secure ; 
 No other gain accrues to men when dead. 
 The craven dastard hath no glory in death. 
 
 Cho. Dear prince, what wouldst thou do? Let not 
 the force 
 Of this war-fever rule thy headlong course, 
 But quench this fatal longing at the source. 
 
 Et Since Heaven this consummation hastens on. 
 Let Laius' seed, caught by Cocytus' flood, 
 Drift down the tide, victims of Phoebus' ire. 
 
 Cho. Too sharply urgest thou the savage sting 
 Of strong desire unto thy home to bring 
 Dire harvest of unlawful blood-shedding. 
 
 Et. Cruelly near in kin, my father's curse, 
 Close on fulfilment, with dry tearless look 
 Tells of things more desired than death's delay. 
 
 Cho. Yet haste not thou, but win both life and 
 fame ! 
 No taint of cowardice shall touch thy name. 
 The Erinnys-storm shall leave thy home and land 
 When Heaven hath free-will offerings from thy hand. 
 
 Et. Heaven hath forgotten us, or with blank stare 
 Wonders at sacrifice from men fore-doomed. 
 Why fawn on fate when in the grips of Death ? 
 
 Cho. Nay, seize the time that offers ; Heaven, though 
 late. 
 May veer and alter ; even the blast of Fate, 
 
120 SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. [707-729. 
 
 That now against thy peace blows fierce and rude, 
 May change hereafter to some milder mood. 
 
 Et. Fate rages, for the curse of CEdipus 
 Is come to ripeness, and the visioned dream, 
 Parting our patrimony, was too true. 
 
 Cho. Let women rule thee, though thou rail'st on them. 
 
 Et Speak, then, to purpose and be brief. 
 
 Cho. Go not 
 
 On this emprise to guard the seventh gate. 
 
 Et. I am too sharp set for words to blunt mine edge. 
 
 Cho. Heaven favours victory though won by fear. 
 
 Et. A maxim not for warriors to approve ! 
 
 Cho. And wilt thou reap the life of thine own brother? 
 
 Et. God willing, he shall not escape his doom. \Exit. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 I am shuddering with sad fear 
 Of the ruin hovering near, 
 Lest the power of godless might 
 Alien from the lords of light. 
 Seer infallible of ill. 
 Dark Erinnys, should fulfil 
 CEdipus' infatuate vows 
 'Gainst the children of his house. 
 Still she holds her destined path 
 Prompted by a father's wrath : 
 Now this child-destroying strife 
 Lends her purpose instant life. 
 Ruthless Iron sways the lot 
 That shall portion them the plot 
 
729-752 J SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. 121 
 
 Each shall hold ; a stranger he 
 From the Scythian colony 
 That came o'er the Pontic deep 
 To Chalybia's country steep : 
 Stem divider, judge severe ! 
 What possession find they here ? 
 What their heritage ? So much 
 As the dead man's corse may touch, 
 So much either shall obtain, 
 Nothing more of all yon plain. 
 
 When fratricidal death 
 
 Hath stopped their raging breath, 
 
 And Earth's dust drunk dark draughts of sinful gore. 
 
 What charm may purge the guilt 
 
 Of blood so foully spilt ? 
 
 Whose hand shall bathe them ? O unhappy store 
 
 Of fresh woes for this house, blent with the woes before ! 
 
 I mean that ancient crime 
 
 Rued by all after-time, — 
 Three generations now have borne the weight. 
 
 Since — maugre Phoebus' word 
 
 Thrice from the tripod heard, 
 How 'twas the constant will of sovran Fate, 
 That, dying without seed, he should preserve the state — 
 
 Laius, by love o'ercome, 
 Begat his own sure doom. 
 Sad CEdipus, the slayer of his sire. 
 
122 SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. [753-78o. 
 
 Who ploughed the field where erst 
 
 His embryo bones were nurst, 
 And reared a crop that bloomed in murderous ire. 
 Infatuate bride and groom, so drawn by mad desire ! 
 
 Evils are like a surge 
 
 Where billows billows urge : 
 Each peers three-crested o'er the wave that's gone, 
 
 Thundering abaft the helm. 
 
 And threatening to o'erwhelm 
 The frail defence that braves that waste alone. 
 I fear lest, with her kings, Thebes may be now o'erthrown. 
 
 When dawns the Fate-appointed day. 
 The ag^d curse is hard to allay. 
 Once here, Destruction rides not past 
 Till those are fallen beneath the blast 
 Whose toil-earned wealth, too highly heaped. 
 Brings ruin, and the man hath reaped 
 But sacrifice of all at last. 
 Who more admired of gods and men 
 Than CEdipus was honoured then, 
 By all who shared the city's hearth, 
 Drawing rich life from Theban earth, 
 • When he had freed the land from fear 
 Of the Sphinx-monster seated near, 
 Dire minister of death and dearth ? 
 
 But when he came to know 
 The measure of his woe, 
 That wretched wedlock with dire anguish fraught, 
 
78i-8o2.] SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. 123 
 
 Unequal to sustain 
 
 The stress of that sore pain 
 A two-fold evil his rash spirit wrought. 
 First, with the hand that smote his sire, he reft 
 Himself of sight, his only comfort left. 
 
 Then with his children wroth 
 
 He fiercely launched on both 
 A savage curse for their unfilial ways : 
 
 How with steel-furnished hand 
 
 They should divide his land 
 And heritage in lapse of after days. 
 Even now the fear works strongly in my soul, 
 The Erinnys of that curse runs close upon her goal. 
 
 Enter 2nd Messenger. 
 
 2nd Mess. Take courage, children, whom the mother's 
 care 
 Keeps tender ; Thebfe hath escaped the yoke 
 Of threatened bondage ; her impetuous foes 
 Are fallen from their pitch of vaunting pride. 
 While she sails onward under smiling skies. 
 No water shipped from that sore buffeting. 
 No breach in all her towers, no gate unsure : 
 So firm the warrant of those bulwarks set 
 Singly to guard them. All but all is well — 
 All in six gateways. But the seventh was held 
 By a dread champion self-appointed there. 
 For there Apollo chose to bring to pass 
 Of Laius' ancient folly the last meed, 
 Accomplished on the stock of CEdipus. 
 
124 SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. [803-826. 
 
 Cho. AVhat worse than heretofore afflicts the state ? 
 
 2nd Mess. They are fallen in death, by their own 
 kindred slain. 
 
 Cho. Who are fallen ? What say'st thou ? I am wild 
 with dread. 
 
 2nd Mess. Be tame, and hearken. CEdipus' two 
 sons — 
 
 Cho. Lie yonder ? Terrible ! Yet tell it forth. 
 
 2nd Mess. In equal soilure of indifferent dust. 
 
 Cho. Too near in dreadful kinship ! slaying and slain ! 
 
 2nd Mess. The Genius of them both was even so dire, 
 So undistinguishing : and with one stroke 
 Consigns to nothingness that hapless race. 
 Thus joy and weeping mingle. We rejoice 
 For Thebfe faring gloriously, but weep 
 For her two chieftains, generals of this war, 
 Who with the hammered strength of Scythian steel 
 Have so divided their inheritance, 
 That, carried headlong by their father's curse. 
 Ill-fated, each inherits so much earth 
 As in his burial he may occupy. 
 Thebfe is rescued : but her princes twain 
 By mutual slaughter fratricidally 
 Are perished : their own land hath drunk their blood. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Mighty Zeus and guardian powers 
 Rescuers of Cadmus' towers, 
 Shall I raise the joyous cry 
 For the scathless victory 
 
827-8S3J SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. 125 
 
 Thebes hath won, or weep and mourn 
 For the hapless chiefs forlorn 
 Dying, in an ill-starred strife, 
 Childless in the morn of life ? 
 Impious was their purpose proud. 
 Dire the fate whereto they bowed, 
 Rightly answering either name : 
 Great in strife and true in fame. 
 O fraught with gloom 
 Curse of the sire upon the race fulfilled ! 
 With horror at my heart my veins are chilled. 
 A funeral Bacchant^, for their tomb 
 A dirge I have framed, how on the battle floor. 
 Dreadfully slain, their bodies lie in gore. 
 
 Sure ominous of evil doom 
 This warrior fellowship i' the open field. 
 
 The father's prayer 
 For evil hath full course and doth prevail ; 
 Nor doth the faithless folly of Laius fail, 
 Surrounding Thebfe close with anxious care, 
 Since the oracles lose nothing of their power. 
 Past thought is the affliction of this hour, — 
 
 The deed of that ill-omened pair. 
 No tragic burden of a poet's tale. 
 
 Cho. I. Our horror heaves in sight. They come, they 
 
 are here. 
 Cho. 2. Two cares, two proud heroic themes of woe. 
 Cho. I. An impious-fatal end on either bier. 
 Cho. 2. What shall I say? These halls their sorrow 
 know. 
 
126 SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. [854-882. 
 
 Come, let the measured stroke of hand on brow 
 Guide the sad convoy with the formless prow 
 And sable canvas, on her sunless way 
 Where bright Apollo never brings the day, 
 O'er Acheron with winds of sighing fanned 
 Unto the viewless, all-receiving strand. 
 
 See ! with reluctant steps and slow 
 Proportioned to the task of woe, 
 Antigonfe, Ismenfe, come, 
 Leading their brethren to the tomb. 
 Surely from either virgin breast 
 Deep-shrouded in ambrosial vest, 
 Rich strains of heart-felt grief will ring 
 Noble as they for whom they spring. 
 
 \_The Chorus range tliemselves in two divisions, 
 accompanying Antigone and Ismene 
 severally. 
 Oh ! most unhappy in your brethren's will 
 Of all that round their robes the cincture wind, 
 Our tears, our groans, our lamentations shrill 
 Shall prove our perfect soul and faithful mind. 
 
 Ant. O men perverse, stubborn to friendly rede. 
 Not to be daunted from your evil deed, 
 The war ye levied hath procured the fall, 
 O most unhappy ! of your father's hall. 
 
 Cho. I. Yea most unhappy, whose all-hapless doom 
 Brings shame and ruin on their natal home. 
 
 Is. Ye that have ruined what your fathers built, 
 With fell ambition for dire ends ye spilt 
 
883-914.J SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. 127 
 
 Each the other's blood. By sovereignty beguiled, 
 With interchange of steel ye are reconciled. 
 
 Cho. 2. Well doth the fury of CEdipus fulfil 
 The dread presaging of a father's will. 
 
 Ant. Through the left side each brother took the 
 harm 
 Launched from the brother's arm. 
 Omen twofold of monstrous woe, 
 O curse of maddening power, directing blow for blow ! 
 
 Cko. I. That stroke with voiceless force 
 Did both from life, from home, from kin, divorce, 
 Possessed through their own father's curse 
 With jarring destiny of passionate thoughts perverse. 
 
 Is. Grief holds the town, the wall, the peopled plain, 
 While to their heirs remain 
 The riches whence the quarrel grew 
 That found no end of broils, till each his brother slew. 
 
 Cho. 2. Their eager hearts of rage 
 With equal hand have shared their heritage ; 
 Yet the arbiter their friends may blame. 
 Nor love they that grim power who sets the spirit aflame. 
 
 Ant. Thrust through with steel they lie 
 Spear-stricken : then what doom 
 Waits them ? Will none reply ? 
 Cho. I. Peace in their father's tomb. 
 
128 SEVEN AGAINST THEBES [915-953- 
 
 Cho. 2. Now for their convoy comes from forth their hall 
 Heart-rending griefs true note of melancholy 
 With gloomy cheer, and tears of passion holy 
 Wrung from my heart that pines as I lament their fall. 
 Is. Their funeral dirge may say — 
 
 " Much harm they did the state. 
 But more, in bloody fray. 
 To strange hosts at the gate." 
 
 Cho. 2. To an evil fate their mother gave them birth, 
 Beyond all wives who have won the name of mother : 
 She wedded her own child, and, each by other. 
 Their offspring now have died, slain on their native earth, 
 Close kinship merged in ruin unalloyed ! 
 Mad strife that ends but with the lives destroyed ! 
 Fierce arbitrator of insensate feud. 
 Divider of the rights of brotherhood ! 
 
 Cho. I. Their hatred ceases in the crimsoned soil. 
 Full brotherly their blood is mingling now. 
 A cruel judge to arbitrate their ire, 
 That Pontic guest was moulded in the fire. 
 Cruel and hard in portioning the spoil 
 The War-god, making good the vengeful father's vow. 
 What gifts from Heaven are yours, O hapless pair ! 
 Each finds his equal portion in despair ; 
 Of earth your having shall be rich and deep. 
 Piled underneath your everlasting sleep. 
 
 Cho. 2 . With many an ill from both they have chequered 
 o'er 
 The story of their line, till at the last 
 
952-977-] SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. 129 
 
 A troop of curses shrilled the battle-shout 
 Putting that race to a perpetual rout. 
 The trophy of Mischance is reared before 
 The gate where, both o'erthrown, the conquering Genius 
 passed. 
 
 Ant. Smitten thou didst smite. 
 
 Is. In dying thou didst slay. 
 
 Ant. With spear thou slewest. 
 
 Is. With spear passedst away. 
 
 Ant. Sad quest, 
 
 Is. Sad fate, 
 
 Ant. Was thine who liest low. 
 
 Groans — 
 
 Is. Tears — 
 
 Ant. tor thee, — 
 
 Is. For thee who gavest the blow. 
 
 Ant. My vext soul raves — 
 
 Is. My heart doth inly mourn — 
 
 Ant. For thee ) 
 
 J. -p tVi ) '^^^' O*^^^ Thebfe's pride — 
 
 Is. To misery born. 
 Ant. Killed by thine own. 
 
 Is. Destined thine own to quell. 
 
 Ant. A twofold sorrow — 
 Is. To behold— 
 
 Ant. To tell.— 
 
 The burden of our grief is drawing near. 
 Is. Brothers to sisters. Brother, I am here. 
 C/io. Fate, o'er our heads thy potent frown doth lower ; 
 
 O shade of CEdipus, this is thine hour ! 
 
 O dark Erinnys, dreadful is thy power ! 
 
I30 SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. [978-1004. 
 
 Ant. Horrors to sight, — 
 
 Is. Returning, thou didst bring. 
 
 Ant. Slaying, but not saved. 
 
 Is. Lost in thy home-coming. 
 
 Ant. Lost and destroying. 
 
 Is. He, too, gave the blow. 
 
 Ant. O troublous family ! 
 
 Is. O end of woe ! 
 
 Ant. Like tale of sorrows that the spirit quell ! 
 
 Is. Like dreadful to behold, like dire to tell. 
 
 Cho. Fate, o'er our heads thy potent frown doth lower ; 
 
 O shade of (Edipus, this is thine hour ! 
 
 O dark Erinnys, dreadful is thy power ! 
 Ant. Thou knowest the worst. 
 
 Is. And thou, in one event. 
 
 Ant. Since thou camest home. 
 
 Is. To oppose him with the spear. 
 
 Ant. To afHict thy house with evil hardiment. 
 Is. To afflict thy land that mourns around thy bier. 
 Ant. To afflict me most. 
 
 Is. And me too, more than all. 
 
 Ant. Of all ill-fated ones — 
 Is. Eteocles first ! 
 
 Ant. O ye, most deeply mourned for in your fall. 
 Is. O ye, with fratricidal fury accurst ! 
 Where shall we lay them ? 
 
 Ant. In the holiest ground. 
 
 Is. Beside their sire ? Horrors will there abound. 
 
IOOS-1032.] SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. 131 
 
 Herald. 
 'Tis mine to announce the will and firm decree 
 Of the high council of this Theban state. 
 Eteocles, as loyal to his land, 
 Shall be insepulchred beneath her shade : 
 Free from offence against her holy things 
 He died where most beseems young men to die. 
 So much I am charged to speak concerning him. 
 But this, his brother Polynices' corpse, 
 Graveless shall be cast forth for dogs to tear. 
 As minded to lay waste our Theban land. 
 Had not some god stood in his path and foiled 
 His spear : dead though he be, his country's gods 
 Shall ban him, since he brought in their despite 
 A foreign host to invade and subjugate 
 Their city. Wherefore 'tis decreed for him 
 To reap his recompense from fowls of the air 
 In shameful burial. Neither drink-ofiferings 
 Poured on his tomb by careful hands, nor sound 
 Of dirgeful wailing shall enhance his fame. 
 Nor following of dear footsteps honour him. 
 So runs the enactment of our Theban lords. 
 
 Ant. But I make answer to the lords of Thebes, 
 Though none beside consent to bury him, 
 I will provide my brother's funeral. 
 I will face that danger, recking not of shame 
 In disobeying so the state's behest. 
 Too strong for that the tie of kindred blood 
 Which binds us, sprung from two unfortunates. 
 
132 SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. [1033-1065. 
 
 That mother and that sire. Then, O my soul, 
 Of thine own living will, share thou the wrongs 
 Forced on the helpless dead : be leal and true. 
 My brother's flesh no meagre-bellied wolves 
 Shalt tear and pull. Let no man dream of it. 
 I, though a woman, will prepare his mound, 
 Carrying the earth in this fine garment's fold. 
 I will cover him, let none think otherwise. 
 Nay, doubt me not ! Will shall devise a way. 
 
 Her. I bid thee spare this violence to the state. 
 
 Ant. I bid thee spare commands beyond thy charge. 
 
 Her. Be warned ; a people rescued knows not ruth. 
 
 Ant. Be ruthless, but he shall have burial. 
 
 Her. How ? Whom the city hates thou'lt thus exalt ? 
 
 Ant. Heaven hath already meted him his due. 
 
 Her. But first he had endangered this fair land. 
 
 Ant. He answered wrong with hostile violence. 
 
 Her. 'Gainst all he wrestled for the fault of one. 
 
 Ant. Contention ever seeks the latest word. 
 I will bury him that's here ; enough ! No more ! 
 
 Her. Take thine own course ; my voice forbids the 
 deed. 
 
 Cho. I. Proud powers of ruin, that have blasted all 
 The deeply-rooted stock of Laius' race ! 
 What counsel, what device, shall we embrace. 
 What destined course ? Must we not weep thy fall, 
 Nor follow to thy final resting-place ? 
 The people's anger is of power to appal. 
 Thou shalt have many mourners, but thy fate 
 A sister's lonely voice shall celebrate. 
 
I066-1079.] SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. 133 
 
 O hapless corse ! O stern decree ! 
 
 What heart but yields reluctantly ? 
 Cho. 2. Nay, let the city visit those that weep 
 For Polynices, howsoe'er it may, 
 We will escort him on his funeral way, 
 And lull him to his everlasting sleep. 
 All Thebans own this grief, and wavering still 
 Are rules of right set by the popular will. 
 
 Cho. I. Right and the people's will one counsel urge. 
 And we will follow his renownbd bier. 
 Who under Heaven saved Cadmus' town from fear 
 Of overthrow beneath the whelming surge 
 Of foreign foemen. From those threatening seas 
 Zeus rescued us, and brave Eteocles. 
 
THE ORESTEIAN TRILOGY. 
 
 One only trilogy of ^schylus remains complete (or 
 nearly so) : but it is fortunately one composed by him 
 in the maturity of his powers, and is universally acknow- 
 ledged to take rank amongst the world's masterpieces. 
 
 The subject is the troublous history of " Pelops' line," 
 of which the unnatural horrors are regarded as cul- 
 minating in the matricide of Orestes. Of the whole 
 trilogy, considered as one three-act tragedy, the crisis and 
 turning-point is at line 882 of the " Choephoroe," where 
 Clytemnestra calls for an axe, wherewith to defend her- 
 self against her son. 
 
 The first of the three acts, or dramas, concludes with 
 the murder of Agamemnon by his wife Clytemnestra, 
 and the usurpation by ^gisthus, her paramour, of the 
 Argive throne. The second ends with the flight of 
 Orestes, pursued by the Erinnyes, or Furies, after his 
 unnatural act. They are " his mother's furies " because 
 she has invoked them, and they are in so far the personi- 
 fication of her vengeful wrath. But these dread forms 
 have also a wider significance, embodying the principle 
 
136 THE ORESTEIAN TRILOGY. 
 
 of retribution (i) for violation of domestic sanctities, and 
 (2) for all unrighteous action. 
 
 The third drama, The Eumenides, aims at reconciling 
 conflicting principles, and at softening retribution through 
 equity. The Erinnyes, who appear at first implacable, 
 are pacified by the interposition of Athena. And the 
 Court of Areopagus is founded by her, to determine 
 future cases of homicide. 
 
 In the Satyric drama, " Proteus,'' which completed the 
 tetralogy, some reference was probably made to the 
 fortunes of Menelaus, whose continued absence had 
 been commented on in the " Agamemnon," and referred 
 to in the " Choephoroe" (L 1038). 
 
AGAMEMNON. 
 
 PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. 
 
 A Watchman. 
 
 Chorus of the Argive Elders. 
 
 Clytemnestra. 
 
 Herald, 
 
 Agamemnon. 
 
 Cassandra. 
 
 ^GISTHUS. 
 
 Scene — Argos, before the palace of the Atridae. 
 Time— After the fall of Troy. 
 
Argos is still the metropolis of Hellas, and the palace is occupied 
 by the two sons of Atreus, Agamemnon and Menelaus, as joint 
 kings. They have married sisters, Clytemnestra and Helene, 
 daughters of Tyndareus. But Helen has been carried off by Paris, 
 and the two brothers are described as having together departed on 
 the Trojan expedition. But the fleet was delayed at Aulis, and 
 Agamemnon was induced to sacrifice his daughter Iphigenia, or 
 Iphianassa. This act has awakened an inextinguishable hatred in 
 the breast of her mother Clytemnestra, who remains in sole posses- 
 sion of the vast palace of the Pelopidse — that home which has 
 already witnessed the banquet of Thyestes and other nameless 
 iniquities. She sends away her son Orestes, and, amongst the 
 horror-breathing silences, remains alone, possessed with the one 
 thought, the one constant resolve, to take condign vengeance for her 
 child. 
 
 But while alone in the palace, she is not alone in her desire of 
 revenge, ^gisthus, the son of Thyestes, is bound in honour to be 
 avenged for his brothers, whom Atreus massacred. He has returned 
 to Argolis, but is still an outcast from the palace of the Pelopidse. 
 
 During the absence of Agamemnon and Menelaus these two 
 hatreds have coalesced in one, — Clytemnestra, reckless of all but 
 vengeance, ^gisthus, likewise loving revenge, but not insensible 
 to the charms of the kingdom and the Queen. 
 
 Their plot is favoured by the circumstance that, when Agamemnon 
 returns, his brother Menelaus is still absent, having been inter- 
 cepted by a violent storm. Although suspicion is rife, there has 
 been no overt act either of adultery or usurpation. But after one of 
 his secret visits, ^gisthus has left with Clytemnestra his sword. 
 (Choeph. 1008.) 
 
 The King brings home with him Cassandra, the daughter of Priam. 
 This insult serves to whet the Queen's revenge. And the character 
 of the prophetic maiden, her destined victim, stands in pathetic 
 contrast to that of the royal murderess. 
 
 The King's death-shriek is, of course, the crisis of the play, and 
 more than justifies the gloomy presentiments which damp all 
 attempts at cheerfulness on the part of the Watchman, the Chorus, 
 and the Herald. For this culminating horror the mind of the 
 spectator has been further prepared, first by certain lurid flashes of 
 Clytemnestra's demoniac joy, and then by a scene in which the 
 growing apprehension of the event is mingled with the most 
 poignant tenderness of pity, as Cassandra, the captive princess, 
 whom Apollo has inspired and forsaken, prophetically describes 
 both the past abominations of the house of Atreus, and the cruel 
 doom that is immediately impending over Agamemnon and herself. 
 
AGAMEMNON 
 
 Watchman. 
 
 I ask the gods deliverance from the toil 
 
 Of these long watchings. Through twelve weary moons 
 
 Couched on the Atridae's house-top, like a dog, 
 
 With head on hand, and ever-wakeful eye, 
 
 I have conned the nightly concourse of the stars 
 
 That shine majestical in yon clear heaven, 
 
 And by their risings and their settings bring 
 
 Summer and winter to the world. To-night 
 
 I watch for the flame-signal that shall tell 
 
 To us in Argos tidings borne from Troy, 
 
 Voicing her capture. Such the strong command 
 
 Of an expectant, passionate, man-souled woman. 
 
 This bed of mine beneath the dews of night 
 
 Conduces not to rest. Dreams come not near it. 
 
 Else they are warned off by the sentinel Fear, 
 
 That will not let my lids securely close. 
 
 Then if I whistle, or hum a song, providing 
 
 Such antidote 'gainst slumber, my sad heart 
 
 Checks me with groans for the calamities 
 
 That haunt this house, — not guided for the best 
 
140 AGAMEMNON: [20-45. 
 
 As once it was. — Well ! may the nightly flame 
 Soon, with glad news, release me from my toil. 
 
 \_The beacon is seen. 
 All hail ! thou light in darkness, harbinger 
 Of day indeed, author of many a song 
 And dance in Argos, born of this event ! 
 Sola, sola ! 
 
 I cry aloud to Agamemnon's queen 
 That from her couch she spring with speed, and raise 
 Clamour of joy to hail this beacon-light, 
 For Troy is taken ; so the fires declare. 
 Nay, I'll begin, and dance by way of prelude. 
 Marking my master's game, I'll cry " Huzzi ! 
 Good luck ! Three sixes, thrown by Bonfire-blaze ! " — * 
 Good luck, do I say ? 'Twill be some joy to hold 
 The kind hand of this kingdom's lord in mine. 
 Beyond that, I am silent. A strange weight 
 Oppresses heart and tongue. Could the house speak. 
 It might have much to tell. My lips will open. 
 With my good will, only to those that know. 
 
 Chorus {entering). 
 
 Nine years are gone, and the tenth is here. 
 Since he whom Priam had cause to fear 
 Menelaus, wreaking a mighty wrong, 
 And Agamemnon, in glory strong, 
 With two-fold sceptre and throne secure 
 Gifted by Him whose gifts are sure — 
 Two sons of Atreus leagued in power, 
 Of Argive youth led forth the flower, 
 
46-71.] AGAMEMNON. " 141 
 
 Well armed for aid, the ^gean o'er, 
 In a thousand ships from yonder shore. 
 
 Shouting they went, with hearts aflame 
 
 For the furious War-god's eager game. 
 
 As eagles that over their eyrie wheel, 
 
 Driven wide by the sudden pang they feel 
 
 For their eaglets torn from the long-watched nest, 
 
 Oaring their path in wild unrest 
 
 With pens for oar-blades, — till one on high. 
 
 Pan or Apollo, hearing the cry 
 
 Of the birds who tenant his realm of air. 
 
 Is moved by the sound of their shrill despair, 
 
 And sends on the sinner, albeit too late. 
 
 To wreak that wrong, an avenging fate. 
 
 So mightier Zeus, who guards the home 
 
 From outrage of guests that idly roam, 
 
 'Gainst Paris both the Atridse brought, 
 
 For a woman, whose marriage vows were naught. 
 
 Broaching a flood of toils, to flow 
 
 For Greek and Trojan with equal woe, — 
 
 When the knee outwearied should press the dust. 
 
 And the spear be snapped in his virgin thrust. — 
 
 Each hour hath proof of the daily state. 
 
 But the end shall be as 'tis ruled by Fate. 
 
 No late libation, or incense-fume. 
 
 No tears, shall wrest from a ruthless doom 
 
 The man who has angered, through mad desire. 
 
 The Powers that burn, but need no fire. 
 
142 AGAMEMNON. [72-96. 
 
 And we, discarded through Time's decay. 
 
 Dropt from the roll that mustering day, 
 
 Remain, supporting, as weakness craves. 
 
 Our child-like gait upon walking-staves. 
 
 For the sap that sprang in our breasts of yore 
 
 Knows of his youthful might no more. 
 
 And the warlike spirit hath left his seat. 
 
 What task for lingering Eld is meet ? 
 
 He seems, as he wanders his three-foot way, 
 
 Proving such valour as children may. 
 
 Of no more strength than a dream in the day. 
 
 But, oh ! Clytemnestra, royal dame, 
 What cause hath kindled thine altar-flame t 
 What new hath fallen ? What tidings heard 
 With sudden motion thy heart have stirred, 
 To raise by thy missives ranging wide 
 Frankincense fuming on every side ? 
 Of all the gods that in Argos dwell, 
 Gods of Olympus, and gods of Hell, 
 Gods of the palace, gods of the street, 
 Gods who preside where the people meet. 
 Where'er is harboured a power divine. 
 Thy gifts are blazing at every shrine. 
 Here, there, and yonder, on high doth spire 
 With holy meaning the fragrant fire. 
 Fed with rich oils, that mildly soothe 
 The doubting spirit with flattering truth : 
 Since the royal perfume with potent spell 
 From the palace whispers that all is well. — 
 
97-121.] AGAMEMNON: 143 
 
 Whate'er thou mayest, to our minds reveal, 
 O queen, of thy bounty, and timely heal 
 Our heart's foreboding, that riseth still 
 One while with thoughts of impending ill. 
 Till Hope, appearing with kindly light 
 From the altar, greets our reviving sight, 
 And strives to banish the carking care 
 That fiercely feeds on the soul's despair. 
 
 Full power is mine to sing what heartening sign 
 
 Ushered the flower of warriors on their way : — 
 Yet soars my spirit ; yet, from springs divine, 
 
 Life yields me valour to uplift the lay, 
 Telling how, on a day, 
 The king of birds marshalled two kings of men, — 
 Joint leaders of the youth of Hellas, then 
 On ship-board led against the Teucrian land 
 With store of vengeance in each spear-armed hand : — 
 A warlike sign ! Two eagles on the right : 
 
 Full in the army's sight, 
 Hard by yon royal roof they took their place 
 
 (One black in all his plumes, one flecked with white). 
 Gorging together on a brooding hare, 
 
 O'ertaken in her latest chase, 
 A creature of despair ! 
 Then be your burden sad with sounds of wail. 
 
 But let the happier note prevail. 
 
144 AGAMEMNON. [122-152. 
 
 The careful prophet saw the Atridae twain, 
 
 And straightway in the hare-devourers scanned 
 Those warlike leaders with their differing strain ; 
 
 Then thus he spake prophetic : " Yonder band 
 In time shall take the land 
 Of royal Priam : and the public store 
 Wherewith the towers of Troy were filled before, 
 Stem fate through violent shocks of armfed power 
 Shall pitilessly ransack and devour. 
 Only, may no offence from Heaven distain 
 
 The bridle of Ilion's plain, 
 That brilliant army, crossed by heavenly ire ! 
 Since holiest Artemis, with wrath o'erta'en. 
 Frowns as they feast on yon poor trembler's brood. 
 
 Those wingfed minions of her Sire. 
 She abhors the eagles' food. 
 Then be your burden sad with sounds of wail, 
 
 But let the happier note prevail. 
 
 " The beauteous goddess, though so kind 
 To eanlings of the ravening lion-race. 
 And tender sucklings of all beasts of chase. 
 Doth yet accord her mind 
 To fair fulfilment of the fortunate sign. 
 " Ah ! but on Phoebus yet I call, 
 
 Healer in dangers all, 
 
 Lest for the Argives, with intent malign, 
 
 She raise contrarious winds of dire delay, 
 
 Minded another victim to exchange 
 
 In sacrifice unauthorized and strange, 
 
I53-I74-] AGAMEMNON. 145 
 
 Attended with no festival, 
 
 Breeding dark strife within the hall, 
 Hardening the wife against the husband's sway. 
 A mindful keeper of the house shall burn 
 To avenge her offspring at her lord's return." 
 Such words of doom, mingled with happy things, 
 Calchas outspake, touching our race of kings. 
 Then be your burden sad with sounds of wail 
 
 But let the happier note prevail. 
 
 Zeus — by what name soe'er 
 
 He glories being addressed, 
 Even by that holiest name 
 I name the Highest and Best. 
 On Him I cast my troublous care, 
 My only refuge from despair : 
 Weighing all else, in Him alone I find 
 Relief from this vain burden of the mind. 
 
 One erst appeared supreme, 
 
 Bold with abounding might. 
 But like a darkling dream 
 Vanished in long past night. 
 Powerless to save ; and he is gone 
 Who flourished since, in turn to own 
 His conqueror, to whom with soul on fire 
 Man crying aloud shall gain his heart's desire,- 
 
146 AGAMEMNON: [175-200. 
 
 Zeus, who prepared for men 
 
 The path of wisdom, binding fast 
 Learning to suffering. In their sleep 
 
 The mind is visited again 
 With memory of affliction past. 
 
 Without the will, reflection deep 
 Reads lessons that perforce shall last, 
 Thanks to the power that plies the sovran oar. 
 Resistless, toward the eternal shore. 
 
 And the elder leader then 
 
 Of all the Acheeans, blaming not 
 The prophet, but with quivering lips 
 
 Bending his spirit to the strain 
 Of that unlooked-for, adverse lot,— 
 
 What time the Achaeans by their ships 
 Were sore distressed with anxious thought. 
 By baffling winds, that drained that opulent host. 
 Storm-stayed on Aulis' weary coast. 
 
 For fronting Chalkis' bay. 
 
 Helpless as logs the Achaean galleys lay ; 
 
 While blasts of dire delay from Strymon's mouth, 
 
 Authors of hunger, weariness and drouth, 
 
 Driving poor wights from harbourage far astray. 
 
 Doubling by waste the time of their sad stay. 
 
 Sparing nor ships nor cabling, wore away 
 
 The flower of Argive youth. — 
 
 And when the prophet cried. 
 
 Voicing a means to cure the army's pain, 
 
20I-224.] AGAMEMNON: 147 
 
 Even than that cruel wind 
 
 More cruel to the chieftains in their pride, 
 
 Recalling Artemis to mind, 
 
 Whereat the Atrid^ with their sceptres twain 
 
 Striking the ground, their tears could not restrain ; 
 
 " 'Twere hard to disobey," 
 
 These words the elder chieftain spake that day, 
 " But were 't not hard on the altar step to stand 
 And stain with virgin streams a father's hand ? 
 O heavy doom ! if I my child must slay, 
 Who sheds upon my home its brightest ray ! 
 Which way I look is fraught with evil still. 
 No course exempt from ill. 
 How should I fail the fleet ? 
 How sin against the bond myself impressed ? 
 This blood will stay the storm : 
 Then for the blood of maiden pure and sweet. 
 The ruin of a faultless form, 
 Sorrow must yield to passionate unrest 
 Of strong desire. May all be for the best ! " 
 
 So when his neck received the fatal yoke 
 Within his breast arose the counter-gale, 
 And impious thoughts from lurking depths out-broke. 
 
 Unholy and fraught with bale. 
 An altered man, he recked no more of crime. 
 For the first shock of grief before unfelt 
 Hardens the spirit, that erewhile could melt. 
 With maddening counsel. He, that dreadful time. 
 
AGAMEMNON. [225-248. 
 
 Endured to slay his daughter, so to aid 
 The battle in a woman's cause arrayed, — 
 
 So to advance the fleet 
 
 With favouring auspice meet ! 
 
 What cared that council, eager for the strife. 
 That on her lips the name of father hung, 
 That unpolluted was her virgin life, 
 
 So pure, so bright, so young ! 
 The father bade those priests, after the prayer. 
 Above the altar, face to earth, on high. 
 Like kidling there to lift her ruthlessly, 
 With garments drooping round her, and the fair 
 Sweet mouth to bridle with speech-stifling force, 
 Lest some faint cry, heard in that ritual's course. 
 
 Might bring disastrous doom 
 
 Upon her father's home. 
 
 She shed to earth her veil of saffron dye, 
 And smote her sacrificers one by one 
 With pity-kindling arrows from her eye, 
 Willing to speak, as if some artist hand 
 That dumb fair piece had done. 
 How often in her own dear land 
 She charmed the feasters in her father's hall, 
 With pure young voice honouring his festival. 
 And with her loving presence graced the store 
 Of scathless plenty on that palace-floor ! 
 
 What followed then I saw not, nor will tell ; 
 The mystic arts of Calchas won their way. 
 
249-274J AGAMEMNON. i^ig 
 
 Nor on things future boots it now to dwell ; 
 Farewell to that ! Clear, in the history's close, 
 'Twill dawn with the new day. 
 Knowledge belongs of right to those 
 Who read the lesson of the fact they feel. 
 Fore-thinking were fore-sorrowing. May the wheel 
 Bring round good fortune ! such the wishful mind 
 Of us, last guards of Argos left behind. 
 
 Leader of Cho. Queen Clytemnestra, we are come to 
 render 
 Our duties to thy royalty. For when 
 The kingly throne is vacant, it is meet 
 The consort of the prince should have all homage. 
 We are here with loyal hearts intent to learn 
 If some good tidings coming to thine ear 
 Have prompted thine auspicious sacrifice. 
 Speak, if thou wilt. If not, we rest content. 
 
 Cly. " With glad intelligence," the proverb saith, 
 " Let Morning rise out of 'the womb of Night." 
 A joy beyond your hope 'tis yours to hear. 
 Our Argive host hath taken Priam's town. 
 
 Cho. How ? 'Tis incredible. Speak yet once more. 
 
 Cly. Troy is in Grecian hands. Are those words plain ? 
 
 Cho. Unlocked for joy brings tears into mine eye. 
 
 Cly. Those tears attest your loyalty of soul. 
 
 Cho. But hast thou proof that may be trusted, lady 1 
 
 Cly. Unless some god have been deceiving me. 
 
 Cho. Hast thou then hearkened to some flattering 
 dream .'' 
 
ISO AGAMEMNON: [275-304. 
 
 Cfy. No slumberous fancies work on my belief. 
 
 Cho. But some speech-omen, lighting on thy soul — 
 
 Cly. Should that elate me like a girl ? Ye mock me ! 
 
 Cho. Say, then, how long ago the city fell. 
 
 Cly. In the same night that now brings forth the day. 
 
 Cho. What messenger could bear the news so swiftly ? 
 
 Cly. The Fire-god flashed it hither from Mount Ida. 
 Fire was the post, and beacons were the stages. 
 First Ida sent him to the Hermaean bluff 
 Of Lemnos, whence the flaring torch that rose 
 Was caught by Athos, Zeus's promontory ; 
 Thence high aloft, far-glancing o'er the sea, 
 The blazing pine sped on the traveller-flame, 
 Making strange sunrise on Makistus' height. 
 Who, ready for that dawn, neglected not 
 A courier's office, but gave signal far 
 Across Euripus to the watchmen set 
 On wild Messapius. They replied and sent 
 The glad news onward, kindling a dry heap 
 Of agfed heather. And the mighty flame, 
 Naught bating of his radiant power, o'erleapt 
 Asopus' flats, and, like a brilliant moon 
 Silvering the forehead of Cithseron, waked 
 A fresh relay of courier torches there : 
 Nor was the travelled messenger denied ; 
 But re-inforcing him beyond command, 
 That mountain guard upreared a royal blaze, 
 To shoot beyond Gorgopis' bay and strike 
 The mount of ^giplanctus, where it roused 
 Loyal renewal of the appointed fire. 
 
305-332-] AGAMEMNON. iji 
 
 Heaping on fuel with unsparing hand, 
 
 They raised a beard-Uke pyramid of flame, 
 
 Whose Ught rushed past the foreland that looks forth 
 
 Towards ^gina, till it reached the height 
 
 That crowns our city, this Arachnian hill : — 
 
 Whence^ lastly, on the Atridae's roof lights down 
 
 That lineal offspring of the Idaean flame. 
 
 Such torch-race had we ordered and prepared, 
 
 In bright successive courses ministered. 
 
 But here one runner, first and last i' the race, 
 
 Hath touched the goal and shouted " Victory ! " 
 
 This is the proof and token I proclaim. 
 
 Sent by my husband from the heart of Troy. 
 
 Cho. O lady, our thanksgivings shall be paid 
 To heaven, hereafter. We would hear thee still, 
 Listening and wondering, — so thou wouldst speak anew. 
 
 Cly. To-day the Achaeans are possessed of Troy. 
 A jarring din, methinks, is rising there 
 Into one vessel pouring oil and vinegar 
 You will not see them lovingly combine, 
 Even so the captives' and the captors' cries 
 Tell diverse tales of Fortune's two-fold power. 
 Those now are fallen about the prostrate forms 
 Of husbands, brothers, friends, — young children, too. 
 Clinging to grey-haired fathers,— ^and from throats 
 No longer free, lament their dearest slain. 
 But these, being wearied with the night's exploit, 
 O'er-watched and hungry, break their fast i' the town 
 On what is yet to be found there-, — not by rule — 
 No order, no precedence, no degree, — 
 
152 AGAMEMNON. [333-362- 
 
 But even as each hath drawn the lot of chance. 
 
 So now inhabiting the ransacked homes 
 
 Of captive Trojans, sheltered from the dews 
 
 And frosts of the open field, as men released 
 
 From toil, they will sleep all night, nor dream of danger. 
 
 And if they reverence well the gods that hold 
 
 The captured city, and the temples there. 
 
 The spoiler may escape being spoiled. But let 
 
 No lust seduce that host to plunder things 
 
 Inviolable, as overcome by greed. 
 
 The race is not yet over. Still remains 
 
 The home-return, to round their emulous course. 
 
 Yea, even without offended Deity 
 
 Or tricks of chance, the spirits of the slain 
 
 May wake in wrath and bar the homeward way. 
 
 Thus, — if ye list to hear a woman's word, — 
 
 Would run my counsel. But may good prevail 
 
 Without a flaw ! The blessings of my home 
 
 Are manifold, and I would keep them still. 
 
 \Exit Clytemnestra. 
 Leader of Cho. All praise to thee, Zeus, king supreme ! 
 and, O night, kind protectress, to thee ! 
 How rich were thy splendours, when over the bulwarks of 
 
 Troy 
 Thou didst drop the wide net of destruction, that none, 
 
 great or small, man or boy, 
 Fled beyond, but was taken or perished, none crept 
 
 through the meshes of doom. 
 All praise to the power everlasting that punishes perfidy 
 
 home ! 
 
363-386.] AGAMEMNON. 153 
 
 Long since on the string was the arrow, that neither too 
 
 feebly should fly, 
 Nor idly o'er head of the sinner should mount, as if 
 
 aimed at the sky. 
 But should pierce through the bosom of Paris. — The hour 
 
 and the death-stroke are come ! 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 From Zeus came down the stroke that lowered their pride. 
 
 So much may be discerned beyond dispute. 
 
 They fared as he determined. One denied 
 
 Gods could be thought to care, when man or brute 
 
 Had trampled o'er the grace of holiest things. 
 
 He knew not reverence. But the truth is shown 
 
 To late descendants of proud warrior-kings 
 
 Who, when their halls were bursting with excess 
 
 Beyond the limit of true happiness, 
 
 Defied all laws to gods or mortals known. 
 
 Where is the limit ? Let but sorrow cease 
 
 And all within be peace. 
 
 The wise in heart shall be well satisfied. 
 
 For wealth ne'er gave protection to the man 
 
 Who, mad with having, insolently ran 
 
 At Right's high altar, in his impious thought 
 
 Minded to hurl it into naught. 
 
 But strong Delusion, Sin's disastrous child, 
 Brooding o'er future trespass, works her will 
 Remediless. Not to be reconciled 
 Nor yet concealed, the bane is shining still, 
 
154 AGAMEMNON. [387-417- 
 
 As in the assaying shines the base alloy,] 
 With lurid brilliance ruinously clear. 
 Even so he fares, who, like a wanton boy, 
 Chases the bird that mocks his eager hand, 
 And on his city brings a cureless brand. 
 Loudly he prays, but none in heaven will hear. 
 God strikes to earth the man of unjust ways. 
 Outcast from hope of praise. 
 So Paris, harboured in these halls, defiled 
 With base ingratitude the Atridae's home. 
 He wronged the chieftain of yon stately dome. 
 Stealing with robber guile the beauteous wife. 
 Unfaithful cause of future strife. 
 
 She left unto her friends in Argos here 
 
 Clashing of shields, arming of ships and men. 
 
 And, taking to the city of her new lord 
 
 Destruction for a dowry, lightly then 
 
 She passed the portal, sinning without fear. 
 
 While the Argive prophets groaned and spake this word : 
 
 " Woe for the palace home ! Woe for her spouse ! 
 
 Woe for her wifely ways within the house ! 
 
 He stands dishonoured, silent, murmuring not. 
 
 Soul-stricken before that unremovfed blot, 
 
 While longing for the lost one over seas 
 
 Shall banish all heart's-ease, 
 
 .And in her place her ghost shall seem 
 
 To rule the house, as in a dream. 
 
 The loveliest forms of stone 
 
 To that deserted one 
 
418-444.] AGAMEMNON. 155 
 
 Are hateful. In the spirit's boundless void 
 All sense of beauty sinks destroyed. 
 
 " Yet visions of the night, born of regret, 
 
 Bring to his saddened soul a vain delight. 
 
 Is it not vain if, when one thinks to reap 
 
 Strange joy, the cherished object fleets from sight 
 
 (Even while with gladdening tears the eyes are wet) 
 
 On wings that follow with the steps of sleep ? " 
 
 Such homefelt wounds within the palace wall 
 
 Are bleeding. Ay, and would that these were all !^ 
 
 And everywhere through Grecian lands is seen, 
 
 In each man's home, much heart-corroding teen. 
 
 From Grecian lands together forth they went. 
 
 Each by their loved ones sent. 
 
 And now the soul of friends is sore 
 
 To think whom they shall see no more. 
 
 Whom they sent forth they know, 
 
 But to their bitter woe. 
 
 No well-loved form, but urns of crumbling earth 
 
 Return to each man's natal hearth. 
 
 Ares, grim usurer of blood and breath. 
 
 That swings his balance o'er the field of death, 
 
 Sends back from Ilium to their friends 
 
 (For warriors' loss no just amends) 
 
 Their ashes blackened by the funeral fire, — < 
 
 Poor dust ! so heavy not with gold but grief, 
 
 Aff'ording to the dumb desire 
 
 Of tears but scant relief. 
 
156 AGAMEMNON. [445-472- 
 
 Then as with tender heed they store away- 
 Each precious burden in its vase of clay, 
 They groan, while praising one for skill in fight 
 And one for his brave conduct in the strife, 
 " Fallen to avenge another warrior's wife." 
 This last is murmured low, 
 While silent wrath doth grow 
 'Gainst Atreus sons, great champions of their right. 
 Others, with limbs unravaged, in the shade 
 By Ilion's bulwarks made. 
 Rest undisturbed ; — the hostile land they hold 
 Hides them beneath her kindly mould. 
 
 Ah ! dangerous are the murmurs of the town ! 
 A nation's curse lives in the people's frown. 
 One thought of mine night yet doth shroud : 
 It would be spoken, but not loud : 
 Great bloodshed draws the gaze of Deity. 
 ' The dark Erinnys in long lapse of time 
 Grinds down to helpless poverty 
 Him who in ways of crime 
 Hath flourished, but in dim reverse of doom 
 Shall stain the lustre of that odious bloom ; 
 And, once among the lost, he hath no more force. 
 Danger is theirs, too, that are praised by all : 
 Upon * their eyes the bolt from Heaven shall fall. 
 Mine be the moderate lot 
 That envy blasteth not ! 
 I would not run the royal conqueror's course, 
 • Or " On towering heights. " 
 
473-494-J AGAMEMNON. 157 
 
 Nor yet would I be conquered, and behold 
 The life I shared of old 
 Subdued to strangers, and my country's folk 
 Writhing beneath an alien yoke. 
 
 Good news delivered by the beacon flash 
 Shot through the city a rumour swift and rash. 
 Yet who can tell if things be as they seem, 
 Or God have sent us a deceitful gleam ? 
 'Twere childish or insensate to allow 
 One's heart to kindle at that cheering glow. 
 
 And quench it when a word 
 
 Of differing note is heard. 
 None but a woman, framed of hopes and fears. 
 Should yield assent before the fact appears. 
 Persuasion soon invades the female's realm : 
 Her judgment's pale is quickly overthrown ; 
 Feebly she holds an unresisting helm : 
 But fading soon to nothing the renown 
 
 Told by a woman's tongue 
 
 Will not resound for long. 
 
 Enter the Herald. 
 
 Leader of Cho. Ha ! 
 Now we shall know for certain how to deem 
 Of those bright signals of transmitted fire, 
 Whether truth is in them, or this light of joy. 
 Dreamlike, cajoled our minds with empty hope. 
 I see a herald coming from the shore 
 With olive-boughs o'ershadowed, and the dust 
 
158 AGAMEMNON. [495-524- 
 
 (Clay's thirsty neighbouring sister) tells me plain 
 
 This is no voiceless phantom-messenger 
 
 Of smoke and blaze from mountain bonfire sprung, 
 
 But will speak audibly, — whether of joy. 
 
 Or — but I waive the less auspicious word. 
 
 May that fair token now be crowned with good ! — 
 
 Whoso prays otherwise for this our state, 
 
 Heaven visit his soul's error on himself. 
 
 Her. O Fatherland of Argos, dearly loved. 
 In this tenth year I tread thy hallowed ground : 
 Though many a hope hath snapped, this anchor holds 
 Beyond expectance. I had long despaired 
 E'en of kind burial in my native soil. 
 Hail, Argive country, Argive light, and thou, 
 Zeus over all ! — thou too, great Pythian king, 
 Let thy keen darts no longer fly our way. 
 Enough they vexed us before Troy. But now, 
 Apollo, heal and save us ! Yea, all ye 
 Gods of our thoroughfares, — thou above all, 
 Hermes, dear herald, whom we heralds worship, — 
 And ye, great warriors of old time, whose spirits 
 Followed us forth, — receive again from war 
 With kindly thoughts this remnant of the host. 
 O well-loved palace of our kings, and ye, 
 Dread thrones of judgment, and great Powers that face 
 The morning, with your brightest glances greet 
 Our Sovereign in his triumph of to-day. 
 He comes, long waited for, bringing to you 
 And all this people glory out of gloom, 
 Light for long darkness. Then salute him well 
 
525-548.] AGAMEMNON. 159 
 
 Who well deserves it, having ransacked Troy, 
 And dug the ground there with the spade of Doom, 
 That, by the righteous will of Zeus most high. 
 Temples and altars are no more, no more 
 A germ of life in all the desolate land. 
 Such yoke is cast upon proud Ilion's neck 
 By the elder son of Atreus, who this day 
 Returns, a happy warrior, of all men 
 Most to be honoured, having wreaked in full 
 The rape of Helen on all the Trojan name. 
 Not Paris, or all his people leagued in one,^ 
 May boast their suffering lighter than their deed. 
 Proclaimed a thief and robber, he hath lost 
 More than his booty, having razed to the earth 
 His father's house and ravaged his own land. 
 Priam's sons have paid the penalty twice o'er. 
 
 Cho. Hail ! herald of the host ; I bid thee joy. 
 
 Her. Yea ; from this moment I could welcome death. 
 
 Cho. Didst thou so yearn for this thy fatherland ? 
 
 Her. So that warm tears stand in mine eyes for 
 gladness. 
 
 Cho. Then in that trouble ye were not unblest. 
 
 Her. Let me be master of that speech. Explain. 
 
 Cho. Being touched with love of those who longed 
 for you. 
 
 Her. Mean you the land yearned likewise for her sons ? 
 
 Cho. Ay ! these dim souls have often sighed for you. "^ 
 
 Her. Whence came this cloud ? We would not have 
 it so. 
 
 Cho. Silence hath long been our best remedy. 
 
i6o AGAMEMNON. [549-578- 
 
 Her. How ? Feared ye any man, your lord away ? 
 
 Cho. In thine own words — we could have welcomed 
 death. 
 
 Her. I spake that in my joy. Yet looking backward, 
 Doubtless, our hap was chequered with some woe. 
 Who, save the gods, eternally command 
 Pleasure unmingled ? Were I now to tell 
 Our toils and hardships 'neath the open sky,' 
 Lying on narrow bunks, ill-lined and bare. 
 Lamenting each day's lack of every store ; 
 Then on firm land, still worse, to lodge i' the field. 
 Close under the enemy's wall, with rain from heaven 
 Or dews from the damp meadow, drizzling over 
 Our clothes, our bodies, and our clotted hair : — 
 Or should one tell o' the storm-wind, striking down 
 The falcon from her pride, with icy power 
 Swooping from Ida's snows ; or of the heat, 
 When idle Ocean in his bed at noon 
 
 Lay motionless, and not an air might breathe 
 
 But no ! Why grieve o'er troubles that are past ? — 
 
 So past for some, as never any more 
 
 They will care to rise from where they lie. But we, 
 
 The living, why should we to-day count over 
 
 The lost, or mourn malignant Fortune's power ? 
 
 Farewell, say I, to sorrow ! We survive ; 
 
 Our gain o'erweighs past trouble, and to-day 
 
 On land, or coursing over seas, we call 
 
 This morning's sun to look upon the host 
 
 Returning with triumphant spoils from Troy, 
 
 By us at length subdued, — to hang them up 
 
578-607. J AGAMEMNON. 161 
 
 In all the temples of Hellenic gods 
 A bright and everlasting monument. 
 Hear this, ye people, and extol your State 
 And our great leaders, duly rendering praise 
 To Zetas, first author of these gifts. I have said. 
 
 Enter Clytemnestra. 
 
 Cho. Your happy tidings have prevailed to cheer me. 
 The old are ever young enough to learn 
 When good approaches. And thy words bring good, 
 To our queen and palace first, and then to me. 
 
 Cly. Long since I raised the shout of joy, when came 
 The first night-messenger of fire to tell 
 That Troy was taken, Ilion overthrown. 
 Men chid me, saying, " Dost thou now believe, 
 Persuaded by a bonfire, Troy is fallen ? 
 How like a woman to be thus elate ! " 
 Yet brought I mine oblation, and glad cries 
 In female notes were sounded here and there 
 About the city, — as with incense poured 
 They soothed, at every shrine, the odorous flame. 
 Now, why ask more of thee ? I shall hear all 
 From mine own husband when he comes. I will haste 
 Nobly to meet my lord's return. What light 
 Is sweeter to a woman's eyes than that 
 Which floods the opening gate when Heaven brings home 
 Her husband from the war ? Bear back this word. 
 Let him come quickly, loved of all the land. 
 And may he find the wife he left behind 
 Unchanged, still faithful \ watching o'er his home, 
 
 M 
 
i62 AGAMEMNON. [607-635. 
 
 Like a good house-dog, fierce to his enemies, 
 
 But kind to him ; and holding unprofaned 
 
 So long, the pressure of his last embrace. 
 
 Of joys with other men, or guilty word, 
 
 I know no more than of the blacksmith's art. 
 
 Such boast, instinct with honest truthfulness, 
 
 A noble wife may utter without blame. [Exit. 
 
 Cho. Herald, thine ear, a plain interpreter. 
 Hath taught thee the fair meanings of the queen. 
 But tell us now, we pray thee, of the prince 
 This land delights to honour, Menelaiis, — 
 Comes he with you in safety to his home ? 
 
 Her. Were I to utter false glad tidings here. 
 Short-lived were that delight for those I love. 
 
 Cho. Ah then ! let what is good be likewise true ! 
 Goodness and truth dissevered are soon known. 
 
 Her. I tell the simple truth. The man is lost, 
 Gone from the fleet. His ship is no more seen. 
 
 Cho. Say, launched he forth from Troy in sight of men, 
 Or did a storm, that troubled all your host, 
 Snatch him away ? 
 
 Her. You hit the centre there, 
 
 Condensing in brief words a world of woe. 
 
 Cho. How ? What report from other mariners 
 Was noised about him as alive or dead ? 
 
 Her. One only could with surety answer you, 
 The Sun, who nourishes Earth's various brood. 
 
 Cho. How mean you that the storm assailed the fleet 
 And proved the executor of wrath from Heaven ? 
 
636-664. J AGAMEMNON. 163 
 
 Her. A day of blessing ought not to be stained 
 With news of bale. Heaven's honour should be clear. 
 An evil messenger with darkened brow 
 That brought you tidings of an army's fall, 
 A two-fold horror, doubly charged with woe. 
 First for the country's wound, then for the homes 
 Whose men had been devoted to the scourge 
 Loved of the War-god, armed with death and dole — 
 The tongue so laden with calamities 
 Might chant this hymn of heavenly wrath. 
 
 But I, 
 Who come with news of peace and bright success 
 To a city smihng with prosperity. 
 Why must I dash my good with ill, by telling 
 Of the dire storm Heaven sent to plague our fleet ? 
 Fire and the sea, those ancient foes, were leagued 
 In firm alHance visibly fulfilled 
 To wreck our ill-starred navy. 'Twas i' the night 
 Came the onset of the billowy adversary, 
 Fraught with disaster, for the Thracian blast 
 Smote ship 'gainst ship, that gored and butted each 
 Her neighbour, buffeted with swilling brine 
 And raging tempest, till they passed from sight 
 Like kine a madman drives. On that wild scene 
 The sun arising cloudless, showed us all 
 The .iEgean strewn with wreaths of floating wreck, 
 And bodies of Achaean men. Our vessel, 
 Some power divine, or pleading with the storm 
 Or thwarting him, made scathless. 'Twas no mariner, 
 But saving Providence, stood by our helm, 
 
i64 AGAMEMNON. [665-692. 
 
 And steered us, neither to a boisterous road-stead. 
 Nor on the breakers of a rock-lanced shore. 
 Then, rescued from that watery death, amidst 
 Fair dayhght, not believing our escape, 
 Our thoughts were mindful of a new distress. 
 Mourning the wreck and havoc of our fleet. 
 May Heaven still work us good ! So much is clear. 
 If any of those we parted from still breathe, 
 They reason of our death as we of theirs. 
 And as for Menelaus, let us hope 
 He above all may be preserved, and come 
 Back to his home. Zeus wills not yet, we trust, 
 His race should perish, — and will find some means 
 To keep him still in life. Somewhere the sun 
 Beholds him, and his eyes enjoy the day. 
 Now, Argives, I have told you all the truth. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Who gave the ill-omened name. 
 So fraught with terror for the time to be, 
 
 So true to her career of blame ? 
 War-won, war-wed, war-wakening Helenfe ? 
 Was he some prophet-spirit unknown to fame. 
 
 With sure presentiment 
 
 Fore-speaking Time's event ? 
 The name of Helen tells of ships aflame, 
 
 Of souls to Hades sent. 
 Of countries ravaged, cities overthrown. 
 
 From out the delicately curtained bower. 
 
 Borne by the West-wind's earthbom power. 
 
692-7J7.] AGAMEMNON. 165 
 
 In Paris' nimble galley forth she went, 
 
 And when they touched on Simois' shore, 
 With cytisus and myrtle overgrown, 
 
 A many-shielded pack 
 
 Following the viewless track 
 
 Of their swift oar, 
 Came bent on slaughterous feud and fierce arbitrament. 
 
 That bond, so rightly styled. 
 Bound Ilium with a chain of endless care, 
 
 Sent by some spirit of anger wild 
 Resolved on ruin, minded to prepare 
 Revenge for hospitality defiled 
 
 On those who sang that day 
 ■ The lawless marriage-lay, 
 Provoking wrath hard to be reconciled. 
 
 Her new-found brethren gay 
 Thought not if Zeus approved the enforced song. 
 
 Now they and theirs have learned a different strain, 
 
 And Priam's ancient town with pain 
 Groans heavily from forth her ashes grey, 
 
 Calling on Paris the accurst. 
 The guilty cause of unforgiven wrong ; — 
 
 She that in wild despair 
 
 For generations fair 
 
 Herself had nursed. 
 Had spent long years of wailing 'midst the fray. 
 
 What image fits Troy's fall ? 
 A man, I will say, 
 
i66 AGAMEMNON: [718-740. 
 
 Cherished within his hall 
 
 A cub, for play, 
 Just weaned, but hardly, from the lioness. 
 
 The prelude of his life 
 
 Was far from cruel strife ; 
 The darling of young boys, a thing of sportiveness ! 
 
 Even old men felt the charm ; 
 
 Oft in the nestling arm 
 'Twas dandled, like to human babyhood ; 
 
 When stroked, he made reply 
 
 With fondly brightening eye ; 
 When hunger pressed, he crouched and fawned for food. 
 
 But as with time he grew 
 He showed his stock. 
 
 And with dire outrage slew 
 The home-bred flock, 
 So making ill return for all that care ; 
 
 Till all the peaceful floor 
 
 With blood was dabbled o'er : 
 The household slaves beheld in mute despair. 
 
 The self-provided feast 
 
 Of that unbidden guest 
 Spread havoc round him wheresoe'er he moved. 
 
 Sent by some god to earth 
 
 To plague a sinful hearth, 
 A priest of Atfe's self that nursling proved. 
 
 Even so methinks there came to Troia's town, 
 One tempered like the calm on windless seas, 
 
74i-?7i] AGAMEMNON. 167 
 
 A face to smite the soul but ne'er to frown, 
 A joy luxurious, crowning wealth with ease. 
 
 Love there in bloom entranced the passionate mind. 
 But soon she turned and made a bitter end 
 
 Of nuptial, in old Ilion's hour of need ; 
 
 By Zeus who punisheth where guests offend 
 
 Brought thither as a bane to Priam's seed : 
 
 Kinship unblest ! companionship unkind, 
 
 Sad bride of tears, fell fury unconfined ! 
 
 Wise lips declared, and 'tis an agfed saw. 
 
 That man's prosperity, maturely grown. 
 Hath offspring that succeeds by Heaven's high law, — 
 
 From happy fortune misery full-blown : 
 A different thought by me shall be confessed ; 
 
 The issue of impious deeds is evil still, 
 With plenteous increase, like to like succeeding ; 
 
 Not so begets its race the righteous will. 
 But the fair life fair fortune aye is breeding. 
 No evil brood disturbs that peaceful nest. 
 The house of the upright evermore is blest. 
 
 The pride of former years engendereth pride 
 
 Youngly insulting o'er calamity ; 
 Or soon or late, what matters ? When the tide 
 
 Of time brings on the day of destiny 
 For that fell birth, even then is born the Power, 
 Unblest, resistless, making warriors cower. 
 Infatuate Boldness, whose o'ershadowing gloom 
 Veils all the house with darkness of the tomb ; 
 Such parentage hath bloomed in such fell flower. 
 
i68 AGAMEMNON. L772-794. 
 
 The light of Righteousness in smoky homes 
 Shines unimpaired, honouring the humble lot j 
 
 From gilded halls impure, as Earth she roams, 
 She turns her gaze to bless the pious cot ; 
 
 The power of riches falsely stampt with praise 
 
 Wins not her worship by its spurious blaze ; 
 
 Her judgment ever points to the far goal 
 
 Whereto she leads all lives with sure control. 
 
 Shaping the hour to suit with distant days. 
 
 Enter Agamemnon, in a chariot, with Cassandra 
 beside him. 
 
 Leader of Cho. King of Argos and scion of Atreus, 
 
 destroyer of Ilios' town. 
 With what words shall I greet thee aright, how award 
 
 thee thy meed of renown. 
 Neither shortening thy merits unduly, nor aimlessly 
 
 rushing beyond ? 
 Our race oft transgresseth in judgment. Too many 
 
 weak mortals are fond 
 Of the seeming of right, not regarding how Justice 
 
 offended may frown. 
 
 Men are ready with sighs for the fall of a friend, while 
 
 the heart is unwrung ; 
 And with smiles for success, where the face is compelled 
 
 to accord with the tongue. 
 
79S-8I3J AGAMEMNON. 169 
 
 But the shepherd who tells o'er his flock with due heed 
 
 cannot fail to discern 
 The eyes that in waterish kindness pretend with affection 
 
 to burn. 
 
 Then know, for I will not dissemble, when once thou 
 didst marshal the host 
 
 Thou hadst levied to fight for fair Helen, providing at 
 infinite cost 
 
 Forced courage in soldierly bosoms of thousands pre- 
 pared to be slain. 
 
 Unlovely to me looked thine image, unskilful thy hand 
 to maintain 
 
 Thy spirit's true course, as thy bark on that weltering 
 ocean was tossed. 
 
 But now from my soul's depth arises a voice of warm 
 
 welcome for those 
 Whose labour, of doubtful beginning, is fortunate here at 
 
 the close. 
 And in time thou shalt clearly discover, of all thou didst 
 
 leave in command, 
 Who have failed or been faithful in keeping their charge 
 
 and protecting the land. 
 
 Agam. Argos, dear country, and my country's gods ! 
 Ye claim my foremost word. Without your aid 
 I had ne'er returned, nor wrought on Priam's town 
 This righteous retribution. Yea, the gods. 
 Moved by the unspoken pleadings, one and all 
 
170 AGAMEMNON. [814-842. 
 
 Gave sentence for the slaughterous sack of Troy. 
 The blood-stained Vase had all the votes. I' the other 
 " Hope lingered," while no plenishing hand came 
 near. — 
 
 Her smoke still shows the desolate city's fall. 
 Tis Ruin's altar, whence the dying ashes 
 Of wealth consumed spout forth voluminous breath. 
 For this we are bound to recompense the gods 
 With mindful thank-offerings. Our vengeful snare 
 Held firm, that none escaped, but glorious Ilium 
 Was, for a woman's sake, ground into dust 
 By the apparition of the monstrous birth 
 That, whilst Orion sank, one autumn night, 
 Leapt from the Horse in Argive panoply. 
 A ravening lion, o'er the walls he sprang, 
 And lapped rich largess of the blood of princes. 
 
 So far forth I address the gods. Meanwhile, 
 I bear in mind your moderate words, and like 
 The spirit they convey. Your thoughts are mine. 
 Few men are born so tempered, as to look 
 Without some envy on a prosperous friend. 
 The venom of unkindness, lodged within. 
 Clings to the heart and doubles all annoy ; 
 While men not only mind their own distress. 
 But groan at other men's prosperity. 
 How well I know, and could describe, the friend 
 In name, the mirror of companionship— 
 Indeed a mirror, a mere fleeting shade. 
 Odysseus only, who sailed against his will. 
 Once yoked with me, was ever staunch and true. 
 
843-869.] AGAMEMNON. 171 
 
 I say it of one of whom to-day I know not 
 If he be dead or yet alive. 
 
 For the rest, 
 Touching the city and the gods, we will call 
 Our larger council, and deliberate there 
 In full assembly, studying to preserve 
 Whatever in the present state is well ; 
 And where some cure is needed, we will try. 
 With remedies gently administered, 
 Though sometime sharp and painful, to prevent 
 All dangerous malady. — Now, to my hall. 
 Where my first greeting shall again be made 
 To the kind gods, who sent me safely forth, 
 And bring me home in peace. May Victory, 
 Since hither she attends us, here remain ! 
 
 Re-enter Clytemnestra. 
 
 Cly. Ye men of Argos, elders of our state, 
 I will not shame to tell before your face 
 My wifely love. The fear of man wears off 
 With time. My heart instructs me to declare 
 How, while your sovereign tarried before Troy, 
 My life was doleful. 'Tis no light distress 
 To sit at home forlorn, the man away. 
 Malignant rumours ever in one's ears. 
 One crying he came ; another, he had brought 
 Dishonour, worse even than his death. Moreover, 
 Had he as many wounds as loose-tongued Fame 
 Gave forth, a net had fewer holes than he. 
 And had he died as often as 'twas said. 
 
'72 AGAMEMNON. [870-901. 
 
 A second Geryon, with three bodies, he 
 
 Had donned a threefold mantle of earth, — I pass 
 
 The abyss of ground beneath him, — in each form 
 
 Dying once at least. Vexed by such wild reports, 
 
 I had often tied the noose above my head 
 
 Which others took perforce from off my neck. 
 
 Hence, too, Orestes is not here, our son. 
 
 The pledge of both our loves. Nay, marvel not ! 
 
 Our kind ally and friend, Strophius in Phocis, 
 
 Keeps him in ward. 'Twas he admonished me 
 
 Of a two-fold danger, thine beneath Troy- wall. 
 
 And of this Argive state, lest popular fury 
 
 Upset the Council ; — as mankind are apt, 
 
 When one is down, to trample him the more. 
 
 None can suspect a shallow pretext there. 
 
 As for my tears, they spouted till the fount 
 
 Ran dry, and kept no drop. But on my bed 
 
 Mine eyes were worn with watching, early and late, 
 
 Grieving because the fires of thy return 
 
 Were still unkindled. And amidst my dreams 
 
 The gnat's small peremptory tones would wake me. 
 
 While seeing more dangers than the time could hold 
 
 Assailing thee. But now those weary days 
 
 Are over, and I shout, exempt from care, 
 
 " Here stands the watch- dog of the fold ; the mainstay 
 
 That saves the vessel ; yea, the lofty pillar 
 
 That holds the roof from ground : — an only son 
 
 Returning to his father ; or, to mariners. 
 
 Firm land appearing beyond hope, fair day 
 
 Seen after tempest ; to the thirsty traveller. 
 
901-926.] AGAMEMNON. 173 
 
 A spring of running water 'mid the sand. 
 
 To escape from wretchedness is always joy.'' 
 
 Such terms of greeting have I for my lord. 
 
 Let envy rest aloof, since in the past 
 
 We have borne much misery. But now, dear king, 
 
 Light from that car, not setting foot on earth, 
 
 Thou, that hast trodden down the strength of Troy ! 
 
 Maidens, why tarry ye, that have command 
 
 To pave the floor of his path with cloth of grain ? 
 
 Let there be made forthwith a purple road. 
 
 That, to complete the Day's surprise, great Justice 
 
 May lead him to his home. 
 
 For what remains, 
 Considerate thought, not giving way to slumber. 
 Shall order well whate'er the gods decree. 
 
 \The female attendants prepare to lay the carpet. 
 Agam. Daughter of Leda, guardian of my Hall, 
 Thy welcome, like mine absence, hath been long. 
 Yet praise that rightly squares with my desert 
 Must come to me from others. Furthermore, 
 Do not, I pray thee, like some eastern slave, 
 Meet me with loud and prostrate courtesies, 
 Nor with this woman-pleasing luxury 
 Of purple trappings, pluck down on my path 
 An eye of envy. To the gods alone 
 Such tribute should be paid. For mortal man 
 To trample on rich webs of varied hue 
 To me is a thing by no means void of fear. 
 I seek for human honours, not divine. 
 Fame needs no carpets nor embroidered wefts 
 
174 AGAMEMNON. [927-952- 
 
 Beneath her feet, to sound her note of praise. 
 And modesty is Heaven's best gift. When one 
 Shall end a happy life in peace and joy, 
 Then celebrate his glory ! By this rule 
 We still may live and prosper, safe from harm. 
 
 Cly. Come, tell me this, and hide not your true thought. 
 
 Agam. With thought unaltered I will answer thee. 
 
 Cly. You might have vowed this in some hour of peril ? 
 
 Agam. I know it. None better. Prompt is that reply. 
 
 Cly. And what of Priam, were he conqueror now ? 
 
 Agam. He had paved his path with broideries, I 
 believe. 
 
 Cly. Be not too sensitive to vulgar blame. 
 
 Agam. The people's muttered verdict hath great 
 power. 
 
 Cly. Who is not envied, ne'er will be admired. 
 
 Agam. Contentiousness in woman is not well. 
 
 Cly. Nay, but 'tis gracious, when a victor yields. 
 
 Agam. Is this a battle in which you care to win ? 
 
 Cly. Come, let me triumph on the taker of Troy ! 
 
 Agam. If you must have it so, let some one loose 
 The shoe that like a slave supports my tread ; 
 Lest, trampling o'er these royal dyes, some god 
 Smite me with envious glances from afar. 
 It awes me not a little thus to plunge 
 In luxury, walking on webs of price. 
 
 \His slippers are removed. 
 So, that is settled. But receive, I pray thee, 
 This stranger-woman kindly. Heaven still smiles 
 When power is used with gentleness. No mortal 
 
9S3-977-] AGAMEMNON. 175 
 
 Is willingly a captive, but this maid, 
 
 Of countless spoils the flower and crown, was given 
 
 To me by the army, and attends me home. 
 
 [He descends, while Cassandra remains upon the 
 car. 
 Now, since you have subdued me, I obey. 
 Thus pacing over purple to my hall. 
 
 Cly. Of purple, 'neath the inexhaustible sea. 
 Enough remains to garnish many a realm 
 With precious dye for raiment oft renewed. 
 We too, my monarch, by the help of Heaven, 
 Possess our share. No poverty is here ! 
 / had vowed to trample many a gorgeous robe, 
 Had oracles enjoined it on our house. 
 In hope of bringing home this glorious head. 
 Our root was still i' the ground. But now returns 
 The foliage, that gives shadow from the heat. 
 Thy coming is our warmth in winter time : 
 But at the season when Zeus turns the grape 
 From sour green sap to wine, 'tis shady and cool 
 I' the palace, while its lord is walking there. \He goes in. 
 
 Zeus — thou fulfillest all — fulfil my prayer ! 
 And take thou charge of all thou doest herein ! 
 
 \Exit Clytemnestra, 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 What means this haunting Fear 
 Incessant hovering near 
 To scare my prescient heart with vague unrest ? 
 
176 AGAMEMNON. [978-1007. 
 
 This hymn, unhired, unbidden, of bodings drear ? 
 
 Why may not Hope renewed 
 
 With strong belief of good 
 Regain her wonted seat in my dear breast ? 
 Away, dim dreams ! Cease from your vain annoy ! 
 The time is past, when on the sandy coast. 
 Together moored, the ships their beauty lost, 
 
 Ageing, or ere the host 
 Might reach their haven 'neath the walls of Troy. 
 
 Not by report I learn 
 
 Our hero's home return. 
 Myself the eye-witness, I beheld him come. 
 Yet ne'ertheless my spirit doth inly burn, 
 
 And holding firm no more 
 
 Hope's confidence of yore, 
 Sings without lyre that self-taught strain of doom. 
 Not idly stir these inward monishings 
 Within the throbbing heart that beats on thought 
 Of judgment, with prophetic dreams distraught. 
 
 Yet may they come to naught. 
 And let my fears be unaccomplished things ! 
 
 Great health is prone to end in boundless woe. 
 
 Disease weighs hard on the thin partner-wall. 
 And when that neighbour hath looked in, we know 
 
 The man's full fortune but prepares his fall. 
 His ship in her fair course with sudden shock 
 Strikes on the viewless rock. 
 
IOD8-I039] AGAMEMNON. 177 
 
 Even then, if c~aution from a timely sling 
 Some portion of his wealth to the ocean fling, 
 His vessel, lightened of her fateful load, 
 Shall save her timbers from the raging flood. 
 Her fabric shall not founder in the deep. 
 Heaven's ample gifts with the revolving years 
 Shall banish hunger with his brood of fears. 
 Full harvest from rich furrows they shall reap. 
 
 But once let blood of man drop to the ground 
 Before his time, and darken all the sod, 
 
 What spell to call it upward shall be found ? 
 
 What leech so wise ? Though he were all but God 
 
 Who learned the secret of restoring breath 
 To mortals sunk in death, 
 
 Zeus put an end to that for evermore. 
 
 The bound is set, and none may pass it o'er. 
 
 Else ere the tongue could move, the heart should speak 
 
 Of the sore burden, that now bids her break, 
 
 As, darkly muttering her dim desire, 
 
 O'er-fraught with pain, she may not hope to unwind 
 
 The ravelled ponderings of her secret mind, 
 
 That inly burns as with consuming fire. 
 
 Re-enter Clytemnestra. 
 
 Cly. In with thee too, Cassandra ! Get thee in ! 
 Since Heaven in mercy hath consigned thee here 
 To share our household's lustral waters, one 
 Of many slaves that stand around our hearth. 
 Come from that carriage. Be not proud. Descend ! 
 
 N 
 
178 AGAMEMNON. [1040-1066. 
 
 Have we not heard, Alcmena's offspring once 
 Was sold a slave and felt the galling yoke ? 
 But when misfortune brings one to this pass, 
 'Tis no small boon to serve an ancient house ; 
 Since they who have harvested beyond their hope 
 Make cruel masters and exceed the bound. 
 Thou hast such greeting as I use to a slave. 
 
 Cho. She hath said and thou hast heard. Her words 
 are clear. 
 And now thou art in the fatal toils, perchance 
 Thou mayst obey her. But, methinks, thou art loth. 
 
 Cly. Well, if she be not, like the immigrant bird. 
 Possessor of a strange outlandish tongue. 
 My words must find their way and move her will. 
 
 Cho. {to Cass.) Go with her ! What she sayeth is for 
 the best, 
 As things are now. Come down, and leave that 
 car ! 
 Cly. I have not time to waste out here with her. 
 By this the victims at our midmost hearth 
 Stand ready for the slaughter and the fire ; — 
 Rich thank-dflferings for mercies long despaired. 
 Then, if thou wilt obey me, do it with speed. 
 But if thou wilt not understand nor speak. 
 Declare it with the gesture of thy race ! 
 
 Chor. 'Twould seem she needs a clear interpreter. 
 Her ways are as of a creature newly caught. 
 
 Cly. Sure she is mad, and follows crazy thoughts, 
 Who, leaving her own city newly ta'en. 
 Comes hither, and hath not the sense to pace 
 
1066-1092.] AGAMEMNON. 179 
 
 In harness, till she foam away in blood 
 Her spirit upon the bit. 
 
 I'll not demean myself 
 By throwing more words away. \Exit Clytemnestra. 
 
 Cho. But I, unhappy one, 
 
 Will not be angry, for I feel for thee. 
 Come, leave that car deserted, yield to Fate, 
 And prove the unaccustomed yoke. Descend. 
 
 Cass, {from the car). Ai, ai ! O Apollo ! Apollo ! 
 
 Cho. Wherefore that cry to Phoebus ? Not for him 
 The voice of mourning. 
 
 Cass. Ai ! Apollo ! Apollo ! 
 
 Ai ! Ai ! O Apollo ! 
 
 Cho. Again she summons with that sound of woe 
 The god whose ears detest it. 
 
 Cass. O my Apollo ! 
 
 Builder ! Destroyer ! 
 Builder of Troy ! Destroyer of me ! 
 Once more thy heavy hand with ease hath ruined me. 
 
 Cho. Hark ! She will prophesy of her despair. 
 A captive, yet she holds the heavenly fire ! 
 
 Cass. Apollo ! Apollo ! 
 Troy-builder ! Destroyer of me ! 
 
 Ha! What is here? What roof? Whither hast thou 
 brought me ? 
 
 Cho. The Atridae's palace. If thou know'st it not, 
 I tell thee plainly ; and thou wilt find it true. 
 
 Cass. Ah ! 
 Nay, but a hideous den, abhorred of Heaven ; 
 Guilt-stained with strangled lives, with kinsmen's blood ; 
 
liio AGAMEMNON. [1093-1115. 
 
 A place of sprinkled gore, of clotted horror ! 
 Ah! Faugh! 
 
 Cho. Her scent is keen, this stranger's ! Like a hound 
 She snuffs for blood. And she will find, I doubt me. 
 Cass. Yea ! There, there, there ! Here's evidence 
 enough ! 
 Smell ? Nay — I see, I hear them ! Little children 
 Whose throats are cut, still wailing of their murder, 
 And the roast flesh, a father tasted — swallowed ! 
 
 Cho. We have heard of thy renown in prophecy. 
 But yet forbear. There needs no prophet here. 
 Cass. Ah ! what is this ? Oh me ! 
 
 What strange new grief is risen ? 
 A deed of might ! She plans it there even now 
 
 Beneath yon roof, a plague 
 Hard to remove, not to be borne ; an act 
 Of hate for love ; and succour bides aloof, 
 Far, far away ! 
 Cho. This prophecy is tiark to me. The last 
 Was clear. Our city rings with that old woe. 
 Cass. Wretch ! Wilt thou do it ? Ah me ! 
 The lord of thine embrace, 
 When thou hast bathed him that his bright limbs glow, — 
 
 How shall I tell it ? 'Twill come ! 
 'Tis here ! She lifts her hand ; she launches at him 
 Blow following blow. 
 Cho. I understand not yet. The oracular word 
 Blinds with its riddling purport : I am perplexed. 
 Cass. What apparition ? Oh the pain ! What is it ? 
 Some net of Death and Hell ? 
 
III6-H42.] AGAMEMNON. i8i 
 
 Nay, 'tis the snare o' the chamber, th' accessory 
 O' the murder. Let yon pack that ravins on the race 
 Howl, " Out upon the butchery ! Stone her ! Stone 
 her!" 
 Cho. What cry of ban-dogs bid'st thou curse the house ? 
 Thy speech appals me. To my heart runs back 
 The death-drop, that when life is ebbing fast 
 From mortal wounds, and his last beam is pale, 
 Falls with his setting. Oh ! how swift is sorrow ! 
 Cass. What do I see ? Ah, keep away the cow 
 From the lordly bull ! Look, look ! 
 She hath caught him in the garment, smites, and gores 
 
 him 
 With that black weapon of hers. He falls, he falls 
 I' the watery tun, the guileful, fatal caldron ! 
 
 Cho. I would boast of little skill in prophecies ; 
 But I may guess, this raving bodes no good. 
 Yet when was soothsaying bright ? 
 What sound of cheer have prophets for the world ? 
 Ills are their stock-in-trade"; words are their tools. 
 
 With chanted strains of woe 
 They strike vain terror into mortal mind. 
 Cass- Woe ! for my hapless doom ! 
 To fill the cup, I tell my own sad tale ! 
 Why hast thou brought me to this place ? Oh misery ! 
 To die with thee ? What else ? To die ! to die ! 
 
 Cho. Thou art distraught, or else possessed. Some 
 god 
 Bears thee away to sing of thine own doom 
 A wild untutored song, like her 
 
1 82 AGAMEMNON. [1143-1168. 
 
 The brown sweet nightingale, — once a princess yonder, 
 Insatiable of wailing^ her sad heart 
 Still set on sorrow, mourning evermore 
 For Itys, Itys ! 'Tis her life. She blooms 
 With misery. 
 
 Cass. Oh ! for a lot like hers ! 
 
 The clear-voiced maid, to whom kind gods have given 
 A feathery form and wings ! Safe, calm, sweet life ! 
 Mine, to be cleft in twain with two-edged brand. 
 
 Cho. Whence this returning trouble of thy soul, 
 This god-fraught, vain distress, the ill-omened cry 
 
 That peals in terrifying song ? 
 Whence comes thy music, whence thy thrilling lay ? 
 What limits hath thy Heaven-inspired way ? 
 Who set them ? Who hath given the evil word 
 Wherewith thy breast is stirred ? 
 
 Cass. Paris, thy wedding hath destroyed thy house, 
 Yea, and thy sister ! — Q Scamander-stream ! 
 Our fathers drank of thee, and by thy shore 
 I grew, I flourished, oh unhappy I ! 
 But now by dark Cocytus and the banks 
 Of Acheron, my prophecies shall sound. 
 
 Cho. Now speak'st thou plainly. Even a child might 
 know; 
 And when I hear that word, 
 Thy plaintive notes strike me with cruel stings 
 Of pity and wonder for thy life of pain. 
 
 Cass. Troy, thou art fallen, never to rise. Thy 
 woes 
 No sacrifice abated nor reprieved 
 
1169-1196.] AGAMEMNON. 183 
 
 Of all my father slew before the towers, 
 
 Poor herb-fed victims ! Troy is fallen in fire ; 
 
 And I, on fire, erelong shall fall in blood. 
 
 Cho. That strain agreeth to thy former words. 
 Some god of cruel mind 
 With mighty force impels thee to this dirge, 
 As if thy life were doomed. The end I know not. 
 
 Cass. No longer, like a newly married girl. 
 My word shall peep behind a veil, but, flashing 
 With panted vehemence to meet the day, 
 'Twill dash, against the shores of Light, a sorrow 
 Of mightier volume. 
 
 I will expound it. Mark me ! 
 No riddling now ! Bear witness if ye find me 
 Keen to discern or agile to pursue 
 The trail of long-past crime. 
 
 There bides within 
 A band of voices, — all in unison. 
 Yet neither sweet nor tuneful, for their song 
 Is not of blessing. Ay, a revel-rout. 
 Ever emboldened with new draughts of blood. 
 Within these walls, a furious multitude. 
 Hard to drive forth, keeps haunt, all of one kin. 
 They cling to the walls : they hymn the primal curse, 
 Their fatal hymn ; then in due course they spurn 
 A brother's bed, by a hateful brother mounted. 
 
 Say, was that shaft well aimed ? Or am I proved 
 No seer, — a forward babbler at the door ? 
 Declare this on your oath : Have I, or not, 
 
l84 AGAMEMNON. [1197-1220. 
 
 Learnt one old secret of this house of sin ? 
 
 Cho. How should an oath, the noblest ever sworn, 
 Prove healing in this case ? 
 
 Howbeit, I marvel, 
 Brought up o'erseas, thou shouldst portray the state 
 Of a strange people, as thou hadst heard and seen. 
 
 Cass. Prophet Apollo thus empowered my soul. 
 
 Cho. Was he, although a god, smit with thy love ? 
 
 Cass. Time was, I had blushed to utter such a word. 
 
 Cho. Well-being is daintier than adversity. 
 
 Cass. Sweet was it when he wrestled for my heart. 
 
 Cho, Came ye to close embraces, as men use ? 
 
 Cass. I promised Phoebus, but belied my troth. 
 
 Cho. When fired already by the Spirit Divine ? 
 
 Cass. Already I foretold my country's woe. 
 
 Cho. How couldst thou 'scape the wrath of Phoebus, 
 then? 
 
 Cass. No man believed me from that fatal hour. 
 
 Cho. To us, methinks, thy words seem true. 
 
 Cass. Oh! oh! 
 
 Alas I my misery ! 
 
 Again the terrible whirlwind comes ! the pain 
 Of Truth's deliverance, troubling all within me. 
 
 See ! the beginning of sorrows ! What are these ? 
 What dreamlike forms kneel on yon roof? Young boys, 
 As they'd been slain by those who should have loved 
 
 them, 
 Holding a burden piteous to be borne. 
 Gobbets of flesh, their very own, their entrails, 
 
1 221-1246,] AGAMEMNON. 18 
 
 Clearly discernible, — the heart, the liver, 
 Of which their father ate ! 
 
 For this, I say, 
 Vengeance is plotted by a craven lion 
 That tumbled in the lordly monarch's lair 
 In his absence, — so kept house for him, — alas ! 
 My master. Once a captive, one must bear it ! 
 He ruled the fleet, and razed the towers of Ilium, 
 But knows not what the monster-woman dares ; 
 What sequel to her garrulous speech and face 
 Of welcome, brightening as the moon, — like Atfe 
 Lurking in night,^ — she'll work with wicked speed. 
 The man-slaying woman ! To what horrid form 
 Shall I compare her, and be true ? To Scylla, 
 That raging mother of death, dwelling in rocks. 
 Now rending the poor mariner, but once 
 A pitiless curse to her own ? — or Araphisbsena ? 
 
 Heard ye her triumph ? Even as warriors shout 
 Who turn the battle, so the woman cried, 
 Seeming to joy in his return from war. 
 
 Ye are still incredulous. It makes no difference. 
 What is to come, will come, — and soon. Thou, seeing, 
 Shalt pity, and say, " Her soothsaying was too true ! " 
 
 Cho. Thyestes' banquet of his children's flesh 
 I understood, and shuddered. Fear possessed me 
 To hear it truly given, each point observed. 
 But as I listened further, I was lost. 
 
 Cass. Agamemnon's death, I tell thee, thou shalt see. 
 
i86. AGAMEMNON. [1247-1269. 
 
 Cho. Unhappy one ! Speak no ill-omened word ! 
 Cass. This time I summon not the god of healing ! 
 Cho. Death has no healer. But be it far, I pray ! 
 Cass. Ye pray, while others slay ; or are about it. 
 Cho. What man can be the author of this woe ? 
 Cass. What man ? Far wide indeed that arrow flew ! 
 Cho. Yea, for I cannot guess who is to do it. 
 Cass. And yet I have learnt too well the speech of 
 
 Hellas. 
 Cho. So has the Pythoness. Yet her words are dark. 
 Cass. Oh pain ! What burning fire ! It comes, it 
 comes ! 
 Lykian Apollo ! Woe ! me miserable ! 
 
 This human lioness, couching with a wolf 
 While the noble lion was away, will kill 
 Me the unfortunate, a fair prize, to make 
 One more ingredient in her chalice of bane. 
 Sharpening her husband's death-knife, she declares 
 My death, too, shall requite his bringing me. 
 — Why wear I still these mockeries of my soul. 
 This wand, these fillets round my neck ? I tear ye 
 Thus ! Go to your destruction ere I die ! 
 To pieces with you ! Lead the way ! I follow ! 
 Enrich some other life with misery ! 
 
 See ! see ! Apollo ! he is stripping from me 
 This prophet-mantle. 
 
 Ay, thou didst visit me ! 
 Thine eye beheld me, even in these hallowed weeds, 
 
1270-1298.] AGAMEMNON. 187 
 
 Insulted, spurned, with those who loved me well, 
 
 By our enemies who swept in like a flood. 
 
 They called me beggar-priestess, roving seer ; 
 
 I bore it, — dying with hunger, poor, dismayed ! 
 
 And now the Seer of seers. Prophet supreme. 
 
 Disrobing here his prophetess, conducts me 
 
 To this dark ending. For my father's altar. 
 
 What waits me now ? The block, the bloody knife, 
 
 The hot last blow that ends the sacrifice. 
 
 Yet shall we die not unobserved of Heaven. 
 
 He lives, who shall avenge us. Come he shall, 
 
 The mother-slaying scion of his race. 
 
 Redeemer of his sire's renown. From far 
 
 The wanderer shall return, and put the cope 
 
 On these home troubles. For the gods in Heaven 
 
 Have sworn a mighty oath, his father's fall 
 
 Shall draw him from his aUen dwelling-place. 
 
 Why do I linger thus and mourn, since first 
 
 I saw my city's ruin ; and again 
 
 Her captor, judged of the gods, receives this doom ? 
 
 I will go forward ! I will dare to die ! 
 
 Hail, then, thou gate of Hell ! 
 
 But first, one prayer ! 
 Oh, grant me, all ye gods ! a mortal wound ! 
 That with no struggling, while the deathful stream 
 Flows painlessly away, these eyes may close ! 
 
 Cho. Deep-thoughted, deeply suffering maid, thy words 
 Have far extended. If thou know'st thy doom 
 For certain, how canst thou, like god-driven victim, 
 Walk boldly toward the altar of thy death ? 
 
i88 AGAMEMNON. [1299-1322. 
 
 Cass. It may not be avoided. 'Tis the hour ! 
 Cho. But every moment's respite has some worth. 
 Cass. The time is come. Small gain were flight to me. 
 Cho. A bold heart hast thou for thy bitter woe. 
 Cass. None but the wretched hear such benison. 
 Cho. Yet mortal life is graced by a noble death. 
 Cass. Woe for thee, father, and thy noble sons ! 
 
 \She is approaching the palace-gate — then turns away. 
 Cho. What terror turns thee backward from the gate ? 
 Cass. Ah woe ! 
 Cho. What's thine abhorrence ? or why criest thou 
 
 thus? 
 Cass. These halls exhale with murder ! drip with 
 
 death ! 
 Cho. 'Tis but the reek of household sacrifice. 
 Cass. 'Tis like a charnel-room. It steams with gore. 
 Cho. Other than Syrian perfume find'st thou, then ? 
 Cass. Nay, I will go within, and there bewail 
 Agamemnon's fate and mine. I have done with life ! 
 
 Oh strangers ! friends ! 
 
 I shrink not idly, like some timorous bird 
 
 Before a bush ! Bear record in that day 
 
 When I am dead, and for this woman slain 
 
 A woman's life is taken, and, for the man 
 
 Whose wife was naught, a man shall meet his doom. 
 
 Ye hear my last request before I die. 
 
 Cho. Poor maid ! We pity thy prophetic fall. 
 
 Cass. Once more I would speak, not now with tears, 
 but firmly, 
 
1323-1347-] AGAMEMNON. 189 
 
 Touching myself. To thee, O Sun, I pray, 
 
 Looking my last on thee, that when the Hour 
 
 Is here, and vengeance tarries not, I, too, 
 
 A captive prey,— soon quelled, — may be avenged. \Exit. 
 
 Cho. Ah ! What is mortal life? When prosperous, 
 A shadow can o'erturn it, and, when fallen, 
 A throw o' the wet sponge blurs the picture out. 
 ■This is more piteous than the ruin of pride. 
 
 Who hath e'er been content with his triumph, or spoken 
 
 to Fortune this word, 
 — While men point with the finger of envy at halls he 
 hath reared for his pride, — 
 
 " 'Tis enough ! Come not hither again ! " 
 
 To this king the immortals have given to vanquish the 
 
 glory of Troy, 
 And, favoured of Heaven, with honour he comes from 
 
 the war to his home. 
 But if now to requite ancient murders he die in the 
 midst of his joy. 
 Who shall boast to be free from disaster ? 
 Agam. {within). Ah ! Ah ! I am mortally stricken, 
 
 here, in the palace ! 
 Cho. I. Hush ! Who cries that he is wounded, 
 
 stricken with a mortal stroke ? 
 Agam. Oh me ! Again I am smitten, to the death ! 
 Cho. I. It was the king. That groan concluded all. 
 'Tis finished ! Let us join safe counsels here. 
 
igo AGAMEMNON: [1348-1371. 
 
 Cho. 2. Then, hear my judgment. Sound we an 
 alarm, 
 And draw the city to the palace-gate ! 
 
 Cho. 3. Nay, let us break within immediately. 
 And prove the fact before the knife be cold. 
 
 Cho. 4. That likes me better. Let us act, say I, 
 In some way. 'Tis no time for long debate. 
 
 Cho. 5. One may see plainly, when such signs appear, 
 Treason and tyranny are near at hand. 
 
 Cho. 6. Ay, we lose time, whilst others are in act 
 And triumph o'er our solemn feebleness. 
 
 Cho. 7. I know not what to say. To advise is hard, 
 Since counsel is forestalled by action here. 
 
 Cho. 8. Hard, say you ! So think I ! 'Twere hard, I 
 trow. 
 With reasoned words to raise the dead to life. 
 
 Cho. 9. Then must we all our days be over-awed 
 To their subjection who have stained the throne? 
 
 Cho. 10. To die were more endurable than so. 
 Death is a milder doom than tjnranny. 
 
 Cho. II. Are we diviners, to conclude from groans 
 He, that so cried, fell with a mortal stroke ? 
 
 Cho. 12. Let's talk no more of this until we know. 
 Barren conjecture is a treacherous guide. 
 
 Leader of Cho. The sum of all your counsels, then, is 
 this: 
 That we make certain how it goes with the king. 
 
 \They are approaching the gate, when Clytem- 
 NESTRA is discovered with the dead body of 
 Agamemnon enveloped in the embroidered web. 
 
1372-1400.] AGAMEMNON. 191 
 
 Cly. I, who spake much before to serve my need, 
 Will here unspeak it, undisturbed by shame. / 
 How else prepare the hostile net to slay 
 One's foe, supposed one's friend, and fence it high 
 Beyond o'erleaping ? — Time, and thought still brooding 
 On that old quarrel, brought me to this blow. 
 'Tis done, and here I stand : here where I smote 
 
 him ! — 
 I so contrived it, — that I'll ne'er deny, — 
 As neither loophole nor defence was left him. 
 I had set round, like a stake-net for fish, 
 A labyrinth of hangings, with no outlet, 
 A limb-embarrassing wealth of woven folds. 
 I smote him, twice : and with the second groan 
 He sank : and when he had fallen, I gave a third 
 Last stroke, to crown the sacrifice, and grace 
 Pluto, preserver of the dead. Even then, 
 His soul on wing for Hades, his keen breath 
 Smote me with drops of slaughter, whose dark dew 
 Refreshed my spirit, even as the bladed corn 
 That swells to the ear, delighteth in heaven's rain. 
 Such — oh ye Argive elders who stand here, — 
 Such is the fact. Whereat, an if ye will, 
 Rejoice ye ! Howsoe'er, it is my boast. 
 Yea, were libation meet o'er human victim. 
 Here 'twere most righteous. Such a cup of death 
 He filled with household crime, and now, returning, 
 Has drained in retribution. 
 
 Cho. Wondrous bold 
 
 Of tongue art thou, to boast thus o'er thy lord ! 
 
192 AGAMEMNON. [1401-1422. 
 
 Cly. Presume ye, as though my thoughts were 
 womanish ? 
 I dare your wisdoms. Ye know all, and — blame me 
 Or praise, — 'tis one to me. This corpse, I tell you, 
 Is Agamemnon, once my lord ; — his death 
 The work of this right hand, proud to have wrought 
 A masterpiece so righteous. Ay, 'tis true. 
 Cho. Woman, what evil food 
 
 From either element, of earth or sea. 
 Solid or liquid, mingling with thy blood 
 Hath prompted thee 
 To kill such sacrifice, and then 
 Fling back from thee the muttered curse of men ? 
 Hast thou cut him off? Thou shalt be cut oflf from the 
 state ; 
 Our citizens shall hate thee with firm hate. 
 Cly. That is your sentence. I must fly the land 
 With public execration on my head. 
 Wise justicers ! what said ye, then, to him 
 Who slew his child, nor recked of her dear blood 
 More than if sacrificing some ewe-lamb 
 From countless flocks that choked the teeming fold, 
 But slew the priceless travail of my womb 
 For a charm, to allay the wind from Thrace ? How say 
 
 you? 
 Should he not have been banished by your voice 
 To purge the state ? Yet, hearing of my deed, 
 Ye are swift and harsh in judgment. 
 
 Threaten, then, 
 Even as ye list ; but so as, being assured. 
 
I423-I44S-] AGAMEMNON. 193 
 
 That force must win the day. If so ye win, 
 I yield. But if Zeus give my plans success, — 
 And they are deeply laid,— you shall be taught, 
 Old as ye are to learn, the path of peace. 
 
 Cho. Haughty thy spirit, and proud 
 Thy vaunting. But as thine infatuate soul 
 Inflamed with murder, in defiance loud 
 Contemns control, 
 While lurid light is in thine eye. 
 Intoxicate with impious butchery, — 
 Unavenged, with no lover at hand, in thy Destiny's 
 day, 
 
 With blow for blow the forfeit thou shall pay. 
 Cly. Say you? Then hear mine oath. By mighty 
 Justice, 
 Final avenger of my murdered child, 
 By Atfe and Erinnys, gods of power. 
 To whom I sacrificed this man, I look not 
 For danger as an inmate, whiles our hearth 
 Is lightened by ^gisthus, evermore, 
 As hitherto, constant in love to me ; 
 My shield, my courage ! He is fallen, who shamed me 
 In dalliance with Chrysdis and the rest 
 Before the Trojan wall. Ay, and that other, 
 His prophet-mistress, his oracular love. 
 His captive-conqueress, that shared his bed 
 On shore, his bench i' the ship : — she too now lies 
 In death. They have full recompense. You see 
 His fortune— as for her, she tuned her lay 
 Most swanlike for her end, wailing their doom. 
 
 o 
 
194 AGAMEMNON. [1446-1476. 
 
 So died the damsel this man brought to lend 
 New savour to the softness of my bed. 
 
 Cho. O for some speedy stroke, 
 Not of sharp agony nor lingering pain, 
 To bring on us the unawakening sleep ! 
 Since he, our gentlest guardian is subdued. 
 And through a woman's guilt. — A woman slew him ! 
 Infatuate Helen, who alone didst send 
 So many souls to Hades under Troy ! 
 A life worth all the rest thy sister's deed 
 Hath quenched in darkness. From one little seed 
 Is grown a strong and everspreading tree 
 Of man-destroying strife and misery. 
 
 Cly. Pray not for your death, overburdened with what 
 hath been done ; 
 Neither turn your displeasure on Helen, of Hellas the 
 
 bane, 
 Who sped many souls to destruction and caused unendur- 
 able pain ! 
 
 Cho. O demon of the home. 
 That with alternate violence dost fall 
 On either branch of Pelops' ancient line, 
 Thou to my bitter sorrow wieldest here 
 Man-daring boldness in a woman's mind. 
 Like hateful raven, o'er her husband's corse 
 She stands and croaks at us, in accents hoarse. 
 Her proudly inharmonious funeral hymn. 
 
 * If * * « 
 
 Cly. At length there is truth on your lips. Ye name 
 rightly the Fiend overgrown 
 
1477-1504-] AGAMEMNON. 195 
 
 Whose seed in this mansion was sown. 
 'Tis of him that the blood-lapping-lust at its core hath 
 
 been nursed. 
 Ere the grief from old wounds have abated, fresh foun- 
 tains of bloodshed are burst. 
 Cho. Mighty and fell of wrath 
 Declar'st thou then the Genius of the race ; 
 Recalling a disastrous history 
 Of dire offences irremediable 
 And endless. Zeus the cause ; — for what in man 
 Eludes the author of the Eternal Plan ? 
 
 Oh king, my king, how shall I weep for thee ? 
 What words of affection shall flow from my heart ? 
 Thou art there in that web of the spider, dishonoured in 
 death, 
 'Oh horror ! oh murderous guile ! 
 Dishonoured, and cleft with the sword, 
 The warm life yet running from thee ! 
 
 Cly. Ye proclaim it my deed. Yet beware ! 
 Say not I was wife to the king. 
 'Tis the spirit of Vengeance awaking from sleep 
 For the banquet by Atreus of old to Thyestes cruelly 
 
 given, 
 Putting on the resemblance of her that was queen to the 
 dead. 
 That hath visited all upon him, 
 And hath sternly repaid a grown victim for little ones 
 slain. 
 
196 AGAMEMNON. [1505-1534- 
 
 Cho. That this is not thy work 
 Who will bear witness ? The offence is thine, 
 Whatever spirit of hoarded recompense 
 From elder ages may have wrought with thee. 
 Not yet accomplished is the course of strife, 
 The clotted guilt of infant gore yet cries 
 For kindred streams of bloody sacrifice. 
 All from one source, life rendered still for life. 
 
 Oh king, my king, how shall I weep for thee ? 
 What words of affection shall flow from my heart ? 
 Thou art there in that web of the spider, dishonoured in 
 death, 
 Oh horror ! oh murderous guile ! 
 Dishonoured, and cleft with the sword, 
 The warm life yet running from thee ! 
 
 Cly. Prate not of dishonour ! " Deserving " were 
 rather the word. 
 Had he not prepared for his house an encumbrance of 
 woe? 
 Let him not loudly plead there below 
 That in paying the price of -her death whom a nation 
 
 deplored, 
 The branch I had reared from his loins, he is slain with 
 iniquitous sword. 
 Men shall reap what they sow ! 
 Cho. I am baffled and amazed, and know not whither 
 To turn me now the house begins to totter 
 Lashed with red rain, that saps it to the fall. 
 
ISSS-'S^S-] AGAMEMNON. 197 
 
 I fear it ! This is no mere drizzling shower. 
 Fate now is whetting Justice' heavy sword 
 On a new whetstone, for fresh deeds of harm. 
 
 O Earth, Earth ! would thou hadst covered me. 
 
 Ere I saw in his low-lying bed, 
 'Twixt the sides of yon bath-tub of silver, the king whom 
 
 I love ! 
 
 Who shall bury his corpse, who lament him ? 
 
 Wilt thou have the heart, 
 Having slain thine own husband, to peal forth his dirge 
 And atone with light breath for the heavy offence thou 
 hast done ? 
 
 Ah, who shall be found to repeat for the man now divine 
 The due praise o'er his grave, pouring tears with each 
 word sorely wrung 
 By deep thought from the truth of his soul ? 
 Cly. Have no care. 'Tis not yours to provide. I will 
 bury the man whom I slew. 
 No train from the palace shall wail round his bier. But 
 
 his daughter, to yield him his due. 
 Running forward to welcome her sire at the quickly 
 
 passed ford of the dead, — 
 His Iphianassa,, — shall open her arms and shall cling. 
 With a kiss, to the king ! 
 Cho. Reproaches cross. The battle is hard to judge. 
 Robber is robbed, slayer slain. Revenge is sure. 
 Firm stands, while Zeus remains upon his throne, 
 
igS AGAMEMNON. [1564-1590. 
 
 One law, " Who doeth shall suffer." Who may cast 
 The brood of curses from yon roof? The race 
 Is joined and welded to calamity. 
 
 Cly. Therein thou hast prophesied aright But I 
 Here make my compact with the hellish Power 
 That haunts the house of Atreus. What has been, 
 Though hard, we will endure. But let him leave 
 This roof, and plague some other race henceforth 
 With kindred-harrowing strife. Small share of wealth 
 Shall amply serve, now I have made an end 
 Of mutual-murdering madness in this hall. 
 
 Enter ^gisthus. 
 
 ^g. Sweet day of recompense, I hail thy light ! 
 Now, lords of yon v/ide heaven, I recognize 
 Your jurisdiction o'er the griefs of men. 
 When I behold this man, to my great joy. 
 Laid in yon shroud of the Erinnyes, 
 So punished for his father's act of guUe. 
 Atreus his father, ruling the Argive land, 
 But challenged of his right, to tell it plainly, 
 By his own brother and my sire, Thyestes, 
 Drave him an exile from his country and home. 
 Then poor Thyestes, coming back to Argos 
 A humble suppliant at his brother's hearth, 
 Obtained remission of the doom of death. 
 And Atreus, feigning gladness that those fields 
 Should not be darkened with fraternal blood. 
 Received him at a banquet, with great show, 
 
iS9i-i6i6.] AGAMEMNON. 199 
 
 But little heart, of hospitality. 
 
 As holding a high day of sacrifice, 
 
 He set before him — his own children's flesh. 
 
 The feet and hands with tell-tale finger-tips 
 
 He kept concealed where by himself he sate 
 
 At head o' the board : and with those marks away 
 
 My father knew not, but received and ate 
 
 What brought unbounded sorrow, as thou seest. 
 
 To all our race. For when he came to know 
 
 The horror that was wrought, sickening he fell 
 
 Back from that carnage with a cry, and laid 
 
 This dreadful curse on the Pelopidae, 
 
 That as he kicked the banquet to the ground, 
 
 All Pelops' line might have like overthrow. 
 
 Hence came his fall you now behold. 
 
 And I 
 Have the best right to have contrived his death. 
 I, my poor father's thirteenth child, was driven 
 Along with him, a babe in swaddling bands. 
 Now, Justice brings me home, a man indeed. 
 And while still out of doors I laid my hand 
 On this mine enemy, with plans secure 
 Weaving the plot that should entangle him. 
 So that to-day I were not loth to die. 
 Seeing him fast in Retribution's net. 
 
 Cho. ^gisthus, to insult over the fallen 
 Wins not my homage. You confess to have slain 
 Agamemnon by your will ; alone to have planned 
 This piteous massacre ! The people's curse 
 Awaits thee, be thou sure, with stones to boot. 
 
200 AGAMEMNON. [1617-1642. 
 
 yEg. Thou say'st it ! thou, that pliest the nether 
 oar, 
 While those on the top-bench manage the spear ! 
 Thine age shall find how hard a lesson 'tis 
 When old men have to learn obedience. 
 Bondage and prison-fare combined with eld 
 Work miracles in healing firoward spirits. 
 Behold the proverb here exemplified : — 
 " Kick not at goad-pricks, else your heels shall rue ! " 
 
 Cho. (to Cly.) Woman, and when the king returned 
 from war, 
 Hadst thou, that kept his house, shaming moreover 
 Thy husband's bed, prepared for him this death ? 
 
 [Clytemnestra remains silent. 
 
 ^g. Again your tongue leads you the way to woe I 
 The opposite of Orpheus' voice is thine. 
 He drew all after him with charming lay. 
 But thou, with foolish clamour rousing wrath, 
 Shalt be dragged off, that power may humble thee. 
 
 Cho. Methinks I see thee lord of Argive men ! 
 That, when thou hadst devised this massacre, 
 Too craven wert thyself to strike the blow. 
 
 .^g. Guile was the woman's function. I, moreover, 
 Had waked suspicion from our ancient feud. — 
 His wealth is mine to use, and I will use it 
 To rule your city. He that disobeys 
 Shall be bowed down beneath my heavy yoke. 
 No minion of the side-trace and the stall ! 
 Darkness and hunger, grooming him together. 
 In harsh consent shall join to make him tame. 
 
1643-1659-] AGAMEMNON. 201 
 
 Cho. Thou didst not quell him, coward that thou 
 wert, 
 Thou durst not cope with him ; a woman slew him, 
 Staining our country and our country's gods ! 
 O that Orestes, if he lives to-day. 
 Might yet return auspiciously to Argos, 
 And kill both tyrants in his prime of power ! 
 
 j£g. So, ye choose that line of talk and conduct ! Ye 
 
 shall quickly find 
 
 Ho, brave guards, come rally round me ! Here's a field- 
 day to your mind. 
 Cho. Come, let every man make ready for the en- 
 counter, sword in hand ! 
 ^g. Come, I dare the death in combat for mine 
 
 empire o'er the land. 
 Cho. " Death ! " that word is right : I embrace it. 
 
 Fortune,_let the omen stand ! 
 Cly. Dearest one, let strife have ending. Add not to 
 the heap of ill ! 
 As it is, of troublous labour we are doomed to reap our 
 
 fill. 
 Woes enow are here already ; let not blood o'erpass the 
 
 bound. 
 Back, ye dotards ; know your places ! Run in your 
 
 appointed round, 
 Lest ye rue the deeds ye ponder ; let your rude conten- 
 tion cease ! 
 
 Might but this be all of sorrow, we would bargain now 
 for peace, 
 
io2 AGAMEMNON. [1660-1673. 
 
 Harassed by the heavy heel of God that trampled on 
 
 our lot. 
 So resolves my woman's wisdom, whether men give heed 
 or not. 
 ^g. Can I bear that these should idly from submis- 
 sion break away, 
 Flaunting proud rebellious phrases in defiance of my 
 
 sway, 
 Holding light the Power that guides us as our Providence 
 to-day ? 
 Cho. Men of Argos ne'er will cringe in homage to a 
 
 man of crime. 
 ^g. You shall yet repent that language, visited in 
 
 aftertime. 
 Cho. Not if God direct Orestes homeward for his 
 
 people's good. 
 JEg. Well I know that men in exile make of Hope 
 
 their daily food. 
 Cho. Do thy worst ! Grow fat, polluting Justice. It 
 
 is now thine hour. 
 yEg. Know that one day for this folly thou shalt 
 
 answer to my power. 
 Cho. Boast thee without fear exulting, like a cock 
 
 beside the hen ! 
 Cly. Care not for the idle yelpings of these old and 
 feeble men. 
 I and thou together ruling with a firm and even hand 
 Will control and keep in order both the palace and the 
 land. 
 
THE CHOEPHORCE, OR LIBATION- 
 BEARERS. 
 
 PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. 
 
 Orestes. 
 
 Pylades. 
 
 Chorus of Trojan Captives. 
 
 Electra. 
 
 The Nurse o/^ Orestes. 
 
 Clytemnestra. 
 
 ^GISTHUS. 
 A Porter. 
 An Attendant. 
 
 Scene — (i) Before the tombs of the Pelopidae. The tomb of 
 Agamemnon and a bust of Hermes are in the foreground. (2) After- 
 wards, before the palace of the Pelopidae. 
 
 Time — About ten years after the death of Agamemnon. 
 
^GISTHUS and Clytemnestra have been reigning for some years at 
 Argos. The people are discontented, but on the whole submissive. 
 Menelaus is still absent. The only friends of Agamemnon in the 
 Palace are (i) Electra, whom her mother treats as a slave ; (2) the 
 Trojan captive women whom he had brought home with Cassandra 
 (these form the Chorus of the Choephoroe) ; and (3) the Nurse of 
 Orestes, who is retained as one of the household. Orestes is now 
 grown to manhood, and, impelled by the oracle of Delphi, returns 
 from Phocis, with his friend Pylades, to execute vengeance on the 
 murderers of his father. Electra and the Trojan women have been 
 sent by Clytemnestra with an offering to the shade of Agamemnon, 
 who is more likely to be propitious to them than to his murderess, — 
 in consequence of an alarming vision, in which the Queen has 
 dreamt of giving birth to a serpent, and taking it to her breast. 
 Electra pours the libation with very different prayers from those 
 intended by Clytemnestra, — above all for her brother's return ; 
 whereupon Orestes reveals himself, and declares his purpose. He is 
 urged to the fulfilment of it by Electra and by the Trojan women, 
 who join with him in a solemn and earnest appeal to the soul of the 
 dead to assist his avengers. 
 
 Orestes then approaches the palace-gate. The gate-keeper at 
 length opens to him, and Clytemnestra comes forth. Orestes in 
 disguise reports his own death. His mother receives the news with 
 well-feigned grief: but gives a good reception to the supposed 
 messenger. They go into the Palace. 
 
 jEgisthus, summoned by the Nurse, arrives from out of doors, 
 and follows them. Shortly afterwards, his death-shriek is heard. 
 Clytemnestra is called in haste from the women's apartments, and 
 at once realizes the truth. She cries out for an axe, but before it is 
 brought, Orestes is discovered, with the corpse of ^Egisthus beside 
 him. Clytemnestra wails over the death of her lover. This rouses 
 the fury of Orestes. But his mother uncovers her breast, and appeals 
 to that sacred symbol of maternity. The son is for a moment 
 shaken. But Pylades (who speaks only here) recalls to his friend's 
 mind the oracle of Apollo. From this point, pleading and menace 
 are alike in vain. In her extremity, the courage of Clytemnestra rises 
 to its former height, and she threatens Orestes with the furies that 
 wait on matricide. The dreadful act is accomplished within the 
 palace, and the Chorus utter a strain of mingled sadness and joy — 
 in which, however, joy is predominant. But a change is at hand. 
 Orestes is again discovered, with the corpses of both his victims, 
 and vindicates his action by displaying the fatal garment in which 
 Agamemnon had been slain. In the midst of his self-defence, 
 however, his mind falters, and, when he has declared his purpose of 
 going to Delphi for purgation, he sees the Erinnyes advancing 
 towards him, and he flees forth as pursued by them. 
 
THE CHOEPHORGE, 
 
 OR 
 
 LIBATION-BEARERS. 
 
 Orestes {with Pylades). 
 
 Orestes. O Hermes of the Shades, that watchest over 
 My buried father's right, be now mine aid. 
 I come from exile to this land. Oh save me ! 
 
 ****** 
 Father, here standing at thy tomb, I bid thee 
 Hear me ! Oh, hear ! 
 
 \He lays two locks of hair on the grave. 
 
 ****** 
 One lock for Inachus, 
 Whose waters nursed my growing life ; and one 
 In mourning for the dead. . . . 
 Father, I was not here to wail thy death. 
 I stretched no hand of farewell to thy bier. 
 
 ****** 
 Soft ! What are these ? I see a company 
 Of women,. whose dark raiment should portend 
 Some wintry mission. What can be the cause ? 
 
2o6 THE CHOEPHORCE, [13-31- 
 
 Is some new sorrow fallen upon the house ? 
 Or may I trust my mind's presage, that these 
 Are laden with drink-offerings for my sire, 
 Such as appease the wrath of powers below ? 
 It must be so. For look 1 Electra there, 
 Distinguished by deep grief, comes slowly on ; 
 My sister ! Zeus ! grant me to wreak the death 
 Of my great father : give me gracious aid ! 
 Dear Pylades, let us withdraw, and mark 
 What means this female supplication here. 
 
 \They retire. 
 
 Enter Electra : after her the Chorus. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 In haste from yonder halls we are sped 
 
 Bearing libation for the dead. 
 
 My head resounds with many a blow. 
 
 And on my cheek the crimson glow 
 
 Doth shine, that hands have printed fresh 
 
 With furrowing nails on tender flesh. 
 
 (Groans are my spirit's lifelong food, 
 
 By haunting sorrow still renewed.) 
 
 These modest folds that shroud my breast I tear 
 
 With deafening noise that echoes my despair. 
 
 Rending the flaxen woof. 
 
 Because the palace-roof 
 
 Knows one more stroke to-day 
 
 Of laughterless dismay. 
 
32-S3]' OR LIBATION-BEARERS. 207 
 
 A dream-born cry at dead of night, 
 Stiffening the hair with wild affright, 
 Fierce rushing with tempestuous blast 
 Throughout the women's chamber passed. 
 Bursting from out the inmost room, 
 It scattered sleep, it pierced the gloom : 
 A prophet dread was the dire dream 
 That in the house raised that fell scream. 
 And when the dream-interpreters were found, 
 They cried aloud, by heavenly sureties bound, — 
 " One rages there beneath 
 
 Menacing death for death. 
 
 He never will forgive 
 
 His slayers, die they, or live.'' 
 
 Hence the unblest mission for averting bane 
 The godless woman sends me to sustain. 
 O holiest Earth, she is eager ! But I fear 
 To broach this word for divine ears to hear. 
 
 What gifts can stay the rod. 
 When blood hath stained the sod ? 
 
 {Here they point to the palace. 
 O home of despair, undermined to thy fall 
 By a hate long engendered in freeman and thrall. 
 What horror enshrouds thee ! It blots out the sun. 
 
 Sorrow reigns. Joy is done ! 
 Gross darkness envelopes the mansion, abhorred 
 
 For the death of its lord. 
 
208 THE CHOEPHORCE, [54-76. 
 
 The majesty that once subdued this folk 
 In speechless awe beneath the unquestioned yoke, 
 With listening ear and humbled heart, is gone ! 
 Trembling hath seized on Argos' ancient throne ! 
 
 Where Fortune makes abode, 
 There is the people's god ! 
 
 But Justice her balance is holding above : 
 
 She will visit for sin, whether slowly she move. 
 
 Or swift; — noon or evening, what matters the hour? 
 
 Whether twilight have power, 
 Or night have come down ere the doom be declared, 
 
 Not a soul shall be spared. 
 
 Blood is decreed (as if with iron pen 
 
 'Twere graven on brass) to atone for blood of men. 
 
 Deep Earth once drank and shall not lose again. 
 
 Sorrow shall tear his heart who made to flow 
 
 That bitter fount of still upswelling woe. 
 
 He who hath once unsealed the virgin bower, 
 
 Can ne'er undo his deed : nor shall the power 
 
 Of all Earth's rivers, in one flood, restore 
 
 To purity the hand once tinged with gore ! 
 
 Leader of Cho. But helpless is my lot. The gods let 
 down 
 A cruel net round all our town. 
 And I was borne, far from my father's hall. 
 Where I, a foreign thrall, 
 
78-ios.] OR LIBATION-BEARERS. 209 
 
 Must pass my life obedient to the sway 
 
 Of powers that reign to-day. 
 
 Just or perverse, their bidding must be done. 
 
 Howe'er my heart reluctant groan 
 
 With hatred of their violent will, 
 
 My passion must be still. 
 
 But shivering sobs within my garments' fold 
 
 Mourn secretly the righteous cause grown cold, 
 
 Of him, my lord of old. 
 
 El. Ministrant women, orderers of the house, 
 Since ye move with me to this suppliant rite, 
 Be ye my counsellors, how I must perform it. 
 When I shall pour this tribute at the grave, 
 What words will be in tune, what prayer will please ? 
 Shall I say. Father, from a loving wife 
 This comes to thy dear soul : yea, from my mother ? 
 That dare I not. — I know not how to speak. 
 Shedding this draught upon my father's tomb. 
 Or shall I say, as mortals use, Give back 
 The giver meet return ? to wit, some evil ? 
 Or in dishonoured silence, as he fell. 
 Shall I give Earth to drink of this, and go. 
 Like one who carries offal forth and jerks 
 The jar behind with unregarding eye ? 
 Be sharers of this counsel, dear my friends ! 
 We bear a common hatred in the hall. 
 Hide not your thoughts within for fear of any. 
 Since Destiny holds in her iron grasp 
 Sovereign and slave alike. Be kind, and speak. 
 
210 THE CHOEPHORCE, [105-131. 
 
 Cho. Yea, from the heart we will speak. Thy father's 
 tomb 
 With sacred awe constrains us to thy will. 
 
 El. Speak, as ye fear my father's resting-place ! 
 
 Cho. So pray that friends may hear with reverent heed. 
 
 El. What friends ? Who are they that should care to 
 hear? 
 
 Cho. Thyself, and whoso hates ^gisthus' sway. 
 
 El. My prayer extends, then, to myself and you ? 
 
 Cho. Let thine own heart consider, and declare. 
 
 El. What other should I rank upon our side ? 
 
 Cho. Think of Orestes, though he be not here. 
 
 El. Well said and wisely ! That most heartens me. 
 
 Cho. Then think of those who shed this blood, and 
 pray— 
 
 El. How ? Teach me ; I am ignorant. Speak on. 
 
 Cho. Some power, divine or human, may descend — 
 
 El. To judge or execute ? What wilt thou say ? 
 
 Cho. Few words, but clear : To kill the murderer. 
 
 El. But will the gods not frown upon such prayer ? 
 
 Cho. Do they not favour vengeance on a foe ? 
 
 El. O mightiest herald both in Heaven and Hell, 
 Assist me, Hermes of the shades, and tell me 
 My prayer is heard by those beneath the ground. 
 The Powers that keep watch o'er my father's grave. 
 And by great Earth, who teems with all, and feeds them. 
 And takes them back for seed to her own womb. 
 — I, pouring this lustration for the dead. 
 Speak thus appealingly : My father, pity 
 Thy child, and let Orestes be brought home. 
 
132-156.] OR LIBATION-BEARERS. 211 
 
 For now we are lost, your dear ones : sold, disowned, 
 
 By her that bare us ; who has ta'en for husband 
 
 ^gisthus, thy part-murderer, in thy room. 
 
 I am no better than a slave j Orestes 
 
 Is banished from his wealth ; and o'er thy woe 
 
 They gloat in luxury and towering pride. 
 
 Then, father, hear my prayer, that to this land 
 
 Orestes come with Fortune leading him. 
 
 And for myself, grant me a better mind 
 
 Than e'er my mother had, and hands more pure. 
 
 This prayer is for thy children : on thy foes 
 
 Thyself arise, I charge thee, for revenge. 
 
 To make the murderer pay thee death for death : 
 
 (This curse must mar my perfect prayer) : O father, 
 
 Send us from where thou liest some boon above. 
 
 With Heaven and Earth and conquering Right for aid ! 
 
 Such prayers doth this libation crown. — Now ye 
 
 Adorn with wailing dirge the solemn rite, 
 
 And hymn the dead with customary cry. 
 
 \As the following lines are chanted, 'Euectra Jiours 
 three several libations. In doing so, she ob- 
 serves the lock of hair, and takes it up. 
 Cho. Wail ye ! let the tear down flow 
 
 For the lord that here lies low. 
 
 Sound his dirge before the hill, 
 Where safely sleep souls good and ill. 
 
 May the curse our hearts abhor, 
 
 May the portent we deplore, 
 
 Be averted by the power 
 
 Of the soft libation's shower ! 
 
212 THE CHOEPHORCE, [156-176. 
 
 Hear us, master, ever kind, 
 Hear us in thy darkened mind ! 
 
 — Woe for us and woe for thee, \To Electra. 
 Child of endless misery ! 
 
 Where is he that was to come 
 And redeem the royal home ? 
 — Mighty spearman, with strong hand 
 Closed on the descending brand ! 
 From his bow of Scythian bend 
 Swift the War-god's shaft to send ! 
 Holding firm, in act to kill. 
 Bow and brand and dauntless will ! 
 El. Earth now has drained that offering to my sire. 
 But here, — what think ye ? There is more to tell. 
 
 Cho. Speak on ! My heart is bounding with new fear. 
 El. Look what I have found : this curl upon the 
 
 tomb ! 
 Cho. Shorn by what man, or what long-kirtled maid ? 
 El. No mystery there ! Whoever sees may know. 
 Cho. Old as I am, youth must enlighten me. 
 El. One man alone could shear it from his brow ! 
 Cho. They who in blood should mourn for him are 
 
 foes. 
 El. Well, here is a resemblance not obscure ! 
 
 \Holding the lock to her own head. 
 Cho. Tell us. What crispbd locks wouldst thou 
 
 compare ? 
 El. His and my own. 'Tis a strong likeness, women ! 
 
177-205.] OR LIBATION-BEARERS. 213 
 
 Cho. Can this, then, be Orestes' sacred gift ? 
 
 EL Methinks I see this curl upon his head. 
 
 Cho. But how should he have ventured to come hither ? 
 
 El. Ay. 
 Perchance he hath sent this tribute to his sire. 
 
 Cho. I find no less occasion for my tears, 
 If on this land he ne'er shall plant his foot. 
 
 El. Yea : on my heart the bitter waves of grief 
 Strike hard : I faint, as from a staggering blow ; 
 And from mine eyes a wintry flood comes down 
 Of drops that slake not sorrow, since I saw 
 This hair. Whom else in Argos can I think of 
 With locks of equal sheen ? nor was it shorn 
 By her that slew the king ; mother to me 
 In word ; but in her mind, towards her own offspring. 
 Her Heaven-offending thoughts have no such name. 
 I may not yield an absolute belief 
 That this fair offering came from the head 
 Of my most dear Orestes : but the hope 
 Thrills through me. Ah ! could it but speak, and tell me 
 Kind news, I were not shaken thus and cloven, 
 Thinking two ways : but either with clear scorn 
 I would renounce it, as an enemy's hair ; 
 Or being my brother's, it should;mourn with me. 
 And pay sweet honours at our father's tomb. 
 I call the gods to witness, for they know, 
 Amidst what troubles we, like mariners, 
 Are toiling ; yet, if Fate intend our good, 
 A little seed may bear a mighty stem. 
 See, see ! a second proof ! The footmarks here 
 
214 THE CHOEPHORCE, [206-230. 
 
 Are like and comparable to mine ! — What else ? 
 Why, there are two of them, two printed forms, 
 His own, no doubt ! and some companion's tread. 
 Measuring the heel and foot-palm's pressure, see ! 
 The length accords with what my steps have made. 
 — Yet am I pained. My heart is sore distraught ! 
 
 Or. {coming forward). First tell the gods thy former 
 prayer is heard. 
 Then pray that all the rest be likewise good. 
 
 El. Why? What hath Heaven performed for me but 
 now? 
 
 Or. Thou seest at last whom long thou hast prayed to 
 see. 
 
 El. Whom knowest thou that my prayers were 
 summoning ? 
 
 Or. Orestes' name lives in thy mouth, I know. 
 
 El. Thou saidst my prayer was heard. What couldst 
 thou mean ? 
 
 Or. I am the man. Look not for one more dear. 
 
 El. O stranger, art thou weaving me some guile ? 
 
 Or. If so, I weave a snare for my own feet. 
 
 El. Nay, thou'lt make mockery of my miseries. 
 
 Or. I mock my own, if I mock thine at all. 
 
 El. Shall I, in very truth, call thee Orestes ? 
 
 Or. You see myself, and find it hard to know me. 
 Yet when you spied yon severed mourning hair, 
 And keenly tracked my footstep, your fond heart 
 Was lifted to believe you saw my shape. 
 Set close that curl to this my head, and, look ! 
 The place receives it. 'Tis thy brother's hair. 
 
231-259.] OR LIBATION-BEARERS. 215 
 
 And see this robe which thine own hand once made, 
 The firm woof and the broidered figures here ! 
 — Nay, be not lost in gladness ! Curb thy heart ; 
 We know, our nearest friends are dangerous foes. 
 
 El. Centre of fondness in thy father's hall. 
 Tear-watered hope of blessings yet to be. 
 Faith in thy might shall win thee back thy home ! 
 Oh how I joy beholding thee ! Thou hast 
 Four parts in my desires, not one alone. 
 I call thee Father : and my mother's claim 
 Falls to thy side, since utter hate is hers. 
 And my poor butchered sister's share is thine. 
 And I adore thee as my own true brother. 
 But oh ! may holy Right and Victory, 
 And highest Zeus, the Saviour, speed thee too ! 
 
 Or. Zeus ! Zeus ! be thou beholder of this act ! 
 Look down upon thine eagle's orphan brood 
 Whose sire was strangled in the twisted coils 
 Of the fell serpent. — They in orphanhood 
 Famish with hunger : for their youthful wing 
 Bears not to the eyrie the paternal prey. 
 Even so we twain this day, I and Electra, 
 Stand in thy sight bereaved and fatherless, 
 Both alike banished from the rights of home. 
 But if these nestlings of a pious sire. 
 Who made thy glory great with sacrifices, 
 Be left by thee to perish, whence again 
 Shalt thou be feasted with so full a hand ? 
 As, if thou let thine eagle's offspring die. 
 The tokens that revive men's faith, would fail ; 
 
2i6 THE CHOEPHORCE, [260-^287. 
 
 So, if thou leave to wither this proud stem 
 Of topmost sovereignty, thine altar's crown 
 Shall miss much blood when bulls are slaughtered. 
 Care for us, and a mighty house will rise 
 From this low state of ruined majesty. 
 
 Cho. Children, redeemers of your father's hearth, 
 Speak softly, dear ones, lest your words be known. 
 And some with idle tongue report all this 
 To those now ruling. Whom may I erelong 
 See dead amid dark wreaths of blackening fire ! 
 
 Or. We shall not fail : Apollo's mighty word 
 Will be performed, that bade me stem this peril. 
 High rose that sovran voice, and clearly spake 
 Of stormy curses that should freeze my blood. 
 Should I not wreak my father's wrongful death. 
 He bade me pay them back the self-same deed 
 Maddened by loss of all : yea, mine own soul 
 Should know much bitterness, were this not done. 
 For, so he prophesied, this land should yield 
 Such produce as should gladden every foe ; 
 Whilst on us twain diseases should ascend. 
 Cankering our flesh with cruel sores all over, 
 Devouring what was comely, till grey hairs 
 Should find us, blasted with such misery. 
 And other onsets of the Erinnys-power 
 He said should follow from my father's death 
 If unavenged by me. — For one so slain 
 Sees clearly, though his brows in darkness move. — 
 The darkling arrow of the dead, that flies 
 From kindred souls abominably slain, 
 
288-321.] OR LIBATION-BEARERS. 217 
 
 And madness and vain terror of the mind 
 
 Should harass and unman me, till the State 
 
 Should drive me forth, with brands upon my body. 
 
 So vexed, so banished, I should have no share 
 
 Of wine or dear libation, but, unseen, 
 
 My father's wrath should drive me from all altars. 
 
 None should receive me ; none should dwell with me ; 
 
 And my long friendless life, bereft of honours, 
 
 Should shrivel down to darkness and decay. 
 
 And was not this a word to be obeyed ? 
 
 Yea, were it not, the deed must yet be done. 
 
 Many desires are joined in one strong will, — 
 
 The heavenly oracle ; my heart's deep grief 
 
 For my dead father ; yea, the stings of want. 
 
 Press all one way, forbidding that a race 
 
 The most renowned on earth, whose dauntless spirit 
 
 Razed the proud towers of Troy, — these Argive men — 
 
 Should be the vassals of a brace of women. 
 
 Is he not woman-souled ? This day shall prove. 
 
 [Orestes and Electra draw nearer to the grave. 
 
 Cho. O mighty Fates, let Heaven's high sovereign send 
 The event that Justice chooseth for her end ! 
 She cries aloud, requiring payment due, 
 " The bitter tongue through bitter speech shall rue. 
 Let bloody stroke for bloody stroke be law, 
 The doer must suffer." 'Tis a world-old saw. 
 
 Or. Father, no word of mine, no deed, may bring 
 Light to the darkness where thou liest below : — 
 Yet shall the dirge lament thy matchless woe, 
 And grace the tomb of Argos' noblest king. 
 
2i8 THE CHOEPHORCE, [322-358. 
 
 Cho. Dear youth, the spirit of the dead survives 
 The ravening flame : his wrath long after lives. 
 His dying groan is answered from afar 
 By fierce avengers arming them for war. 
 When the sire falls, true grief is vastly stirred : 
 Shrinks from no toil ; is from no task deterred. 
 
 El. Hear me, too, father, mourning in my turn ; 
 Both thine afflicted ones toward thee yearn. 
 Both outcast, both sad suppliants at thy tomb. 
 What dawn may pierce this overwhelming gloom ? 
 
 Cho. Ay, but even yet may Heaven to yonder hall 
 Glad voices of far differing tone recall. 
 So He but will, funereal notes shall end, 
 And hymns of happy triumph shall attend 
 The fresh home-coming of the royal friend. 
 
 Or. Would that some Lykian hand, 
 Father, had pierced thee in the Trojan land \ 
 Then, leaving glory to thy home, 
 Laying in store for years to come 
 Bright example for thy seed, 
 Full of deep strength for all their need, 
 Thou hadst died before the wall ; 
 And thy body there had found 
 Rest beneath a lofty mound. 
 Lightly recked of in thy hall t 
 Cho. Dear to great souls that there encountered Death, 
 Worshipped and glorious on thy darkling throne, 
 Chief in the van of mightiest kings beneath, 
 
 Thou shouldst have held the place thou here hadst 
 known. 
 
359-386.] OR LIBATION-BEARERS. 2iy 
 
 For in thy time on earth thou wast a king, 
 With sceptred arm all spirits vanquishing. 
 EL Not by Scamander's ford, 
 Amidst the crowd that perished by the sword, 
 Shouldst thou be buried, O my sire ! 
 Nay, rather doth my heart require 
 Thy murderers had found that bier, 
 A far-off tale for us to hear. 
 
 As of battles long ago. 
 Listening to some tuneful tongue 
 With a heart by grief unwrung, 
 Free from all this weight of woe. 
 Cho. Daughter, thou tell'st, for thou hast power of 
 speech, 
 Of fortune above gold, beyond the reach 
 Of men most blest, in climes that poets know. 
 Meanwhile descends this twofold lash of woe 
 With harsh reverberation : Help is there ! 
 
 [Pointing to the tomb. 
 Buried beneath ; and yonder hateful pair 
 
 [Pointing to the palace. 
 Usurp it o'er your hall with hands impure. 
 The living have the hardest lot to endure ! 
 Or. That, like a dart. 
 
 Pierces with maddening smart ! 
 Zeus, thou that sendest from below 
 The late-arriving woe, 
 Thy vengeance falls on every hardened heart. 
 Nor shall a parent's name prevent the blow. 
 
 Cho. May it be mine to shriek with shouts of joy 
 
220 THE CHOEPHORCB, . [387-417. 
 
 O'er her and him, when mighty strokes destroy 
 The lives of both. 
 
 Yea, wherefore should I hide 
 What in my fluttering breast must still abide, 
 The settled hate, that, like an adverse gale. 
 Makes rough my spirit's voyage with thoughts of bale? 
 El. When shall the arm 
 
 Of Zeus, who shields from harm 
 
 The saplings round the prostrate oak, 
 
 Fall with skull-sundering stroke ? 
 Our rights against the unrighteous we demand. 
 Hear, buried powers ! Be faithful to your land. 
 
 Cho. 'Tis ever seen, the homicidal flood. 
 Poured on earth's breast, provokes new streams of blood. 
 Destruction calls the Fury from her lair 
 With woe on woe, despair upon despair, 
 That breathes from men once slain, to plague the slayer. 
 Or. Where is your power to save, 
 
 Lords of the grave ? 
 
 O curse, of endless might, 
 
 From lips long lost to light. 
 
 We, last of Atreus' race. 
 
 Implore thy dreadful grace, 
 Reft of our halls, and outlawed from our right. 
 
 Zeus, whither should we turn ? 
 Cho. Again ye make my changeful heart to yearn 
 Listening your plaintive cry. One while I feel 
 My soul with dark misgiving shake and reel, 
 But by-and-by, the clouds are rolled away. 
 And courage heightens with new hopes of day. 
 
417-440-,] OR LIBATION-BEARERS. 221 
 
 El. How shall we word it well ? 
 
 What horrors tell ? 
 What but the grief and harm 
 ■ Wrought by our mother's arm ? 
 What magic tongue so smooth 
 That rancorous wound may soothe ? 
 Ye may fondle the wolf from the fold, 
 Ere by our mother's voice this rage shall be controlled. 
 Cho. Like the Persian mourner I 
 
 Add the hand-stroke to my cry, 
 Up and down upon my breast 
 Clenching fingers without rest. 
 Scattering bruises round and round, 
 Till my poor head rings dizzy with the sound ! 
 El. O mother ! O enemy ! O hard soul ! 
 Like a foe, unhonoured by funeral bowl, 
 Though a prince, unfollowed by mean or high. 
 Thou didst bury thy husband without one sigh ! 
 Or. Ah ! ah ! Every word there hath stung. 
 But shall she not pay 
 For each shame she then flung 
 
 On my sire ? 
 Heaven and this arm to-day 
 Are mighty with one desire. 
 Let me sweep them off from the earth, — then I, too, would 
 pass away ! 
 Cho. Yet more ; he was hacked, be thou 'ware ! 
 And as she had slain 
 So she buried him there 
 In his blood, 
 
222 THE CHOEPHORCE, [441-468. 
 
 Minded to store much pain 
 To o'ertake thy hfe in a flood. 
 I tell thee the shames thou dost bear from thy sire. Do I 
 speak them plain ? 
 El. Thou hear'st our father's death. But I was 
 driven 
 To grieve apart beneath the dews of heaven ; 
 Chased from the chambers like a thievish hound, 
 To pour my grief in tears upon the ground. 
 They came more readily than smiles. We stole 
 Dark hours for sorrow. Write this in thy soul. 
 
 Clio. Let quiet movement of thy thought engrain 
 These hated truths upon thy heart and brain : 
 
 Part thou hast heard : press on, to learn what lies 
 
 concealed. 
 So with unbated force thou shalt assay the field. 
 
 Or. Father, assist thy children in their deed ! 
 
 El. Thy daughter's tears implore thee in deep need ! 
 
 Cho. And we with both in steadfast harmony 
 Bid thee come forth to light and hear their cry. 
 Join this attempt against thine enemy ! 
 
 Or. The cause is set. The battle doth begin ! 
 
 El. O Gods, be just ; and make the righteous win ! 
 
 1. Cho. These prayers have thrilled me with their 
 
 resolute sound. 
 Long since the doom lies waiting underground : 
 Now shall it come, with desolating bound. 
 
 2. Cho. Harsh toil imposed by Atfe on this race ! 
 Unskilful stroke, vexing a tuneless place ! 
 
469-494-] OR LIBATION-BEARERS. 223 
 
 Intolerable sense of boundless grief ! 
 
 Groans without end ! Sorrows with no reUef ! 
 
 3. Cho. As lint within the sore, so for this wound 
 The remedies within the house are found. 
 Not others out of doors, — ^yourselves must end 
 The strife, and with the murderous foe contend. 
 
 Leader of Cho. So far, our prayer to gods beneath the 
 ground. 
 
 Cho. Oh listen, blessed ones below ! Give grace 
 And glory to these children of your race ! 
 
 Or. My father, king in all but in thy death, 
 I pray for power to rule thine ancient hall. 
 
 El. I too, my father, with a daughter's voice, 
 Pray thee for power to work ^gisthus woe. 
 
 Or. So men shall honour thee with sacrifice 
 And righteous banquets ; else the savoury smoke 
 That steams on earth for souls more fortunate. 
 Shall leave thee comfortless. 
 
 El. And I will bring 
 
 Choice offerings from all my patrimony 
 In day of marriage, and will honour first 
 My father's tomb from the paternal hall. 
 
 Or. Earth, loose my father to o'erlook the strife ! 
 El. Crown all, Persephonb, with fair success ! 
 Or. They took thee in the bath ; father, forget not ! 
 El. Think how the net was first arranged for thee. 
 Or. When thou wast caught in fetters not of brass. 
 El. Yea, in a covering shamefully contrived ! 
 
224 THE CHOEPHORCE, [49S-SI9- 
 
 Or. Stirs not thy soul at these reproaches, sire ? 
 
 El. Doth thy dear head not rise erect in wrath ? 
 
 Or. Either send Justice fighting on our side, 
 If thou wouldst gain requital for thy fall. 
 Or grant us to catch them as they caught thee. 
 
 El. Hear this last cry, my father ! Look with pity 
 On these thy young ones sitting at thy grave. 
 And feel for both, the maiden and the man. 
 
 Or. Wipe not away this seed of Pelops' stock. 
 While this remains, thou livest, even though dead. 
 
 El. For children save the dead man's name from 
 darkness. 
 Like corks, that lead along the fishing-net. 
 Else in the deep the flaxen lines were lost. 
 
 (Hear us ; this mourning we pour forth 
 for thee. 
 Respect it, and thou honourest thine 
 own cause. 
 
 Cho. Unblamed, however long, has been your strain 
 Chanted to honour this unwailed-for bier. 
 {To Or.) Now, since thy heart is tuned up to the height. 
 Act, and make trial of your destiny. 
 
 Or. Yes. But one question points me to my port. 
 What made her send the drink-offering? What late 
 
 thought 
 Bade her shed grace o'er wrongs without recall ? 
 Cold honours, yielded to the senseless dead 
 In wretched guise ! I know not by what words 
 To stamp them, but they cover not her sin ! 
 
520-S49J OR LIBATION-BEARERS. 225 
 
 No draughts, how rich soe'er, can match one drop 
 Of blood. In vain such labour ! All is said. 
 But if thou know'st the thing I ask, content me. 
 
 Cho. I know, dear youth, for we were there. A dream 
 And terror of the night, that vexed and shook her. 
 Drove to this rite her sin-perturbfed mind. 
 
 Or. Say then, have ye clear knowledge of the vision ? 
 
 Cho. She said she bare a serpent in her dream. 
 
 Or. Did all end so ? Or whither turns the tale ? 
 
 Cho. It woke up like a child in swaddling-bands. 
 
 Or. In hunger, the young dragon ! for what food ? 
 
 Cho. She held her breast to appease it in her dream. 
 
 Or. How 'scaped her teat the wounding of its tooth ? 
 
 Cho. Nay, it drew blood thence with the woman's milk. 
 
 Or. This vision cannot vanish unfulfilled. 
 
 Cho. Startled from sleep, she woke the house with cries. 
 And many blazing torches, night had quenched. 
 Renewed last evening's splendours for their queen. 
 Then sped she forth this funeral drink-offering. 
 Late hope, to heal a mortifying sore ! 
 
 Or. Land of my sires, and thou, my father's tomb. 
 May this fair vision be fulfilled in me ! 
 Surely this reading fits, and shows no flaw ? 
 If, slipt from the same place from whence I sprang, 
 The serpent, swaddled on my mother's lap, 
 Showed fight, and gaped upon the teat that fed me, 
 Curdling the kindly milk with clots of gore, 
 That she cried out in terror of such pain, 
 'Tis fated, since she nursed a monstrous thing, 
 She die a bloody death, and I, grown up 
 
 Q 
 
226 THE CHOEPHORCE, [550-577- 
 
 To dragon-hood, must slay her : so this dream 
 Declares. Be ye the seers to test my judgment. 
 
 Cho. So be it ! say we. Proceed; we share thy counsel. 
 
 Or. Few words suffice. Electra goes within : 
 We {pointing to Pylades) follow our intent. And you, 
 
 I charge ye, 
 Do nothing : but preserve in secrecy 
 These plans, by me so ordered, that by guile. 
 Even as by guile they slew that princely man. 
 They may die, tangled in the self-same snare. 
 For so Apollo, to this hour unshamed 
 By prophecies unverified, prescribed. 
 I, like a stranger, in well-chosen garb, 
 With Pylades my friend here, wUl appear 
 Before the courtyard gate, as a known warrior 
 Accepted by the house : and we will speak 
 Framing our tongues like Phocian mountaineers. 
 Well ; in a house oppressed with heaven-sent sorrow, 
 None will receive us at the door with smiles. 
 So we shall stand there, till one pass and say. 
 With dim conjecture of some accident, 
 "Why keep ye suppliants tarrying at the gate, 
 " If that ^gisthus, though from home, have heard ? " 
 Then, cross I but the threshold of the court. 
 Or should he come in afterward and stand 
 Before my gaze, ere he have asked " Whence come ye ? " 
 He falls, caught swiftly on my point of steel. 
 
 '[A pause, in which he seems to be pondering some- 
 thing deeply. 
 Atfe, nought scanted of her rights, shall drain 
 
578-605.] OR LIBATION-BEARERS. 227 
 
 A third deep draught of harshly tempered death ! 
 
 Thou then, my sister, watch the house with care, 
 
 That this emprise may have a flawless issue ; 
 
 And ye, I pray you, keep a cautious tongue, 
 
 That knows the time for speech and prudent silence. 
 
 The rest I leave to Hermes, who has brought me 
 
 Thus far, and will direct my venturous sword. \_Exeun(. 
 
 Chorus. 
 All-bounteous earth 
 Rears many a monstrous birth 
 Too terrible, too sad for human ear ; 
 And 'mid the depths of land-embracing Sea 
 Lurk myriad forms of hostile fear ; 
 Yea, and 'twixt heaven and earth meteors malign appear : 
 And beast and bird, and wind and storm, can wild and 
 wasteful be. 
 
 But who may scan 
 The all-daring spirit of man 
 And woman, when her heart is petrified ? 
 Who shall express how passion linked to pride 
 Leads from dark lust to hateful crime, 
 And from the female's wrongful sway, madly prevails in 
 
 time 
 O'er married peace and household joys ; and ravins far 
 and wide ? 
 
 Be witness else, whoso is not unwise, 
 What Clotho taught Althaea to devise, 
 Through fire to slay her son ! 
 
228 THE CHOEPHOR(E, [606-635. 
 
 She burnt to its last ash the blackened brand, 
 That tallied with his life, so fate had planned, 
 From his first cry, long as his days should run. 
 
 Hate we next cruel Scylla, that, o'erswayed 
 By Cretan Minos' gift, her sire betrayed ! 
 
 She dipt from Nisus' head 
 The lock of deathless life (since he who brought 
 That gilded snare, bereft her soul of thought). 
 Wretch ; while he slept ! — He joined the shadowy dead. 
 
 What trooping horrors haunt my thoughtful mind ? 
 Home-troubles by the loveless wife designed 
 Against her warrior lord ! 
 Ill-seasoned craft of woman-kind. 
 By loyal hearts abhorred ! 
 Let not woman rule my hearth. 
 But the man of martial worth. 
 Awing subjects with his nod, 
 To his foes — an angry god ! 
 Let not woman's passion rise. 
 Spreading bale-fire from her eyes ! 
 
 What strain of grief out-peers the Lemnian tale. 
 When pity strives o'er terror to prevail ? 
 Men since in every time 
 Telling the last assault of bale. 
 Point to the Lemnian crime. 
 Story thus on story grows 
 To the dark and shameful close : 
 
636-664,] OR LIBATION-BEARERS. 229 
 
 Heaven-condemned, the race of man 
 Withers 'neath the eternal ban. 
 Plants whereon a god hath frowned 
 Live not long to choke the ground. 
 
 The sword of Justice held before the breast 
 Is ready to strike deep : nor gives she rest 
 To such as lightly trample o'er their crime 
 As though its trace must vanish in good time. 
 They scorn her, but her pillars firmly stand : 
 Her blade is forged by Fate's unfailing hand. 
 And the slow Fury, fathomless of heart. 
 Brings to the house her child to do his part. 
 Winning late glory with fresh-bleeding brand. 
 
 The scene changes to before the palace. Enter Orestes. 
 
 Or. Ho there ! Attend this knocking at your gate ! 
 Sirrah ! (knocks.) Again ! Who is at home ? I say ! 
 {Knocks again.) Once more I summon Prince ^gisthus 
 
 forth, 
 If these be not inhospitable halls. 
 
 Porter {within). I hear ! Whence come ye ? Tell. 
 What countrymen ? 
 
 Or. Announce to those who rule this palace-hall, 
 I bring them news significant and strange. 
 And be not slow in this ; for night's dark wain 
 Draws near apace, and travellers prepare 
 To anchor in some hospitable hold. 
 Let some one with authority come forth, 
 Woman if need be, though a man were better. 
 
230 THE CHOEPHORCE, [665-688. 
 
 For bashful converse never can be clear. 
 But man speaks fearlessly to man, and shows 
 Credentials unmistakable and sure. 
 
 Enter Clytemnestra. 
 
 Cly. Sirs, is there aught ye would? Speak then. For 
 we 
 Lack naught befitting such a house as this, 
 Warm bath, nor bed for wearied Umbs,.nor fair 
 Attendance unobtrusive and discreet. 
 But if your business be of graver charge, 
 That is men's duty. They shall hear of it. 
 
 Or. I come to Argos from the Phocian land ; 
 Daulis my native city. As I came. 
 This way directing my self-marshalled route. 
 Carrying no burden but my clothes, a man, 
 An utter stranger to me, crossed my path. 
 Whem he had learnt his way and told me mine 
 (And in this interchange his name came out, 
 Strophius of Phocis), he proceeded thus : 
 " Since Argos is your destination, sir, 
 Bear this in mind, I pray you, without fail. 
 To tell his friends, Orestes is no more. 
 And we would know of them, whether they choose 
 To fetch him home, or in strange land to leave him, 
 Forever aliened and disfranchised. 
 Be thou the bearer of their message back. 
 For as it is, the warrior's calcined bones 
 Well-mourned, are covered in a brazen urn." 
 I give the news I heard {looking hard at Clytemnestra) : 
 but I feel doubtful 
 
689-718.] OR LIBATION-BEARERS. 231 
 
 If I have told them to the proper ear. 
 The dead man's parents first of all should know. 
 Cly. Ah me ! what rum clamours in this news ! 
 
 ill-averted curse upon thiS' house,- 
 
 How like a kite thou hast descried our lamb, 
 How like an archer pierced him from afar, 
 When seeming laid within a peg-cefoil fold- ! 
 Orestes, whom we thought withdrawn from ill. 
 With free foot rescued from the slippery slime. 
 Dies, and bereaves- me in my wretchedness ! 
 One hope remained, to heal the revel-rout 
 Of furies in our hall. You bring it home 
 And, in the act, for ever cancel it. 
 
 Or. So kindly welcomed by such wealthy friends; 
 
 1 could have wished to- earn- my entertainment 
 
 ■ By some glad news ; for courtesy breeds kindness; 
 But still my heart declared 'twere impious, 
 With such affairs in hand, not to complete them 
 For him who asked and you who entertain me. 
 
 Cly. Your worth shall not be poorer in reward, 
 Nor shall you know less friendship in this house. 
 Some other might have carried the same news. 
 Come, 'tis the hour when friends who all day long 
 Have travelled from afar, should have kind shelter. 
 Lead him, and this his fellow-voyager, 
 To the best-furnished men's apartment there. 
 And let them have good tendance. Come, despatch ! 
 Do this, as you shall fear our sharp rebuke ! 
 And we meanwhile shall make this matter known 
 Unto our lord, and with good friends to aid us. 
 Will study how to answer this grave need. \_Exmnt. 
 
232 THE CHOEPHORCE, [719-746. 
 
 Cho. Handmaids of the royal dwelling. 
 
 Is't not time our notes were swelling 
 For Orestes' princely might 
 Entering now the dubious fight ? 
 Hear, O Earth ! O holy hill ! 
 Where the body lieth stiU 
 Of his sire that ruled the fleet, 
 Hear, and send him helpers meet ! 
 Cunning leads his crafty tread 
 (This the hour, the moment dread !) 
 Darkling Hermes' whispered word 
 Guards and guides the fateful sword. 
 
 Enter Nurse. 
 
 It seems the stranger's visit makes some sorrow. 
 For, look, Orestes' nurse comes this way weeping ! 
 Kilissa, what hath drawn thee to the gate 
 With unfeed mourning thus accompanied ? 
 
 Nurse. The queen desired me summon to the hall 
 ^gisthus with all speed, to hear the strangers 
 Speak with men's voice their tidings to a man. 
 Amongst us servants she would not let peer 
 The gladness that was gathering in her eye, 
 But gloomed with sullen brow, though well we knew 
 Her triumph at what ruins all the house, 
 These news the stranger-men have told too clearly. 
 Ay, sure the master's ears will gladden him 
 As he drinks in this word ! O me unhappy ! 
 How many a sorrow in this house of Atreus, 
 Heaped on old woes, hath racked my breast with sobs ! 
 
747-773-] OR LIBATION-BEARERS. 233 
 
 But never yet. felt I a stroke like this. 
 
 The rest I drained, however wofully, 
 
 And found the bottom. But, ah me, Orestes, 
 
 That wore my heart out ! From the womb I took him. 
 
 At that great voice that shook me out of bed. 
 
 And nursed him on and on. How many a time 
 
 Have I had trouble with him, sore, and bootless ! 
 
 The unconscious infant, like a tender calf. 
 
 Must be looked after, mind you ! For it knows not. 
 
 While yet i' the swathing-clouts, to tell its trouble. 
 
 Whether thirst, or hunger, or more clamant need 
 
 O'ercome it. The young belly keeps not hours ! 
 
 A prophet of all this (sometimes a false one 
 
 To mine and swaddling-bands' confusion !) I, 
 
 Washer and dresser both of babe and babe-clothes. 
 
 Was nurse, cook, washerwoman, all in one. 
 
 Plying these various trades, mistress in all, 
 
 I reared Orestes by his father's will. 
 
 And now they tell me he is dead ! Woe's me ! 
 
 And I must go to him who has destroyed 
 
 Our peace ! Ay, gladly will he hear my tale ! 
 
 Cho. With what attendance doth she bid him come ? 
 
 Nurse. How ? Let me understand you. Speak again. 
 
 Cho. I mean whether alone or with his guards. 
 
 Nurse. She bids him bring the spearmen of his train. 
 
 Cho. Take no such message to your hated lord. 
 But leaving majesty and fear behind 
 In his own person bid him come and hear. 
 Go, bear this mandate with a lightsome mind. 
 Wise messengers make good the unspoken word. 
 
234 THE CHOEPHORCE, 1174-799- 
 
 Nurse. But are ye sure ye have reason for such mandate? 
 Cho. What if Zeus turn at last the tide of woe ? 
 Nurse. How can that be ? Orestes was our hope, 
 And he is gone ! \She weeps. 
 
 Cho. Art thou advised of that ? 
 
 A sorry prophet may enUghten thee. 
 
 Nurse. What? Have ye heard some counterblast of 
 
 tidings ? 
 Cho. Speed thou thy message. Do what we enjoin 
 thee, 
 And leave the gods to compass their great will. 
 
 \Exit Nurse. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Father of gods who' hold Olympus' height, 
 
 Grant me this prayer, neither for wealth nor might, 
 
 But for that lot which virtue longs to see ! 
 
 Such word is pure from all iniquity. 
 
 Zeus, the performance waiteth still with thee ! 
 
 But set thou up on high 
 
 Above his- enemy, 
 Him who now moves beneath yon roof-tree's shade. 
 
 If thou wilt make him great, 
 
 And grant him lofiy state, 
 Three and four fold thy gift shall be repaid. 
 
 The orphan of thy friendi 
 Is harnessed to a car of grief and pain : 
 
 Oh that such course might end. 
 And his triumphant tramp resound upon the plain ! 
 
7S0-821.] OR LIBATION-BEARERS. 235 
 
 {To the Household Gods.) 
 
 Ye that around the hearth, 
 
 Far from the touch of dearth, 
 
 One heart of tranquil mirth, 
 Gaze from the wall, 
 
 May that ill deed of yore. 
 
 Find his last meed of gore ! 
 
 Let agfed strife no more 
 Breed in the hall ! 
 {To Apollo.) 
 
 And thou whose Pythian haunt 
 
 Shines fair and lofty, grant 
 Our hero's house may rise with freedom bright. 
 
 Rend thou the darksome veil 
 
 That keeps his glory pale ; 
 Make his dear eyes behold thy glorious light ! 
 (To Hermes.) 
 
 And let fair Maia's boy. 
 
 Helper of all our joy, 
 
 Whom secret wiles employ, 
 Speed this emprise. 
 
 Bring what is hid to light. 
 
 Hiding his act from sight. 
 
 Shrouding by day and night 
 His wary eyes. 
 
 Then we will open to the hearts of all 
 
 The riches that return to bless our hall ; 
 
 Soft breeze, that heralds Spring's glad festival ! 
 
236 THE CHOEPHORCE, [822-852. 
 
 The dead we shall lament with shrilling strain, 
 But that which we lament to me is gain, 
 And frpm my friends removes dark hours of bane. 
 ( To Orestes within^ Thou, when thy time is near, 
 
 Shaking thee loose from fear. 
 Shout o'er the filial deed thy father's name, 
 
 Drowning her cries of " Son " — 
 
 Until a deed is done, 
 Of heartache full, but unalloyed with blame. 
 Taking the heart of Perseus in thy breast, 
 For friends on earth, and those beneath at rest, 
 Work out the indulgence of sad wrath, and win 
 Thy mournful triumph, harbouring grief within, 
 But cutting off the murderers for their sin. 
 
 Enter ^gisthus. 
 
 ^g. I come, for I was called. Strange news, I hear. 
 Is brought us by some foreign friends, not such 
 As one would wish : — Orestes dead ! Again, 
 This house, long gangrened with a rankling wound. 
 Must be new-burdened with blood-dripping death. 
 How shall I trace the lines of truth in this ? 
 How know that women's panic have not painted 
 Some flying figure of a death that vanishes. 
 Dying in rumour only ? Tell me plainly. 
 
 Cho. We heard the rumour. But go in and question 
 Your foreign friends themselves. Report is weak. 
 Compared with face-to-face intelligence. 
 
 ^g. I fain would see and ask the man again. 
 Whether he himself was there, and saw him die. 
 
853-876-]' OR LIBATJON-BEARERS. 237 
 
 Or, speaks on hearsay from a dim report. 
 
 My mind has eyes, and will not soon be hoodwinked. 
 
 \Exit. 
 Cho. Whence shall I begin the strain ? 
 
 How, great Zeus, thy favour gain ? 
 
 How declare my kindly soul 
 
 With a voice of due control ? 
 
 Now the blade distained before 
 
 With our murdered chieftain's gore, 
 
 Brought to trial, shall reveal 
 
 Whether fate the doom would seal 
 
 Of this house for evermore ; 
 
 Or the torch in freedom's name 
 
 For these children shall proclaim 
 
 Proud return to lordly power. 
 
 To their rich paternal dower. 
 
 Orestes in the deadly close. 
 Grapples alone with both his foes : 
 Relying on his single might. 
 May victory lead him to his right ! 
 
 ^g. {within). Oh, oh ! I am slain ! 
 
 Cho. Ha ! Which way goes the battle ? {Another cry.) 
 Ha ! Again ? 
 Withdraw we till the deed is perfected, 
 And let us seem unwitting of this blow. — 
 
 Enter Attendant. 
 
 The strife is now deternjined. Who comes here ? 
 Attendant. Woe, for our master ! All is over ! Woe ! 
 
238 THE CHOEPHORm, [877-900. 
 
 Woe, yet again ! ^gisthus is no more. 
 
 Unbar, unbar the women's gate with speed ! 
 
 Let young men do it ! Weaklings will not serve ! 
 
 Too late for succour any way. He is slain. 
 
 But do it ! ho ! I say ! Bestir, bestir ! 
 
 What ? Is the house asleep ? Dumb walls receive 
 
 My bootless cry ! Where's Clytemnestra ? Where ? 
 
 What doth she, when the edge of righteous doom 
 
 Hovers at hand to crash upon her neck ? 
 
 Enter Clytemnestra. 
 
 Cly. What cry is here ? What dost thou by the gate ? 
 
 Ait. I say, the dead have slain the living there. 
 
 Cly. Ay me ! I read thy riddle ! Oh, undone ! 
 By guile, even as we slew ! Give me an axe, 
 A strong one ; quickly too ! I'll dare the issue, 
 Be it for me or against me. I am come 
 To the utterance in this strife with Fate and Doom. 
 
 \The dead body ^^gisthus is disclosed, Orestes 
 standing by. 
 
 Or. Thee now I seek, ^gisthus hath enough. 
 
 Cly. Oh, thou art dead ! Thy dear, great life is flown ! 
 
 Or. Was he so dear to thee? Then thou shalt lie 
 In the same grave with blameless constancy. 
 
 Cly. O son, forbear ! O child, respect and pity 
 This breast, whereat thou often, soothed to slumber, 
 Drainfedst with baby mouth the bounteous milk ! 
 
 Or. Counsel me, Pylades ! Shall mercy blunt 
 My sword against my mother ? 
 
 Pyl. Where are then 
 
901-924.] OR LIBATION-BEARERS. 239 
 
 Apollo's prophecies of what should be, 
 
 His conjuration and clear oracle ? 
 
 Hate all the world, but be the friend of heaven. 
 
 Or. Thou hast prevailed. Thy wisdom guides me well. 
 Here ! I will slay thee by the man thou lovest ! 
 Thou didst account him better than my sire 
 In life : then in his death thou shalt lie with him, 
 Since here thou hast loved, hating where love was due. 
 
 Cly. I nursed thee : be my comforter in age ! 
 
 Or. How should I live with her who killed my sire ? 
 
 Cly. The Destinies wrought there. My son, my son ! 
 
 Or. Destiny works a different doom to-day. 
 
 Cly. Thy mother's curse ! Doth that not awe thee, 
 boy? 
 
 Or. My mother flung me forth a prey to fortune. 
 
 Cly. I flung thee forth? To a friend's hearth I sent 
 thee. 
 
 Or. You took a twofold price for my free head. 
 
 Cly. Where are the gifts they gave me for you, say ? 
 
 Or. Where is the gift? 'Twere shame to speak this 
 plainly. 
 
 Cly. You say not how your father stept aside. 
 
 Or. Chide not the labourer, while you're housed at 
 home. 
 
 Cly. Know'st thou the pain of a lorn woman, child ? 
 
 Or. I know she thrives by him who toils abroad. 
 
 Cly. Oh ! Wilt thou kill thy mother ? O my son ! ■ 
 
 Or. I kill thee not. Thy sin destroyeth thee. 
 
 Cly. Ha ! 'Ware thy mother's furies. Guard thee well ! 
 
 Or. How 'scape I my sire's furies, if I spare thee ? 
 
240 THE CffOEPffORCE, [925-95'- 
 
 Cly. Like dirges at a grave, my voice is vain. 
 Or. Yea, from his grave my father breathes thy doom. 
 Cly. Ah! 
 I have borne and reared a serpent for my son. 
 Or. Then is fulfilled the terror of thy dream ! 
 
 [Clytemnestra appears to swoon, then rouses 
 herself and looks defiance at Orestes. 
 Or. Thy deed was wrongful, so shall be thy death. 
 
 \They are withdrawn into the palace. 
 Cho. Of this pair also must I mourn the fall. 
 But since the crested wave of boundless blood 
 Buoys up Orestes on its crown, though sadly, 
 I pray this eye o' the house be ne'er put out. 
 
 Even Priam's sons thou didst o'ertake at length, 
 O Nemesis ! thou broughtest down their strength. 
 Now Agamemnon's house hath felt the hand 
 Of one with lion heart and warlike brand. 
 An unrelenting Ares, Heaven hath sent 
 Through Phoebus' oracle with fierce intent. 
 
 Shout ! for our master's house escapeth free 
 
 From heartless vice and wasting luxury. 
 
 Wild courses of that fell usurping pair. 
 
 One came to avenge : dark craft he made his care, 
 
 But in the battle she herself took part, 
 
 Zeus' daughter, seated in the avenger's heart. 
 
 She guided his right arm aright : her name 
 
 We mortals have called Justice. Who shall blame ? 
 
952-977-] OR LIBATION-BEARERS. 241 
 
 She breathes upon her foes destroying wrath. 
 Such issue the Parnassian Lord, that hath 
 His caverned shrine upon the Pythian height, 
 To banish guile brings guilefully to light. 
 
 Long the house hath been oppressed. 
 Now he giveth longed-for rest. 
 Even Almighty power and will 
 Cannot minister to ill. 
 Now to heaven is worship due 
 Since light came and darkness flew. 
 
 Arise, ye domes ! The cruel yoke is past 
 
 Long have ye grovelled. Be yourselves at last. 
 
 No more a slave of servants shall I groan, 
 
 No more these walls shall seem vile heaps of stone ; 
 
 Put on thy glory, mansion ! since the power 
 
 Of Purity shall cleanse thee from this hour. 
 
 Now whate'er of pain or sorrow 
 Waited for a far to-morrow, 
 Flies on leaden wings away. 
 Night is past. Behold the day ! 
 
 Orestes is discovered, with the dead bodies o/JEg. and Cly. 
 
 O7: Behold ye these usurpers of the land ! 
 These twain that slew my sire and spoiled my home ! 
 Then loftily they sate enthroned, and now 
 They still are friends, if one may judge of them 
 By what appears. They have kept their oath and pledge. 
 
242 THE CHOEPHORCE, [978-1006. 
 
 Were they not sworn to slay my sire, and die 
 
 Together ? See how well they keep their word ! 
 
 See also, ye whose ears attest this act, 
 
 This fell contrivance for my sire's defeat, 
 
 How hands and heels were fettered and conjoined ! 
 
 Ho ! stretch it forth and stand around, and show 
 
 This man-inveigler, that the sire may see ; 
 
 I mean not mine, but yonder Sun, whose eye 
 
 Surveys the world ; — show him my mother's crime ! 
 
 That some day he may witness in my cause, 
 
 And prove my right thus to have slain my mother. 
 
 ^gisthus counts for nothing. He but pays 
 
 The adulterer's forfeit, as the custom holds. 
 
 But she, that could contrive this horrid end 
 
 For him whose seed she had borne beneath her zone, 
 
 Burden once dear, though hostile now 'tis proved 
 
 And bitter,— how appears she to your thoughts? 
 
 Deem ye the touch of asp or basilisk 
 
 More certain to destroy and putrify, 
 
 Yea though she bit not, than her venomous will ? — 
 
 How shall I name this with a blameless tongue ? 
 
 Beast's pitfall ? or the footcloth for a corpse ? 
 
 Or bather's awning ? Nay, a hunting net, 
 
 No garment, but the limbs' entanglement. 
 
 A thief might throw such vesture o'er his prey, 
 
 To rob beguiled travellers on their way : 
 
 With this, much gold by murder might he win. 
 
 Heating his heart with perilous fires of sin. 
 
 Ere I possess such raiment in my hall. 
 
 Heaven-blighted, lorn of issue, let me fall ! 
 
1007-1032.] OR LIBATION-BEARERS. 243 
 
 Cho. Out, alas, dark deed of crime ! 
 
 Foul and hideous was thy death. 
 Woe for all the wrongs of Time ! 
 
 Sorrow is theirs, who still have breath. 
 
 Or. Say, guilty or not guilty ? Here, behold ! 
 This cloth bears witness how ^gisthus' sword 
 Plunged deep ! The stains, agreeing with the years. 
 Mar all the pattern with their pallid hue. 
 Gazing on this, I feel my father's worth, 
 I wail his death, as I were there to see. 
 And this vile web awakes my heart to mourn 
 For all things done and suffered by our race 
 From its first hour to this dire victory. 
 
 Cho. None that dwelleth upon earth 
 
 Liveth free from grief and fear. 
 Grief is past and grief hath birth. 
 One is now and one is near. 
 
 Or. Hear me declare : — How this will end I know not. 
 I feel the chariot of my spirit borne 
 Far wide. My soul, like an ill-managed courser. 
 Is carrying me away, while my poor heart 
 To her own music dances in wild fear. 
 Then, while I am still myself, hear me declare : — 
 Friends, it was right my mother should be slain ; 
 Else had my father's death defiled your land. 
 Her life was an offence to heaven ! And I 
 Was drawn to do it by one power alone, 
 — That I proclaim, — Phcebus, the Pythian Seer, 
 Saying, if I did it I should bear no blame, 
 But if I did it not, the punishment 
 
244 THE CHOEPHORCE, [1033-1058. 
 
 Was more than I can speak of, — far beyond 
 A human archer's flight to o'ertake that woe ! 
 And now, behold, I go to find his seat, 
 Armed with thjs olive-branch and tuft of wool, 
 To earth's mid-navel, Phcebus' dwelling-place, 
 And the bright flame, pronounced imperishable, 
 For refuge from this heart-offending blood. 
 He charged me not to seek another shrine. 
 The hour will come when all this Argive folk 
 AVill be my witness — Menelaus too, — 
 This evil was predestined and unblamed. 
 I wander forth again an outlawed exile : 
 But this my declaration will remain 
 To clear Orestes, whether he live or die. 
 
 Cho. Nay, nay, thy deed was good : yoke not thy tongue 
 To evil auspice and foreboding drear. 
 All Argos' people hold their liberties 
 Of thee, who hast cloven the twofold dragon's neck. 
 
 Or. Ah ! ah ! 
 What grisly troop come yonder in grey robes, 
 With Gorgon-faces and thick serpent-hair 
 Twisted in writhing coils ? I must be gone. 
 
 Cho. Best of all sons unto thy sire, what fancies 
 Dizzy thy brain ? Be constant. Calm thy fear. 
 
 Or. This is no fancy, but a present woe. 
 I see my mother's Furies clearly there ! 
 
 Cho. The blood is yet but recent on thy hand. 
 Hence this confusion of thy heart and brain. 
 
 Or. O Lord Apollo ! There ! What multitudes ! 
 Their eyes drop down with hate and loveless blood. 
 
IOS9-1076.] OR LIBATION-BEARERS. 245 
 
 Cho. Yet there is peace for thee. Apollo's hand 
 Shall free thy life from this assault of woe. 
 
 Or. Ye do not see them ; but I see them well. 
 They are on me ! They pursue me forth. I go. \Exit. 
 
 Cho. May peace attend thy path, and some kind power 
 O'erlook and guard thee in a prosperous way 1 
 
 Three storms have spent their strength against these 
 
 walls. 
 The third is over. First in yonder halls 
 Came death of children and a feast abhorred, 
 Then that foul murder of our kingly lord. 
 — The leader of the Achsean host was held 
 Within the bath : there, without mercy, felled. — ■ 
 Now thirdly comes, a saviour, shall I say, 
 Or crowning sorrow ? Whither will the sway 
 Of fate lead forth the issue ? Where shall cease 
 Dread Atfe's fury ? When be lulled to peace ? 
 
THE EUMENIDES. 
 
 PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. 
 
 The Pythoness. 
 
 Chorus of Erinnyes, or Furies. 
 
 Athena. 
 
 Ghost ^Clytemnestea. 
 
 Apollo. 
 
 Orestes. 
 
 Council of the Areopagus. 
 
 Attendant Maidens. 
 
 The Scene is laid, at first, before the adytum (or inmost shrine) of 
 Apollo at Delphi ; afterwards on the hill of the Acropolis at Athens. 
 
 The Time of the Opening Scene is shortly after the death of 
 Clytemnestra. Then an interval of months or years is supposed 
 to elapse. 
 
Orestes has arrived at his destination, the temple of Apollo at 
 Delphi (Choeph. 1032 ff.) pursued bythe Erinnyes. He is clinging 
 to the tripod there, and they have fallen asleep. This scene is 
 disclosed after the prologue, in which the Pythian priestess describes 
 the unexpected sight, and her terror on beholding it. 
 
 Apollo himself then appears, and assures Orestes of his protection, 
 but bids him proceed to Athens for Athena's judgment. He departs 
 and the Erinnyes remain. But Clytemnestra's ghost arrives and 
 rouses them. They sing their wild prelude, after which they are 
 driven forth by Apollo. 
 
 The scene is changed to Athens, where Orestes makes his suppli- 
 cation to Athena. The Erinnyes enter, and, after a brief altercation, 
 sing over him their "binding hymn." 
 
 Athena now comes in person and finds Orestes clinging to her 
 image, with the Erinnyes round him. She challenges these strange 
 intruders ; they declare their office, and the goddess obtains from 
 Orestes an account of himself. Weighing the gravity of the cause, 
 Athena makes known her purpose of instituting her Council of the 
 Areopagus. While the Elders are assembling, the Erinnyes indicate 
 their mission to mankind. 
 
 Silence is proclaimed by order of lAthena ; and, as the first 
 witness, Apollo comes in. He not only gives evidence, but pleads 
 in favour of Orestes that the son is bound to his father but not to 
 his mother. 
 
 Both sides having been heard, the Elders cast their votes into 
 the two urns. Athena gives her vote openly, declaring that should 
 the Court be equally divided, her voice will determine the case 
 for acquittal. She has no mother, and her sympathies are on the 
 father's side. A moment of suspense follows, while the votes are 
 counted. They prove to be equal on both sides, and Orestes is ac- 
 cordingly acquitted. He proclaims an indefeasible alliance between 
 Argos and Athens. The Erinnyes give vent to their indignation at 
 being overborne by "younger gods." But their chagrin is at last 
 softened by the promises and the persuasive eloquence of Athena. 
 They consent to remain in Athens, not to curse but to bless the 
 people, so long as household purity and equitable dealings are duly 
 observed. A dwelling is appointed for them in a cave beneath the 
 Hill of Ares, and to this they are conducted by their appointed 
 female guides in a solemn procession, with which the play (and the 
 whole trilogy) concludes. 
 
THE EUMENIDES. 
 
 The Pythoness is discovered. 
 Pyth. First in my prayer I sanctify the power 
 Of Earth, first prophetess ; and then of her, 
 Themis, who next upon her mother's throne 
 Of divination sate, as legends tell. 
 Third came and by consent was stablished here 
 Another Titan daughter of the ground, 
 Phoebfe, who gave, in honour of his birth. 
 This place to Phoebus, near to her in name. 
 He left the Delian reef and the broad sea, 
 Landed on Pallas' ship-receiving shore. 
 And sought these pastures, 'neath Parnassus' height, 
 Led by Hephaestus' sons, his worshippers, 
 Good pioneers who make rough countries smooth. 
 This people,' at his coming, and their king, 
 Delphos, sage pilot of the land, enriched him 
 With reverent offerings, while Zeus inspired 
 His heart with wisdom, and established him 
 Fourth holder of this high prophetic seat. 
 Here Phcebus dwells, his Sire's interpreter. 
 
250 THE EUMENIDES. [20-46. 
 
 These names I make the prelude of my prayer. 
 Then, praising Pallas of the vestibule, 
 And the fair nymphs, where the Corycian cave. 
 Beloved of birds, owns presence more divine. 
 Nor yet forgetting him, who haunts this land 
 Since, leading forth his Bacchanals to war, 
 He hunted Pentheus like a hare ; — once more, 
 Naming the springs of Pleistos and the strong 
 Poseidon, and the absolute perfectness 
 Of Zeus, I mount to my prophetic throne. 
 May all these powers now crown mine entrance here 
 With best acceptance ! If the worshippers 
 Be Greeks, let them casts lots, and so come in. 
 Keeping the ordinance. For I give forth 
 My oracles, even as the god shall lead. 
 
 \She enters the " adytum " ; and presently covies 
 forth again. 
 Dreadful to tell of, dreadful to behold, 
 Is that which drives me back from Phoebus' shrine. 
 It saps my vigour, and unnerves my knees. 
 That hands for feet must prop my tottering gait. 
 A frightened crone is nothing, a mere babe. 
 
 I came within the laurel-mantled cell. 
 Where kneeling at Earth's navel I behold 
 A man red-handed, with blood-dabbled blade. 
 And branch of olive from the topmost bough. 
 Wound modestly in suppliant-wise with wool 
 (To tell it plainly) copious, white and pure. 
 But seated there before him were a troop 
 Of women, shall I say ? A wondrous band,. 
 
47-73-] THE EUMENIDES. 251 
 
 Not women, nay but Gorgons. No, the type 
 Is different. I beheld the Gorgons once 
 Painted as robbing Phineus of his food. 
 These have no wings, and they are dark of hue 
 And altogether hideous, breathing out 
 Their snorting breath in gusts not to be borne. 
 Distilling from their eyelids drops of hate. 
 Nor is their garb befitting to come near 
 Man's dwelling, much less heavenly tabernacles. 
 I have seen no race that harbours such a breed, 
 Nor know I what strange land that gendered them 
 Vaunts to have reared them without after-woe. 
 Let mighty Phoebus for his own behoof 
 Look to what follows. He is master here. 
 Who with high vision and all-potent charms 
 Purges all mansions. Let him purge his own. 
 
 The adytum is opened. Orestes and the Furies are 
 discovered. Apollo appears. 
 
 Apollo (to Or.). I will ne'er forsake thee. I, thy con- 
 stant guard. 
 Near thee or far, seen or invisible. 
 Will still be keenly hostile to thy foes. 
 Even now thou see'st these Furies overta'en. 
 Their madness lost in sleep — maidens abhorred, 
 Agfed, but ever crude, whom none that lives, 
 Man, God, or beast, e'er met in fellowship. 
 To evil they were born, evil the gloom 
 Of Tartarus their haunt beneath the ground, 
 And hated both of men and gods in Heaven 
 
252 THE EUMENWES.. [74-100. 
 
 The power they exercise. Yet fly thou still 
 
 Unflaggingly, for they will drive thee far 
 
 Over wide continents with wandering foot, 
 
 And o'er the deep by many an island town. 
 
 Weary not thou of tending this hard toil, 
 
 Till thou be come to Pallas' city, and there 
 
 Kneel, clinging to her image with thine arm. 
 
 There, pleading this thy cause with eloquent words 
 
 To righteous judges, we will find a way 
 
 To clear thee and release thee from thy load. 
 
 'Twas I that counselled thee to kill thy mother. 
 
 Orestes. Apollo, thou art righteous : yet take heed ; 
 Knowing the right, be unremitting, too. 
 Thy strength for all good deeds is well-assured. 
 
 Ap. Remember, let not terror quell thy heart. 
 And thou, my brother of one blood with me, 
 Hermes, protect him, to thy title true ; — 
 Shepherd of souls, lead this my suppliant, 
 Where under thy blest guidance, outlawed wights 
 Have warrant from the Highest of zealous care. 
 
 [Apollo is withdrawn. Exit Orestes. 
 
 Clytemnestra's Ghost appears. 
 
 Cly. Soho ! 
 Sleep on ! — What gain I from your slumbering ? 
 Save that amongst my neighbours of the dead, 
 Thus foiled by you, still taunted with my deed, 
 I wander in disgrace. Be ware thereof! 
 They hold me guilty. Yet for me, who suffered 
 That cruel death at hand of mine own offspring. 
 
IOI-I28.] 7'HE EUMENIDES. 253 
 
 No vengeance-wreaking power stands up in wrath. 
 
 Behold, I say, this matricidal wound ! 
 
 See it with thy spirit ; for the soul in slumber 
 
 Hath oft-times clearer vision. By daylight 
 
 Our best foreseeings are but narrow and dim. 
 
 Much wealth of mine ye have glutted, drink-offerings, 
 
 Unmixed with wine, tempered to soothe your heart, 
 
 And feasts of burnt-ofiering at dead of night. 
 
 That hour of dread, avoided by all gods. 
 
 Now those my gifts are trampled under foot, 
 
 And he is gone escaping like a fawn, 
 
 Springing with ease out of your midmost net. 
 
 With eyes of triumph o'er your impotence. 
 
 Hear this appeal : consider, O ye powers 
 
 Of nether gloom ! Touching my soul I speak, 
 
 I, Clytemnestra, now a shadowy dream. 
 
 Cho. Ngrr! 
 
 Cly. Snore ye ? But he is gone, fled forward far. 
 My son hath his abettors — I have none. 
 
 Cho. Ngrr! 
 
 Cly. Too deep thy slumber. Where is thy com- 
 passion ? 
 His mother's murderer, Orestes, flies. 
 
 Cho. Oh! 
 
 Cly. " Oh ! " say'st thou ? Still asleep ! Arise with 
 speed. 
 When hast thou managed aught save plots of bane ? 
 
 Cho. Oh! 
 
 Cly. Sleep and fatigue, confirmed conspirators, 
 Have undermined the dreaded monster's might. 
 
254 THE EUMENWES. [129-151- 
 
 Cho. Ngrgr ! {waking). 
 Take hold ! take hold ! take hold ! take hold. Be 
 ware ! 
 
 Cly. In dreams you hunt your prey, and like a hound 
 That broods upon the chase unceasingly, 
 Whimper. For shame ! Rise, yield not to fatigue, 
 Nor let soft slumber dull the sense of wrong. 
 Smart inwardly beneath my just rebuke. 
 Reproof to honest hearts is like a goad. 
 Follow him forth, renewing your pursuit. 
 And let the fell wind of your gory breath. 
 Hot vapour from the furnace of your hate. 
 Strike full upon his wildly drifting bark, 
 To shrivel, blast, consume and wither him. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Awake ! Waken thou her, as I wake thee ! 
 
 Wilt thou yet sleep ? Arise, and, spurning slumber. 
 
 Prove we our prelude, whether it be of power. 
 
 Ugh ! They have done us wrong. Friends, o'er and 
 
 o'er 
 We are wronged without redress. Most grievous woe, 
 Ugh ! is our lot, an ill not to be borne. 
 The net is void, the quarry vanished forth ! 
 Vanquished by slumber I have lost my prey ! 
 
 Robber of rights art thou, son of the highest ! 
 Thy youth has trampled down our ancient power, 
 All for thy suppliant's cause, a man forbid, 
 
iS2-l8i.] THE EUMENIDES. 255 
 
 Godless, abhorred, the ruthless matricide. 
 
 A god, thou hast stolen away the abominable. 
 
 The blood-accursed. Shalt thou be cleared for this ? 
 
 What dreams were mine ! Reproach, a charioteer. 
 With piercing goad held javelin-wise, hath smitten 
 Beneath my heart upon a vital spot. 
 Like the executioner's hated scourge it stings 
 With deep-inflicted inly shuddering wound. 
 
 Such deeds this younger brood of gods will do, 
 Swaying all things by main force beyond the right. 
 One sheet of gore, mantled from base to cope. 
 Earth's midmost shrine is visibly beheld 
 Self-cloked with horror-breathing guilt of blood. 
 
 O prophet-god, thou hast stained thine own hearthstone, 
 From thine own mind, moved by no just appeal, 
 Breaking the law of gods to honour man, 
 Threatening to quell Fate's everlasting reign. 
 
 My heart thou hast vexed and shalt not free his soul ; 
 Yea, though he lurk in hell, he is forfeit still. 
 This refuge but redoubles the offence 
 That dogs him to dire ruin unredeemed. 
 
 Ap. ire-appearing) Begone, I bid you, forth of mine 
 abode ! 
 Speed your departure from my mystic cell ; 
 Lest, overta'en by the winged glistering snake. 
 
256 THE EUMENIDES. [182-208. 
 
 Steel-fanged, that darts from this all-golden bow, 
 
 Ye emit dark flesh-froth in your agony, 
 
 Vomit of heart's blood ye have drained from men. 
 
 Profane not with your presence this fair shrine ; 
 
 But go where headsmen execute the doom, 
 
 Where eyes are gouged, throats gashed, where robbed of 
 
 prime 
 Boys lose all hope of offspring, tender limbs 
 Are hacked or stoned ; where men, impaled alive, 
 Moan long and bitterly. Hear ye what feast 
 Hath charms for you, ye god-abominated ? 
 Your every lineament declares it. Go, 
 Inhabit, as beseems such forms, the den 
 Of some blood-lapping lion, nor infect 
 With touch accursed my oracular seat. 
 Go, herded by no goat-herd, ye fell flock. 
 Hated of all in Heaven. Away, depart ! 
 
 Cho. Sovereign Apollo, hear but our reply : 
 Thou of this outrage not the accomplice art. 
 But author and sole agent, guilty of all. 
 
 Ap. How is that certified ? Speak so far forth. 
 
 Cho. Your oracle prevailed with this your guest, 
 That he should kill his mother. 
 
 Ap. I declared 
 
 (How should I not ?) that he should right his sire. 
 
 Cho. Thou wert the abettor of unheard-of guilt. 
 
 Ap. I bade him crave atonement at this shrine. 
 
 Cho. And now he comes, blame you his escort here ? 
 
 Ap. As unbefitting to approach my doors. 
 
 Cho. 'Tis our appointed office. 
 
209-234.] THE EUMENWES. 257 
 
 Ap. How ? Make known 
 
 Your glorious privilege. 
 
 Cho. To dog the steps 
 
 Of matricides and drive them far from home. 
 
 Ap. And what of husband-slaying wives ? 
 
 Cho. That blood 
 
 Bears not the blame of kindred violence. 
 
 Ap. Far then from honour and of small account 
 Ye rate the pledge great Hera gave to Zeus, 
 And rob of all regard the Queen of Love 
 From whom fresh springs of sweetest concord flow. 
 Since fate-appointed wedlock well observed 
 'Twixt man and wife is mightier than an oath. 
 Now, if one slay the other and no wrath 
 From thee arise, no watchful recompense, 
 Unfairly dost thou chase Orestes forth. 
 One crime thou weighest full heavily, and one 
 The world may see thee taking quietly, 
 Howbeit, this cause Athena shall review. 
 
 Cho. I'll ne'er relinquish him ; believe it not. 
 
 Ap. Pursue him then, and make thy labour more. 
 
 Cho. Disparage not my rights in thy discourse. 
 
 Ap. I care not for thy rights. 
 
 Cho. Thou hast thine own. 
 
 Nearest the throne supreme, so rumour saith. 
 Meanwhile, drawn by the scent of mother's blood, 
 I'll prosecute this quarry and hunt him down. 
 
 Ap. And I'll protect my suppliant with my power. 
 For should I willingly forsake his cause,. 
 His wrath in Heaven and earth were full of dread. 
 
 s 
 
as8 THE EUMENIDES. [23S-2S5- 
 
 The scene is changed' to the Athenian Acropolis. A long 
 time is supposed to have intervened. 
 
 Orestes. 
 
 Sovereign Athena, sped by Phoebus' word 
 I am come. Do thou with clemency receive 
 The outcast, — not red-handed, nor unpurged, 
 But mellowed by long time, and travel-worn 
 Among new households, alien ways, o'er land 
 And beyond sea, keeping the oracular charge 
 Of Phoebus, in obedience to whose will 
 I come, dread goddess, to thy sanctuary; 
 Now, clinging to thy holy image here, 
 I bide the issue of the arbitrament 
 
 Chorus (entering). 
 
 So ! 'Tis his trail beyond a doubt. Pursue 
 The voiceless guide's direction. Like a hound 
 Tracking the blood-marks of a wounded fawn, 
 I quest and follow where the gore-drops lie. 
 
 My breast heaves inwardly and pants with toil 
 
 Of mankind-quelling travail. The whole earth 
 
 I have ranged in shepherding my quarry, and flown 
 
 Wingless over the deep pursuing him, 
 
 No ship more swiftly. Now he is hereabout, 
 
 Not far, close-crouched, as on her form the hare. 
 
 My spirit smiles : blood smell I, human blood. 
 Spy all around again, lest he be gone, 
 
256-282.] THE EUMENIDES. 259 
 
 Lest he be flown unwares, scathless of us, 
 
 Stained with a mother's death, stolen from our view. 
 
 Nay, but again he hath found protection here : 
 Hugging the image of the undying maid, 
 He sues her arbitration for his crime. 
 
 Avails him nought ; the mother's blood, ah woe ! 
 Once poured upon the ground, is past recall. 
 
 Thou from thy living limbs shalt yield in turn 
 Red pulp of thy fair flesh to be devoured 
 By me. I will nourish me with the strange draught 
 Pressed from the vintage of thy youth. I will drain 
 And drag thee down where thou shalt pay with pangs 
 Thy mother's death-throes. There shalt thou behold 
 Whoever else hath sinned of mortal men. 
 And dealt unrighteously with impious heart 
 Toward god or stranger or dear mother or sire, — 
 Each overwhelmed with his due meed of doom. 
 For Hades holds his audit there beneath. 
 And leaves naught blank in that dire register. 
 Or. Taught wisdom in the school of misery 
 I am learned in all atonement, and have skill 
 To hold my peace or speak in season due. 
 But in this day's affair I am authorised 
 Under high bidding to speak forth. The stains 
 Of slaughter on my hands are dulled and pale. 
 The guilt of matricide is washed away. 
 For, while yet recent, at Apollo's hearth 
 
26o THE EVMENIDES. [283-310. 
 
 'Twas purged and done away with death of swine. 
 
 And tedious were the number to tell o'er 
 
 Of men I have communed with and brought no harm : 
 
 All-mellowing Time makes old defilement pure. 
 
 Now with clean lips void of offence I call 
 
 Athena, sovereign of this land, to come 
 
 And be mine aid : in recompense whereof 
 
 Myself, my country, and our Argive men 
 
 Shall, without conquest, be for evermore 
 
 Her faithful firm allies. Whether she move 
 
 Within the region of the Libyan land 
 
 By the Tritonian waters of her birth. 
 
 Or sit enthroned there, aiding whom she loves. 
 
 Or whether, a bold manlike marshaller, 
 
 She sway the armies of Phlegrsean fields, 
 
 May she come hither — for a god can hear 
 
 Though far away — and loose me from my load. 
 
 Cho. Think not Apollo nor Athena's might 
 Shall rescue thee from wandering all forlorn 
 On paths of ruin, never tasting joy. 
 Sapless, the dwindling food of wrathful powers. 
 Answerest thou not, but scornest all I speak, 
 Thou, stalled and consecrate for my behoof? 
 I'll eat thee alive ere thou be sacrificed. 
 Hark to the song that shall enthrall thy soul ! 
 
 \The Chorus range themselves in the Orchestra. 
 
 Come knit we our ranks in the dance, for my heart now 
 
 is bent to declare 
 The spirit of horror that moves us, the rights over men, 
 
 and the care 
 
3"-333J THE EUMENIDES. 261 
 
 That our company wieldeth. Our judgment we ever- 
 more hold to be just. 
 
 No wrath from us creeps toward the wight who shows 
 hands free from murder and lust ; 
 
 He shall live all his days far from evil. No harm shall 
 the righteous betide. 
 
 But when one hath sinned like this man, and his bloody 
 transgression would hide, 
 
 We appear for the dead, and our witness, that swerves 
 not in aught from the truth, 
 
 O'ertakes the blood-guilty with ruin, and shatters his life 
 without ruth. . 
 
 Mother, who gave me birth, — O mother Night ! — 
 For chastisement of souls that dwell in light 
 And darkness, hear my grief! Latona's child 
 Robs me of honour, — ^he would wrest away 
 
 This cowering prey, 
 My victim, with a mother's death defiled ; 
 
 To plague whose head 
 
 Discomforted, 
 
 We sing this strain. 
 
 The spirit's chain, 
 
 Dazing all reason dim, 
 
 The Furies' binding hymn, 
 
 Enlivened with no lyre, 
 
 Setting the heart on fire, 
 
 To mortal men a bane. 
 Ranking them with the dead. 
 
262 THE EUMENIDES. C334-357 
 
 Eternal Fate decreed for me this lot 
 
 Unchangeably, deep in my life inwrought, 
 
 To follow close on him of mortal mould 
 
 Who hath slain his kin. I track him to his doom 
 
 Beyond the tomb, 
 Nor is he free from guilt though dead and cold : 
 
 To plague whose head 
 
 Discomforted, 
 
 We sing this strain, 
 
 The spirit's chain. 
 
 Dazing all reason dim, 
 
 The Furies' binding hymn. 
 
 Enlivened with no lyre. 
 
 Setting the heart on fire, 
 
 To mortal men a bane. 
 Ranking them with the dead. 
 
 This destined power attends me from my birth 
 
 O'er habitants of Earth, 
 But no immortal answereth at my call, 
 
 Nor shares my festival : 
 
 Their milk-white garb to wear 
 
 I neither hope nor care. 
 
 But when domestic strife 
 
 Hath taken a kindred life. 
 
 To plague that head 
 
 Discomforted, 
 
 We keenly race 
 
 In eager chase : 
 And, mighty though he be, 
 
358-376] THE EUMMNWES. 263 
 
 We make him pine and dree 
 Blood strangely shed. 
 
 But from all else we would forfend this care, 
 
 Nor let immortals share 
 The burden of dread rites addressed to me. 
 
 Beyond- appeal are we. 
 
 Since from his council-board 
 
 Zeus bans this brood abhorred, 
 
 And hates us, dripping o'er 
 
 With recompensing gore — 
 
 When on the head 
 
 Discomforted 
 
 We bring with might 
 
 And wild affright 
 Our bounding tread. 
 
 With tireless feet 
 
 Quelling the fleet, — 
 
 Whom none shall save ; 
 
 Daunting the brave 
 With cureless dread. 
 
 Imaginations high 
 And flaunting to the sky. 
 Diminished, fade and shrink. 
 And down to darkness sink 
 At our soul-withering glance 
 And our dark-vestured dance 
 
z64 THE EUMENIDES. [377-399- 
 
 His mind with madness fraught 
 He falls, but knows it not, 
 Such overshadowing ban 
 Hovers to blind the man, 
 While rumour all around 
 Of darkness doth resound. 
 
 Lament it how ye may, the darkness broods 
 And lingers. Not for us are changeful moods 
 Or futile purposes. Our thoughts endure. 
 Inexorable are we, severe and sure. 
 Dread, though dishonoured and cut off from Day 
 Aloof from all the gods we hold our way 
 On paths of horror, rough with fell Despair ; 
 Men seeing and blind alike shall stumble there. 
 
 Who then can listen without trembling awe 
 When we proclaim our fate-entrusted law. 
 Which Gods allow and ratify ? My power, 
 Mine from of old, is mine unto this hour ; 
 In primal darkness once for all 'twas given, 
 Before the natal hour of Earth and Heaven, 
 Though under-ground be mine appointed home 
 Where Helios' genial rays may never come. 
 
 Athena appears. 
 
 Athena. I heard your shout of summons from afar, 
 Where by Scamander I was purposing 
 To take possession of the soil which erst 
 The Achaean leaders, foremost of their race. 
 
400-426.] THE EUMENIDES. 265 
 
 Gave, as my portion of the spoils of war, 
 
 In freehold indefeasible and sure, 
 
 A glorious meed for Theseus' progeny. 
 
 Thence I have travelled without weariness 
 
 Yoking to this my car the all-perfect steeds, 
 
 Wingless, with segis flapping on the wind. 
 
 Your presence, unfamiliar to my land, 
 
 Daunts me no whit, yet with strange looks I greet you. 
 
 Who and what are ye ? To all here I speak. 
 
 Both to this stranger kneeling by my shrine, 
 
 And you, like unto none begotten or born, 
 
 Seen not of gods amongst the goddesses. 
 
 Nor comparable to mortal semblances. 
 
 More say I not. 'Twere far from equity 
 
 To speak harsh judgments without matter of blame. 
 
 Cho. Daughter of Zeus, thou shalt hear all in brief 
 We are gloom-diffusing children of dark night ; 
 Called "Weird ones " in our home beneath the ground. 
 
 Ath. That name and parentage I know full well. 
 
 Cho. My rights and attributes thou art now to learn. 
 
 Ath. I shall not fail, so they be clearly told. 
 
 Cho. I hunt the homicide from home. 
 
 Ath. And where 
 
 Ends for the man-slayer his flight ? 
 
 Cho. Where joy 
 
 Hath no abiding-place. 
 
 Ath. 'Gainst him now here 
 
 Doth thy harsh voice proclaim such banishment ? 
 
 Cho. Since he hath chosen to be his mother's slayer. 
 
 Ath. And was that choice without compulsive dread ? 
 
266 THE EUMENIDES. [427-451. 
 
 Cho. Whose wrath so terrible that could enforce 
 A parent's slaughter ? 
 
 Ath. I have heard one sidcj 
 
 Two being in presence. 
 
 Cho. But the accused is one 
 
 Incompetent to swear, a perjured soul. 
 
 Ath. Ye love the name of righteous, I perceive, 
 More than true righteousness. 
 
 Cho. How ? Let me hear. 
 
 Thou art opulent in wisdom. 
 
 Ath. Care not thou 
 
 For wrongful victory won through an oath. 
 
 Cho. Question him, then, and judge the cause aright. 
 
 Ath. Consent ye, my decision shall be law ? 
 
 Cho. Yea, bending to thy worth and parentage. 
 
 Ath. Stranger, make answer in thy turn. Declare, 
 First, thy descent, thy country, thy distress, 
 Then, thy defence against the charge preferred ; 
 If in reliance on just right thou art here 
 Grasping mine image, watching by my shrine, 
 Ixion-like, in formal suppliant guise. 
 To these demands speak plainly thy reply. 
 
 Or. Sovereign Athena, let me first remove 
 From thy last words a weight of anxious care. 
 Suppliant, but not red-handed, I kneel here 
 Beside thine image, staining not thy shrine. 
 Hereof I bring assurance unreproved. 
 No shedder of blood may ope his lips, till one 
 Endued with power to cleanse hath sprinkled him 
 With sacrifice of sucklings. Long ago 
 
4S2-477-] THE EUMENIDES. 267 
 
 In other fanes that rite hath passed on me, 
 
 And streams of living water furthermore. 
 
 My cause being cleared from that presumptive blot, 
 
 I'll tell thee my descent. An Argive I, 
 
 Whose father well thou knowest, lord of the fleet, 
 
 With whose firm aid thou madest Ilion, 
 
 The city of Troy, no city. He is deadj 
 
 Foiled in his home-return, cruelly slain 
 
 By my black-hearted, mother, whose deep guile 
 
 Encased his body with a cunning snare 
 
 That from the bath gave witness of his blood. 
 
 I, being an exile all my youth, came home 
 
 And slew my mother, I avouch it here. 
 
 Wreaking on her my dearest father's death. 
 
 Which guilt, if guilt there be, is amply shared 
 
 By Phosbus, who denounced upon my life 
 
 Heart-piercing agonies in recompense. 
 
 Should I not thus requite the wrong-doer. 
 
 Howbeit, the judgment rests with thee alone. 
 
 Howe'er it fall, I will accept thy doom. 
 
 Ath. Too hard for human judgment is this case, 
 Should mortal undertake it. Yea for me 
 To give decision in a wrathful suit 
 For homicide, were to exceed my right. 
 Moreover, — thou art come unto my town 
 Not unaneled, — a harmless suppliant. 
 And cleansed ; — ^yet, ere thou art called my citizen, 
 I would have thee clear from every shadow of blame. 
 Now these, where they have power, not easily 
 May be dismissed, but if they compass not 
 
268 THE EUMENIDES. [478-498. 
 
 The victory they crave, their venomed will 
 
 Falls on the land for evil in time to come. 
 
 So stands the business, troublous every way ; 
 
 Alike disastrous and impossible 
 
 For me, to let them bide, to ban them forth. 
 
 Howbeit, since the affair hath lighted here. 
 
 The court I now appoint for trial of blood, 
 
 —Men reverencing the sanction of their oath, — 
 
 Shall live in ordinance for evermore. 
 
 Produce your witness, let your proofs be called 
 
 In oath-bound aid to fortify your right. 
 
 While I cull forth from holy Athens here 
 
 My citizens of noblest note, to give 
 
 On this great plea their true arbitrament 
 
 With righteous thoughts, not swerving from their oath. 
 
 \^Exit Athena. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Now the rash-brained spirit of change 
 Stirs confusion rude and strange, 
 If our suit to-day must fail 
 
 And the crime and the cause 
 Of this breaker of holiest laws 
 Shall be suffered henceforth to prevail. 
 Rendered reckless by this deed, 
 In transgression all agreed 
 Mortals shall unite for crime, 
 
 And the manifest blow 
 From a child, laying reverence low. 
 Shall abound in the on-coming time. 
 
499-524-] THE EUMENIDES. 269 
 
 For the mother or the sire 
 
 Shall in agonies expire, 
 
 While our wrath doth silent lie. 
 
 Our watchings are o'er, 
 And our madness shall vex them no more. 
 Let them die one and all, let them die ! 
 From his fellow each shall hear. 
 Telling of a neighbour's bier, 
 " Pangs of conscience now have end ; " 
 
 The poor wight in despair 
 Cries for help to the wandering air. 
 Not a soul shall reply, none attend. 
 
 Let not stricken men make moan 
 
 To Justice or the Furies' throne ! 
 That appeal may often rise 
 
 From some poor father as he dies 
 Or the mother ere she's slain ; 
 But they utter it in vain. 
 None shall heed the voice that calls, 
 For the frame of Justice falls. 
 Somewhere, Awe must have his seat 
 
 And Wisdom find secure retreat. 
 Since 'tis good beneath the stress 
 
 Of terror to learn humbleness. 
 Who that in his inmost thought 
 Of heart-trembling harbours nought — 
 Man or state — shall give to light 
 Equal reverence for the right ? 
 
270 THE EUMENIDES. CszS-SSc 
 
 Approve not thou the lawless life 
 
 Nor that which tyrants hold in fee, 
 The mean in everything with strength is rife 
 
 By Heaven's supreme decree. 
 Much else is divers in His government : 
 
 This stands harmonious still and strong ; 
 Rebellious, impious hardiment. 
 
 Gives ever birth to wrong. 
 But from the healthful modest heart 
 That in no thought of crime hath part 
 Springs that men pray for earnestly, 
 Ever-beloved Prosperity. 
 
 Take this monition once for all : 
 
 Regard with stedfast reverence 
 The firmly-based, high-towering pedestal 
 
 Where Right hath residence ; 
 Nor spurn it godlessly, beholding gain ; 
 
 Since punishment is hard at hand, 
 And final vengeance shall remain 
 
 With ever-during brand. 
 Then honour parents as ye ought 
 With helpful deeds and reverent thought, 
 And to the stranger duly pay 
 Kind tribute on his devious way. 
 
 The man that wiUingly without constraint 
 Keeps righteousness, shall not be all unblest. 
 
SSI-S7S0 THE EUMENWES. 271 
 
 Nor come to final ruin though he faint. 
 
 But he that hath with forward heart transgressed, 
 Confounding righteousness in wild unrest, 
 
 Against his will shall one day shorten sail 
 With stress of tempest suddenly oppressed, 
 
 When yards are splintering as high winds prevail. 
 
 Then, whelmed and wrestling with the whirling tide. 
 He clamours forth the appeal that none shall hear, 
 
 While Heavenly powers laugh at his humbled pride. 
 His wild dejection, and his frenzied fear : 
 Since one who never dreamed such grief was near. 
 
 Embayed 'mongst miseries beyond recall. 
 Wrecks all his life found heretofore most dear 
 
 'Gainst rocks of right, where none laments his fall. 
 
 Athena returns. 
 
 Ath. Herald, proclaim strict silence through the host ; 
 Gr let the Tuscan trump, piercing the sky. 
 Blare forth amain, surcharged with breath of man. 
 Such best to all my people. For to-day. 
 While this high council are assembling here. 
 Behoves mute audience, till my law be heard 
 And fixed in everlasting memory 
 By all this city, and Orestes too. 
 That this great plea may be determined well. 
 
 Apollo appears. 
 
 Cho. Sovereign Apollo, rule within thy right. 
 What claim hast thou upon this cause ? Declare. 
 
272 THE EUMENIDES. [576-600. 
 
 Ap. I am here in evidence, to prove this man 
 A lawful suppliant who approached my shrine 
 And there by me was purged from guilt of blood : 
 Also to plead, myself, in part ; for I 
 Am charged with Clytemnestra's death. — Athena, 
 Open the cause, in due form, thine own way. 
 
 Ath. Herewith I open it. The way is plain. 
 We hear the accuser first, whose careful plea 
 Instructs us in the groundwork of the case. 
 
 Cho. We are many, but our words are brief and few ; 
 Let thine be short and simple in reply. 
 Answer this first Thy mother didst thou slay ? 
 
 Or. I slew her. That is not to be denied. 
 
 Cho. So. One of the three wrestling-bouts is o'er. 
 
 Or. Boast if ye will. Ye have not thrown me yet. 
 
 Cho. Still thou art bound to tell us how 'twas done. 
 
 Or. With sword-edge pressed against her throat. 'Tis 
 said. 
 
 Cho. Whose will and counsel moved thee to the deed ? 
 
 Or. Apollo's mandate, as he witnesseth. 
 
 Cho. The prophet bade thee be a matricide ? 
 
 Or. And to this hour I am well content withal. 
 
 Cho. Thou'lt change that tune, when judgment seizeth 
 thee. 
 
 Or. My father from his tomb will take my part ; 
 I fear not. 
 
 Cho. Ay, rely on dead men's aid, 
 When guilty of matricide ! 
 
 Or. She that is slain 
 
 Was doubly tainted. 
 
601-624] THE EVMENIDES. 273 
 
 Cho. How? Inform the Court. 
 
 Or. She slew her wedded lord, and slew my sire. 
 
 Cho. Death gave her quittance, then. But thou yet 
 livest. 
 
 Or. And while she lived, why didst thou not pursue her ? 
 
 Cho. No tie of blood bound her to whom she slew. 
 
 Or, But I was tied by blood-affinity 
 To her who bare me ? 
 
 Cho. Else, thou accursed one. 
 
 How nourished she thy life within her womb ? 
 Wouldst thou renounce the holiest bond of all ? 
 
 Or. Now give thy witness and expound the truth. 
 Apollo, was I just in slaying her ? 
 To have done it I deny not. 'Tis the fact. 
 But whether to thy thought this matricide 
 Be justified or no, declare thy mind 
 For information of those present here. 
 
 Ap. To all here present I will now proclaim 
 With perfect truth, Athena's high decree. 
 And being a seer, I shall not be belied. 
 I never spake from my prophetic seat 
 Concerning man or woman, people or state, 
 Save what the father of all gods had bidden. 
 The force hereof 'tis meet ye understand. 
 Lighten your footsteps by my Father's will ; 
 For 'tis more binding than all oaths. 
 
 Cho. And Zeus, 
 
 Thou say'st, inspired thee with this oracle. 
 To tell Orestes yonder he should wreak 
 His father's death and reck not of his mother ? 
 
 T 
 
274 THE EUMENWES. [625-654. 
 
 Ap. Of her what recks it, when a man of worth 
 And worship, honoured with the Zeus-given wand, 
 Is slaughtered by a woman, by his wife. 
 Not as by Amazon's far-darting bow, 
 But in such wise, Pallas, as thou shalt hear, 
 And ye who sit to vote upon this case. 
 With kindly welcome entertaining him 
 As he returned with good success from war. 
 After the bath, when close upon the goal, 
 She screened him round with a great web, then hacked 
 Her husband in the inextricable coil. 
 The fall hath now been told you of the man 
 
 Supreme in honour, levier of the fleet ; 
 
 Told in such terms as must enrage the court 
 
 Appointed to determine this great cause. 
 
 Cho. Zeus, thou maintainest, takes the father's part. 
 
 Did he not bind Kronos, his agfed sire ? 
 
 Is not this contrary to that ? Reply ! 
 
 And you, ye judges, lend a careful ear. 
 
 Ap. Monsters abominable, of Heaven abhorred. 
 
 Bonds may be loosed : there's remedy for that, — 
 
 Full many a means of healing and release, — 
 
 But when Earth's dust hath once drawn in the blood 
 
 Of man in death, he riseth up no more. 
 
 No charm for this hath our high Sire contrived. 
 
 Though in all else his strong omnipotence 
 
 Works endless transformation at his will. 
 
 Cho. Then look to thy defence of the outcast here. 
 
 Shall he, that shed to the earth the dearest blood 
 
 Of his true mother, hold his father's hall 
 
6SS-680.] THE EVMENIDES. 275 
 
 In Argos ? How should he do sacrifice ? 
 How share the lustral waters of his race ? 
 
 Ap. That scruple likewise I can satisfy. 
 She who is called the mother of the child 
 Is not its parent, but the nurse of seed 
 Implanted in begetting. He that sows 
 Is author of the shoot, which she, if Heaven 
 Prevent not, keeps as in a garden-ground. 
 In proof whereof, to show that fatherhood 
 May be without the mother, I appeal 
 To Pallas, daughter of Olympian Zeus, 
 In present witness here. Behold a plant, 
 Not moulded in the darkness of the womb, 
 Yet nobler than all scions of Heaven's stock. 
 I, O Athena,'both in other ways 
 Will magnify this people of thy choice 
 To my best power, and I have sent this man 
 Orestes, to approach thy hearth, that he 
 Might evermore be faithful to thy cause, 
 And thou mightst have him for a firm ally, 
 And his descendants, and this league might hold 
 Loyally kept by the posterity 
 Of these thy citizens to endless time. 
 
 Ath. Enough is spoken ; now I charge the Court 
 To vote in truth according to their thought 
 
 Cho. Our quiver is exhausted : we abide 
 To hear the verdict that decides our cause. 
 
 Ath. I would my vote might not displeasure you. 
 
 Cho. We have said our say. Strangers, with pious heart 
 In giving each his vote, observe your oath. 
 
276 THE EUMENIDES. [681-707. 
 
 Ath. Atheniaas, ye who are trying this first cause 
 Of human bloodshedding, hear my decree. 
 The people of ^geus shall for evermore 
 Retain this council incorruptible, 
 This mount of Ares, tabernacle and seat 
 Of the Amazons, who came in armfed might 
 Opposing Theseus, and, to thwart his will, 
 Built here and fortified this virgin rock 
 And sacrificed to Ares, whence the name 
 Of Areiopagus ; the dread whereof 
 And awful reverence inbred in the race 
 By day and night continuing shall restrain 
 This folk from wrong-doing, whilst the citizens 
 Avoid rash innovation. Crystal streams 
 Tainted with clay yield no refreshing draught. 
 I counsel this my people to revere. 
 And guard from change, the form of state removed 
 Alike from anarchy and tyranny, 
 Not casting forth all terror from the realm. 
 Since who of mortals, fearing naught, is just ? 
 Standing in awe, then, of this worshipped seat, 
 With hearts of righteousness, ye shall preserve 
 A fortress of protection for your land 
 Mightier than any held by human kind 
 From Scythia to the isle of Pelops old. 
 This Court-house inaccessible to wealth 
 I here inaugurate, swift for redress, 
 Yet capable of mercy, watching o'er 
 Poor souls that slumber, warden of the soil. 
 I have thus prolonged my charge for the behoof 
 
708-730.] THE EUMENIDES. 277 
 
 Of mine own citizens in times to be. 
 Now rise erect, lift each his voting-ball, 
 And in decision of this pending suit. 
 Respect your oaths. There is no more to say. 
 
 Cho. Meantime we counsel you, disparage not 
 Our dangerous presence cleaving to your land. 
 
 Ap. But I forewarn you, fear mine oracles 
 And my great Sire's, nor make their issues vain. 
 
 Cho. Through wanton furtherance of a blood-stained 
 cause 
 Thine oracles are tainted from to-day. 
 
 Ap. And have my Father's high designs been foiled, 
 Since in Ixion, the first homicide. 
 He gave protection to a suppliant's head ? 
 
 Cho. Thou talk'st, but we, if crossed to-day, will cling 
 With dangerous presence to this land. 
 
 Ap. Your rights 
 
 Are scouted by all gods both old and young. 
 My pleading shall prevail. 
 
 Cho. Such was thy course 
 
 In Pheres' mansion, when thou didst persuade 
 The Fates to spare a mortal man his doom. 
 
 Ap. Should gods not favour their own worshippers. 
 Most when in trouble ? 
 
 Cho. Thou didst lead astray 
 
 Those primal goddesses with draughts of wine, 
 O'erturning ordinance. 
 
 Ap. Thou, by and by. 
 
 Cast in thy suit, shalt vomit venom of gore 
 No longer hurtful to thine enemies. 
 
278 THE EUMENJDES. [731-757- 
 
 Cho. Young, thou wouldst override our ancient right. 
 We wait the issue of our cause, intent 
 With hovering mind, ready to ban this city. 
 
 [During the above dialogue the Councillors have 
 been putting their votes into the urns. 
 
 Ath. To me it falls to give my judgment last. 
 Here openly I give it for Orestes. 
 No mother bore me. To the masculine side 
 For all save marriage my whole heart is given, — 
 In all and everything the father's child. 
 So little care I for a woman's death. 
 That slew her lord, the guardian of her home. 
 Now, though the votes be even, Orestes wins. 
 Come, ye to whom the Court hath given this charge, 
 Draw forth the ballots from the voting urns. 
 
 Or. Apollo ! which way will the issue prove ? 
 
 Cho. Night, dark-eyed mother, seest thou what they 
 do? 
 
 Or. The hour for death or life to me draws on. 
 
 Cho. And ours for ruin or aggrandisement. 
 
 Ap. Be scrupulous, friends, in numbering either vote. 
 Parting the sets without dishonesty. 
 One pebble wanting makes disaster sure, 
 That, present, would restore prosperity. 
 
 Ath. Orestes hath escaped the doom of blood. 
 In numbering of the balls, both sides are even. 
 
 Or. O blest preserver, rescuer of my home, 
 Pallas, I, long since reft of fatherland, 
 Am now restored and stablished by thine aid. 
 The world shall say. He is Argive once again. 
 
757^783-] THE EVMENIDES. 279 
 
 And dwells secure with his own patrimony, 
 
 Through aid of Pallas and wise Loxias 
 
 And Saviour Zeus, third-named in sacrifice. 
 
 The All-disposer, who preserves my soul. 
 
 Albeit my mother's advocates stand forth. 
 
 Now, then, ere travelling homeward, I proclaim 
 
 To all thy people and their land this league 
 
 Solemnized by mine oath for evermore ; 
 
 No prince or potentate of Argive land 
 
 Shall marshal hitherward the serried war. 
 
 Which bond if any break in the after-time, 
 
 I, then within my grave, will punish him 
 
 With strange disasters hard to overbear, 
 
 Crossing such enterprise with omens dire 
 
 To balk his passage, turning all his toils 
 
 To bitterness of soul. But while they keep 
 
 And honour this my league with Pallas' town 
 
 In firm alliance, they themselves shall feel 
 
 The favour of my spirit. Now, farewell, 
 
 Athena, fare ye well that hold her town. 
 
 Still be your battle fatal to all foes, 
 
 Bringing to Athens glory and safety too ! \Exit. 
 
 Cho. Ah! Ah! 
 Young gods, ye have ridden down mine ancient right, 
 
 Ye have torn from out my hand 
 The meed of honour. Wherefore with fell spite 
 
 Biding to plague your land 
 (Woe for mine honour lost !) all-hapless I 
 
 From spirit's inmost core 
 
28o THE EUMENIDES. [784-803. 
 
 Will send the empoisoned gore, 
 Venom of vengeance, dripping banefully. 
 
 Ah ! Ah ! 
 
 Whence issuing forth amain 
 
 Over the sterile plain 
 A cancerous growth shall cover all the land ; 
 
 No blade shall spring, no child ; 
 
 But feuds unreconciled 
 Stamp the hard soU with life-destroying brand. 
 
 To Justice I complain. 
 
 Still, still shall I remain 
 With plagues unbearable to vex their town. 
 
 Ah ! Ah ! 
 
 Hard truly is our doom, 
 
 Daughters of primal gloom, 
 Cruelly wronged and barred from bright renown. 
 
 Ath. Hearken to me. Be not so grievous wroth. 
 Ye are not vanquished, for the votes were even. 
 Honestly given, not meant to slight your worth. 
 But the clear evidence of Zeus was there. 
 Witnessed by him who spake the prophecy, 
 Orestes should be scathless for this deed. 
 Then give not way to anger, nor inflict 
 On Athens the dire outcome of your hate, 
 In all her fields causing sterility 
 Through rank effusion of a baleful dew. 
 Showering sharp influence of malignant power, 
 
804-822.] THE EVMENIDES. 281 
 
 Withering all germens with unkindly drops. 
 
 For I make promise absolute and sure, 
 
 Ye shall have glorious shrines and altar-places, 
 
 And shelter underground, in this just land. 
 
 High throned, and earning homage of this people. 
 
 Cho, Ah! Ah! 
 Young gods, ye have ridden down mine ancient right 
 
 Ye have torn from out my hand 
 The meed of honour. Wherefore with fell spite 
 
 Biding to plague your land 
 (Woe for mine honour lost !) all-hapless I 
 
 From spirit's inmost core 
 
 Will send the empoisoned gore, 
 Venom of vengeance, dripping banefuUy. 
 
 Ah ! Ah ! 
 
 Whence issuing forth amain 
 
 Over the sterile plain 
 A cancerous growth shall cover all the land ; 
 
 No blade shall spring, no child ; 
 
 But feuds unreconciled 
 Stamp the hard soil with life-destroying brand. 
 
 To Justice I complain. 
 
 Still, still shall I remain 
 With plagues unbearable to vex their town. 
 
 Ah ! Ah ! 
 
 Hard truly is our doom. 
 
 Daughters of primal gloom, 
 Cruelly wronged and barred from bright renown. 
 
282 THE EUMENIDES. [823-855. 
 
 Ath. Ye are not disgraced, then do not, being divine. 
 Make barren for poor mortals their deep soil. 
 On Zeus I fix reliance. Why say more ? 
 I only of the Olympian powers can use 
 The key that opes the close-sealed treasure-house 
 Wherein the lightning-bolts are stored away. 
 Yet shall they not be needful. Thou wilt yield 
 To kind persuasion, and not launch the curse 
 Of barrenness on all fruit-bearing things. 
 Lull the dark billows of thy bitter mood 
 To share mine honours and my dwelling-place ; 
 And thou shalt find, as thy first-fruits come in 
 From this wide region, both of marriage dues 
 And child-birth offerings, good cause to bless 
 Eternally this utterance of my tongue. 
 Cho. Woe ! for my grievous wrong ! 
 
 This time-outwearied heart to dwell in gloom, 
 
 Unhonoured and abhorred ! 
 
 I pant with fury, breathing naught but hate. 
 
 O Earth, Earth, Earth ! woe ! woe ! 
 
 What inward pang is shooting through my breast ? 
 
 O mother Night, hear thou our anger's voice ! 
 
 Our ancient honour and prerogative, 
 
 Gods with their crafty wiles have crushed to naught. 
 Ath. I will seek to soothe your rage ; ye are elder far. 
 
 Yet though ye are older and more sage than I, 
 
 Me, too, hath Zeus made wise in my degree. 
 
 Then hear my warning. Passing hence abroad 
 
 Ye will feel passionate longings for this land. 
 
 For to these citizens in time to come 
 
855-883.] THE EUMENIDES. 283 
 
 The tide of glory shall not ebb. And ye, 
 
 Seated in state beside Erechtheus' dome, 
 
 From crowds of men and women shall receive 
 
 More than ye could from all the world beside. 
 
 But lay not on the region of my choice 
 
 Bloody in citem ents, marring spirits of youth, 
 
 Maddening their minds with fumes, but not of wine ; 
 
 Nor pricking them at heart like fighting-cocks 
 
 Goad them to fury of intestine broils. 
 
 Kin daring kin to the utterance in set fight. 
 
 War from without is ready (and welcome be it !) 
 
 To kindle man's dread passion for renown. 
 
 But let my birds be tame at home, say I. 
 
 Such noble gifts are thine to accept from me, 
 
 That, blessing, blest and worshipped, thou shouldst 
 
 dwell. 
 My partner in this Heaven-protected land. 
 
 Cho. Woe ! for my grievous wrong ! 
 This time-outwearied heart to dwell in gloom, 
 Unhonoured and abhorred ! 
 I pant with fury, breathing naught but hate. 
 O Earth, Earth, Earth ! woe ! woe ! 
 What inward pang is shooting through my breast ? 
 O mother Night, hear thou our anger's voice ! 
 Our ancient honour and prerogative, 
 Gods with their crafty wiles have crushed to naught. 
 
 Ath. I will not weary telling you of good ; 
 Lest ye should say that I, younger in birth. 
 Had chased with scorn your elder deities ; 
 And this my people, a firm-stablished race, 
 
284 THE EUMENWES. [884-915. 
 
 From their fair city had rejected you. 
 If aught you reverence sweet Persuasion's power, 
 Or my tongue's mildness soften you at all, 
 You will bide here : but if you will not stay, 
 You will not justly send upon this town 
 Vengeance or spite, nor plague her populace, 
 Since with full rights and honours unimpaired, 
 'Tis yours to dwell and have your portion here. 
 
 Cho. Athena, tell, what portion shall we have ? 
 
 Ath. One freed from all annoy. Reject it not. 
 
 Cho. Say I receive it Then, what dues are mi ne ? 
 
 Ath. No home without thee shall be fortunate. 
 
 Cho. Wilt thou secure me such authority ? 
 
 Ath. Prospering all fortunes for thy worshippers. 
 
 Cho. Wilt thou assure this for all time to come ? 
 
 Ath. Why should I promise, if I would not pay ? 
 
 Cho. I feel thou art moving me. My rage subsides. 
 
 Ath. You will stay and win affection in this land ? 
 
 Cho. Then wouldst thou have me chant mine auspices ? 
 
 Ath. Chant, if you sing the triumph of all good. 
 Chant of sweet airs that from the earth and sea 
 And breathed from Heaven beneath a wholesome 
 
 sun 
 Visit this land. Chant of rich harvest days. 
 Of cattle never failing to bring forth, 
 Of foison with the seasons multiplied, 
 Of human generations sound and whole ! 
 I, like a prudent gardener, desire 
 No blight to oppress my righteous nurslings here. 
 Such are your dues. And in the heat of war 
 
916-935] THE EUMENIDES. 285 
 
 Where honours thicken, I will evermore 
 
 Crown with new triumph this world-conquering State. 
 
 Chorus. 
 I give consent to dwell with Pallas here, 
 
 Nor scorn the sacred race. 
 Whose town high Zeus and he who guides the spear 
 
 Have chosen, their holy place. 
 Stronghold of heavenly powers, to Grecian gods most 
 
 dear, 
 Guard of all altars, on whose life I pray. 
 
 With gentlest augury, 
 Kind Helios still may shed his brightest ray, 
 
 Trebling prosperity, 
 Still gendering from the ground new comfort each new 
 day. 
 
 Ath. In my zeal for the men of this town, with these 
 Powers ever hard to entreat 
 I make league and establish them here, in a gloomy and 
 
 awful retreat. 
 For o'er all that is human they wield a majestic and 
 
 fatal control. 
 And the man that hath felt not their anger a burdensome 
 
 weight on his soul, 
 Knoweth naught of the springs of disaster : his sins of 
 
 the past havp in charge 
 To hale him before these for judgment ; yea even while 
 
 he seemeth at large, 
 
•286 THE EUMENIDES. [936-960. 
 
 And is high-voiced in vaunting, the engine of wrathful 
 
 destruction, at hand, 
 Waits in silence to grind him to powder, and sweep 
 
 him away from the land. 
 
 Cho. Ko blighting blast shall breathe upon the trees, 
 
 Such boon my bounty yields, 
 No mildew come to check the grain's increase 
 
 Invading their tilled fields ; 
 No dire abortive influence waste them with disease ! 
 But life-supporting Earth in season due 
 
 Still without fail shall bear 
 The grazing flocks, each early-teeming ewe 
 
 Graced with her yeanling pair, 
 While gold from Earth's own womb shall God-sent 
 wealth declare. 
 
 Ath. Have ye heard, O ye guardians of Athens, what 
 destiny lives in that sound ? 
 For the voice of Erinnys hath power both in Heaven and 
 
 with gods underground. 
 And to some she makes life ever joyous and loud with 
 
 the thanksgiving hymn. 
 While for others the light is o'erclouded, with heart- 
 broken weeping made dim. 
 
 Cho. Untimely violent deaths be far from hence. 
 
 Cull not this people's flower ; 
 And grant, ye gods appointed to dispense 
 
 Riches from Hymen's dower, 
 
960-984.] THE EUMENIDES. 287 
 
 Men to fair maids, well suited each to other, 
 Grant it, dread Fates, own sisters of our mother. 
 Ye that o'er every home wield righteous power — 
 
 With ever worshipped sway 
 Pressing on mortal life from hour to hour 
 
 From burdened day to day, — 
 Honoured above all gods in your unswerving sway. 
 
 Ath. I am gladdened to think that your land hath 
 these destinies fixed by their zeal. 
 
 And I give to the power of Persuasion heart-affluent 
 thanks, for I feel 
 
 She has ruled my discourse and my converse towards 
 these who were stubbornly bent 
 
 To repel all advance. But high Zeus hath his town- 
 shielding augury lent, 
 
 Reinforcing the cause- that was righteous. Thus ever 
 for good we conspire 
 
 And ever prevail in that strife, — the Olympian daughter 
 and sire. 
 
 Cho. Far, too, from hence be heard the ravenous roar 
 
 Of wild-beast Faction's voice ; 
 Let not the darkening dust, drinking red gore 
 
 Of citizens, rejoice 
 In wreaking death for death, new vengeance sowing ! 
 But ever may the genial interflowing 
 Of mirth for mirth, kindness for kindness, fill 
 
 All souls within the state, 
 
288 THE EVMENIDES. [985-1004. 
 
 With unanimity of mild good will, 
 And firm harmonious hate. 
 Full many a public ill that medicine shall abate. 
 
 Ath. Perceive ye the path of their counsel, the wisdom 
 that flows from their tongue ? 
 
 Great gain from these terrible Forms will be yours when, 
 your temples among. 
 
 Their countenance looks on your city. While ye shall 
 with loyalty cling 
 
 To their worship, and load them with honour, the bless- 
 ings their bounty shall bring 
 
 Will exalt you. Your city and nation will shine to the 
 world through all time, 
 
 As the lovers and doers of justice, the foes and avoiders 
 of crime. 
 
 Cho. Hail, all hail ! May all your store 
 
 Fit your need for evermore. 
 
 People of the favoured town 
 
 Nestled 'neath the sheltering down 
 
 Of Pallas' wings ! Her mighty Sire 
 Regards your shield and checks his ire. 
 
 Timely have ye ta'en your part 
 
 With the daughter of his heart. 
 
 Ath. All hail to you likewise I Behoves that I lead 
 you and point you the road 
 To your chamber of lasting repose, lighted on to that 
 solemn abode 
 
IO06-IO23.J THE EUMENWES. 289 
 
 By this train of your holy conductors. Then while we 
 do sacrifice here 
 
 Go, and passing beneath, be ye watchful henceforth in 
 each onset of fear 
 
 To keep under all harm for the land, and send forth for 
 the good of my town 
 
 All advantage that tends to true honour, and ends in 
 triumphant renown. 
 
 Then, ye children of Cranaiis, dwellers in Athens, con- 
 duct the new band 
 
 That receives now and renders protection, abiding hence- 
 forth in your land. 
 
 Last, I pray that for ever henceforward the strain of my 
 citizens' thought 
 
 May be holy, and steeped in all virtue, and issue in good 
 as it ought. 
 
 Cho. Hail, all hail, — we say it again, — 
 Holy powers and mortal men. 
 All that hold the blessfed town 
 Which Athena's glories crown ! 
 For while our presence ye revere 
 In our new home established here, 
 All your hap that is to be 
 Shall be pure prosperity. 
 
 \The ceremonial follows. 
 
 Ath. My heart approves the tenour of those prayers. 
 And now by flaming torchlight I will lead you 
 To your appointed place below the ground, 
 
 u 
 
290 THE EUMENIDES. [1024-1043. 
 
 With these attendants, whose religious care 
 Preserves mine image. To the central spot 
 Of all the land of Theseus, a fair troop, 
 Boys, maids, and agfed matrons, shall arrive 
 Robed in rich vestments all of purple grain. 
 Advance the torch-flame and illume the way, 
 That this new company henceforth may dwell 
 Propitious here, and make this country great. 
 
 \The procession is formed. 
 
 Attendants. Come home, this way come. 
 Great children of darkness, aye childless, descend to con- 
 genial gloom ! 
 The tribute of worship ye long for is firmly secured here _ 
 above, 
 And we lead you with love. 
 Herald. Hush ! 
 Keep silence, ye folk, one and all ! 
 
 Attend. Come away, come away ! 
 In primeval recesses of Earth ye shall hide from impor- 
 tunate Day — 
 Where hallowed with worship and homage, and savour 
 of sacrifice slain. 
 Ye for aye shall remain. 
 Her. All ye people, be hushed at my call ! 
 Attend. Then come, ye dread powers, kind and faith- 
 ful to Athens, nor waken to wrath ; 
 Come hither, be cheered by the flame, pine-consuming, 
 that lightens your path. 
 Her. Shout, ye folk, a new age hath begun ! 
 
I044-I047.] THE EUMENWES. 291 
 
 Attend. Torch - illumined libations henceforward the 
 people of Pallas shall bring 
 To your dwelling — so Fate hath made compact with Zeus 
 the Olympian King. 
 Her. Shout, ye people, the chanting is done ! 
 
PROMETHEUS BOUND. 
 
 PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. 
 Power and Violence. The latter does not speak. 
 
 HePH/ESTUS. 
 
 Prometheus. 
 
 Chorus of Ocean Nymphs. 
 
 OCEANUS. 
 
 lo. 
 Hermes. 
 
 The Scene is in a rocky wilderness to the north of Scythia. 
 Time — Primeval. 
 
In the Oresteian trilogy the wild justice of the early world has 
 given place to Equity under the jurisdiction of Athena and her 
 Areopagites. Through her civilizing influence the very nature of 
 those ancient goddesses, the Erinnyes, has been modified, and they 
 are now the Eumenides, a beneficent, not a destructive power. 
 This may prepare us for a further reach of imagination, viz. the 
 bold suggestion that Zeus himself had not always been the benefi- 
 cent equitable ruler in whom the Athenians believed, but had 
 learned wisdom through experience. jEschylus figures to himself 
 a time of spiritual chaos, in which not only the elemental passions 
 of humanity, but the very elements of deity, were not yet har- 
 monized, but conflicting. He is thus enabled more impressively to 
 make it felt that it is in the union of power and wisdom, of energy 
 and beneficence, that true Godhead, the impersonation of Righteous- 
 ness, consists. 
 
 In attempting to give expression to this thought, he was assisted 
 by some mythologies, which told that in the supreme region there 
 had formerly been change and succession. Nay, it was whispered, 
 as in the myth of Prometheus, that Zeus had once been a malig- 
 nant ruler. That dim tradition was the outcome of an age when 
 men's conception of the Highest had been a creature of their fear. 
 We know from the story of Mycerinus, and from the words of 
 Solon in Herodotus, i. 32 ("God is envious and loves to make 
 confusion "), that such notions had been powerful in earlier times, 
 and had been revived and accentuated by Ionian pessimism. The 
 legend of Prometheus (whatever may have been its origin) con- 
 veyed a special aspect of this mode of thought, expressing the 
 superstitious dread with which a rude conservatism regards the 
 inventor, as one who by sheer force of mind transcends the appointed 
 limits of the human lot, and makes the divine powers of nature 
 subservient to the wants of mortals. But the legend, so conceived, 
 implied a stage of culture which the Athenian imagination, im- 
 mature as it still was in some respects, had far outgrown. 
 
( 295 ) 
 
 And yEschylus tells his spectators in effect, " This happened, 
 indeed, but under an earlier dispensation. And it involved a 
 contrariety which could not last. For Power rejecting Wisdom 
 must come to naught, and Wisdom rebelling against Power is 
 fettered and manacled. Omnipotence, to be eternal, must be at 
 one with wisdom and beneficence ; in a word, must be just. And 
 because power, alone and unaccompanied, is brittle and transient, 
 wisdom and beneficence are co-eternal with almighty Power." 
 
 The old fable is therefore now recast as follows: — "There was 
 a time when the authority of Zeus was not yet finally secured. In 
 accordance with the presage of Themis, Goddess of Right, the son 
 of Cronos had subdued the Anarchs of the Past, not by brute 
 violence, but by the help of Forethought, which the Titans had 
 despised. But having won the heavenly throne, he was liable to 
 the disease of selfishness that is naturally incident to every irre- 
 sponsible ruler, and began to exercise his power without regard to 
 the wisdom which had gained it for him ; while towards mortals 
 he exhibited an excessive harshness. But to these courses the irre- 
 pressible spirit of Wisdom was opposed, and, in spite of Zeus, 
 succeeded in obtaining gifts for men. 
 
 " So long as the struggle lasted, the sovereignty of Zeus was im- 
 perilled. And thus the Fates were heard to whisper. On the 
 other hand, had the opposition remained. Wisdom must have been 
 held in lasting bonds. 
 
 " But Wisdom knew the secret word, which solitary Power had 
 failed to apprehend, and Necessity at last made Power submit to 
 learn the truth from Wisdom. Thus Zeus was saved from fatal 
 error, and his reign thenceforward became identical with that 
 growth of Justice in the world, which must ultimately subdue all 
 moral discord." 
 
 The " Prometheus Bound " is the central play of a trilogy, of which 
 the first act, " Prometheus the Fire-bringer," represented the revolt 
 of Prometheus ; and the third, the " Prometheus Unbound," his 
 hearty reconciliation (not his submission) to the Supreme God. 
 
 In dramatic contrast to the principal figure, and helping to draw 
 out the gentleness which accompanies his strength, are the daugh- 
 ters of Oceanus (sisters of his wife Hesionfe), who come to visit 
 him ; and lo, the ancestress of Heracles his future deliverer, and 
 the female victim of the oppression and caprice of Zeus. As the 
 
( 296 ) 
 
 daughter of Inachus, the river-god, she is also near of kin to the 
 Oceanides., These persons, and also that of Oceanus himself on 
 his "four-footed bird," give occasion for various excursions into the 
 region of mythological geography, in which the Athenians of the 
 age preceding Pericles manifestly took great delight. And although 
 these episodes delay the action, the grand manner in which ^schylus 
 unfolds them has an undying charm. The same motive was re- 
 peated in the " Prometheus Unbound," where Prometheus foretold 
 the wanderings of Heracles. But we miss the concentrated passion 
 of the Choephoroe, and feel, in reading this drama, as if we were 
 thrown back upon an earlier phase of art. It would be rash, how- 
 ever, to conclude from this that the Promethean trilogy was com- 
 posed before the Oresteia. It is precisely in dealing with the 
 superhuman that high poetry, from Homer to Milton, has been apt 
 to flag and falter, and if the "Prometheus Bound" does savour here 
 and there rather of the Morality or Mystery than of Tragedy proper, 
 it was hardly to be- expected that the great advance made in grap- 
 pling with the horrors of the House of Atreus should be evenly 
 maintained when the poet entered on a wholly different sphere. 
 
 Nor is it to be supposed that the taste of the Athenian audience 
 could be maintained at the height of tragic sympathy to which 
 Cassandra, Clytemnestra and Electra had for the moment raised it. 
 The plot of the Eumenides shows that there was still an element of 
 puerility, if not of childishness, in the popular fancy to which the 
 soaring rnind of jEschylus had to appeal. In all probability the 
 grounds of the reconcilement between Zeus and Prometheus were 
 not less archaic, and, if the "Prometheus Unbound" of ^schylus 
 had been' preserved, would have proved equally disappointing to 
 the modern reader. 
 
PROMETHEUS BOUND. 
 
 Power, (Violence), Heph^stus. 
 
 Pow. We are come to far Earth's limit — to a land 
 Where no foot, save of Scythian, moves — a waste 
 Without inhabitant. Fire-god ! 'tis thine 
 To execute the mandate of our sire 
 And yoke this felon to yon beetling crag, 
 Pinned fast in adamantine bonds. Thy pride, 
 Fire, — sovran secret of all arts, — he stole 
 And lavished on frail mortals. Such the sin 
 Whereof he must receive Heaven's recompense. 
 That he may learn to accept the almighty sway 
 Of Zeus, and cease befriending humankind. 
 
 Heph. O Power and Violence, your charge from Zeus 
 Is all accomplished, and your path is clear : 
 But I am full of heaviness. My heart 
 Shrinks from this task, — to bind a kindred god 
 With violent hand to yon storm-cloven ravine ! 
 Yet must I steel my spirit to this deed : 
 Slackness is dangerous where Zeus commands. 
 Deep-thoughted son of Themis wise in heart, 
 Against my will and thine, with fetters forged 
 Indissolubly, shall I nail thee here 
 
298 PROMETHEUS BOUND. [20-47. 
 
 To a man-forsaken crag. No human voice 
 Nor form shall greet thee : but the Sun's clear flame 
 Shall shrivel black the bloom upon thy skin, 
 That when the star-enrobfed Night shall hide 
 Day's blessfed light, glad shalt thou be : and glad 
 When the sun melts again the frost of dawn : — 
 Still wearied with the stress of present woe. 
 For none hath being that shall comfort thee. 
 Such fruit thou reapest from befriending man. 
 Daring the wrath of thine own race divine. 
 To men thou gavest rights beyond their due. 
 Wherefore thou still shalt guard this joyless glen, 
 A dreary sentinel, ne'er bending knee, 
 Erect and sleepless. Many a piteous moan 
 And many a deep-drawn sigh shall sound from thee 
 Bootless ; for Zeus is deaf to intercession. 
 And young in power is ever harsh in will. 
 
 Fow. Well, then, why be compassionate and dwell 
 On vain procrastination ? Why not hate 
 The god most hateful to all gods, who gave 
 By treason your bright glory to frail men ? 
 
 Heph. Kindred and comradeship have fearful power. 
 
 Fow. I grant ye. But more fearful 'tis to spurn 
 Our father's bidding. Tremble and obey ! 
 
 Heph. Thou art ever ruthless and o'er-confident. 
 
 Pow. Lamenting him availeth not to save. 
 Labour not idly, where all toil is vain. 
 
 Heph. Mysterious handicraft, O how I hate thee ! 
 
 Pow. Why hate your mystery ? To phrase it clear, 
 Your craft is blameless for your toil to-day. 
 
48-72.] PROMETHEUS BOUND. 
 
 299 
 
 Heph. Howbeit, I would it never had been mine. 
 
 Pow. All lots are hard, but to be King of Heaven : 
 The rest are servants — Zeus alone is free. 
 
 Heph, This mission proves it. I am dumb. 
 
 Pow. Go to ! 
 
 Enring him with his fetters, lest our lord 
 Spy thee neglecting his command. 
 
 Heph. Behold ! 
 
 The armlets here are ready. 
 
 Pow. Take them, and 
 
 With mighty sledge-hammer smite them around 
 His elbows ; rivet him fast to the rock. 
 
 Heph. That work proceeds, nor is it idly done. 
 
 Pow. Beat harder, pinch him close, leave nothing loose : 
 He'd find his way out at an auger-hole. 
 
 Heph. This arm is fast beyond all conjuring forth. 
 
 Pow. Now clasp the other no less firm ; that he 
 May know his wisdom feebler than our Sire's. 
 
 Heph. None but Prometheus can find fault with me. 
 
 Pow. Now then, with all thy might drive through his chest 
 The fierce tusk of the adamantine wedge. 
 
 Heph. Alas ! I groan, Prometheus, for thy pain. 
 
 Pow. Again thou shrinkest, and for Heaven's foe 
 Dost groan. Thou'lt pity thine own case one day. 
 Beware ! 
 
 Heph. And can thine eye behold this sight ? 
 
 Pow. I see a rebel reaping his deserts. 
 Come, put the girths about his ribs. 
 
 Heph. I must ! 
 
 What needs thy vehemence ? 
 
30O PROMETHEUS BOUND. [73-98. 
 
 Pow. I'll use it though, 
 
 Aud hound thee, too, with cries. Go down and ring 
 His ankles, laying force upon his legs. 
 
 Heph. 'Tis done. That called for no protracted toil. 
 
 Pow. Now clinch with mighty strokes the rivet-bolts, 
 For stern is he that oversees thy work. 
 
 Heph. Grim as thy form is the utterance of thy tongue, 
 
 Pow. Melt thou, an' if thou must ; but chide not me 
 For my harsh mood and stubborn wilfulness. 
 
 Heph. His limbs have all their casings. Let us go. 
 
 Pow. {to Prom.) There vent thine insolence, and 
 reaving gods 
 Of rights, bestow them on brief-dated man ! 
 Which of thy woes can mortal men relieve ? 
 " Fore-thinker " art thou falsely named in Heaven, 
 Since here thou hast need of one to think for thee, 
 How to unwind the coil by art made sure. 
 
 \Exeunt all but Prometheus. 
 
 Prom. Ether of Heaven and Winds untired of wing. 
 Rivers, whose fountains fail not, and thou Sea, 
 Laughing in waves innumerable 1 O Earth, 
 All-Mother ! — Yea, and on the Sun I call. 
 Whose orb scans all things ; — look on me and see 
 How La god, am wronged by gods. Behold 
 
 How torn with outrage here I must remain 
 
 Through countless ages wrestling against pain. 
 
 Such means iniquitous to hold me bound 
 
 Hath this new ruler of the immortals found. 
 
 Ay me ! 
 
 Woes that are here, and woes that are to come 
 
99-127.] PROMETHEUS BOUND. 301 
 
 Afflict my spirit. Vast, unending gloom ! 
 What light shall bring a limit to my doom ? 
 
 What am I saying ? All is known to me, 
 
 All, all that is to be j — nor with fresh smart 
 
 Shall one pang smite me. Then let me endure 
 
 My destiny as I may, knowing that none 
 
 May e'er bid battle to Necessity. 
 
 Yet how be silent o'er my lot ? How speak 
 
 What is befallen ? Because I gave to men 
 
 Gifts claimed of gods, I am bound in durance here. 
 
 Charging therewith the hollow of a reed, 
 
 I caught, by stealth, of fire a secret spring, 
 
 That proved a boon full of resource for men, 
 
 Best tutor in all arts. For such offence 
 
 This punishment ineffable I bear. 
 
 Fast riveted in bonds beneath the sky. 
 Ah ! Ah 1 What is here ? 
 
 What sound this way wafted, what odour unseen. 
 Hath reached me, from god, man, or nature between ? 
 Who to this craggy bourne of the world can have come 
 Bent to view my distress, or how moved here to roam ? 
 
 Ye see me prisoned here, a god ill-starred, 
 
 Of Zeus the enemy, hated of all 
 
 That tread the courts of his omnipotence. 
 
 Because of mine exceeding love for men. 
 Ay me ! Again 
 
 What rustling of pinions, what wide-hovering bird. 
 One or more, is at hand, that great Ether is stirred 
 With soft whirring of plumes ? I am shaken with fear 
 At each moving thing that comes near. 
 
302 PROMETHEUS BOUND. [128-153. 
 
 Chorus {entering above). 
 
 Nay, fear us not ! With love we near thy scaur, 
 In eager-wingbd car. 
 
 Vying in fleetness with the following wind 
 That with kind convoy sped me fast and far. 
 Since deep within our cave the echoed clang 
 Of smitten steel amazed us as it rang, 
 Scaring demure-eyed shame, that forth we flew, 
 Hardly prevailing on our father's mind, 
 Unsandalled. 
 
 Prom. Ah ! ye children ever true 
 
 Of plenteous-teeming Tethys, and of him 
 Who enrings the land with even-rolling rim, 
 Unaltered from of old. 
 Ocean, unwearied Father : — look ! behold 
 How, clasped to towering cliffs with fetters hard. 
 O'er this ravine I mount unenvied guard. 
 
 Cho. I see, Prometheus, and a mist of tears, 
 Exhaled from tender fears. 
 Hath filled mine eyes, when I behold thy form 
 Thus withering in the sun-glare and the storm, 
 To that bare cliff with bonds of insult tied : 
 Since new be they that guide 
 The heavenly helm ; Zeus with uncouth decrees 
 Old ordinance hath altered at his ease, 
 And hoary might he hath cruelly defied. 
 
 Prom. Would he had hurled me far below the 
 ground 
 Beyond dark Pluto's realm, where ghosts abound, 
 
iS4-i8o.] PROMETHEUS BOUND. 303 
 
 To utmost Tartarus' unfathomed gloom, 
 How savagely soe'er, with changeless doom ! 
 There, out of sight and mind, I were exempt 
 
 From Heaven and Earth's contempt. 
 Now, hung aloft amidst the moving spheres, 
 
 I bear the baffling years. 
 While Zeus and all his ministers of hate 
 Gloat o'er my woes, exultant and elate. 
 
 Cho. Lives in all Heaven one so hard of heart 
 To joy at what we see ? 
 What spirit doth not feelingly take part 
 
 With thy deep misery? 
 Save Zeus, who pitilessly still 
 Fixing on wrath his furious will 
 Subdues the race of Heaven ; nor will he cease, 
 Till sated with destruction he find ease. 
 Or some one, by a strange unlooked-for blow, 
 His sovran power impregnable o'erthrow. 
 
 Prom. Ay, though he be Heaven's potentate, and I 
 Limb-fettered in stern bonds remorselessly, 
 Yet shall he need mine aid to bring to light 
 The plot that reaves from him his boasted right. 
 But neither honey-tongued persuasive charm. 
 Nor all the scathing terrors of his arm 
 Shall bring me to reveal it, till he choose 
 From these heart-galling bonds my limbs to loose. 
 And recompense my soul-dishonouring harm. 
 
 Cho. Thou yieldest naught to pain and bitter wrong. 
 And of thy speech art free, — 
 Too free of speech, contending with the strong! 
 
304 PROMETHEUS BOUND. [181-207. 
 
 But dread hath seized on me, 
 Piercing my heart with anxious fears, 
 Where in the waste of countless years 
 Thou shalt see land and bring thy bark to shore. 
 For who may nerve his spirit to implore 
 The heart of Zeus ; what voyager may find 
 The undiscovered pathway to his mind ? 
 
 Prom. I know him ruthless, measuring right and good 
 Ever by what he wills ; yet shall his mood 
 Be softened, when this blow shall break him down. 
 
 Then shall the settled frown 
 Be smoothed upon his brow to gentle peace ; 
 
 Then shall his anger cease, 
 And both our hearts, that after vengeance yearned, 
 To love and loyal friendship shall be turned. 
 
 Cho. Unveil and voice to us the whole dark truth ; 
 Upon what charge hath Zeus arrested thee, 
 And wreaked on thee these dire indignities ? 
 Inform us, if thou mayest without more harm. 
 
 Prom. Even to tell of it is pain, and yet 
 Silence is pain : — misery every way ! 
 When first the wrath of gods began to rise. 
 And Faction reared her crest in Heaven, one part 
 Minded to oust old Cronos, that forsooth 
 Zeus might be lord ; others, with equal heat, 
 Contending, Zeus should never rule in Heaven ; — 
 I, at that point, instructing for the best 
 The Titan offspring of great Earth and Sky, 
 Could not persuade them, but their giant thought, 
 Proudly disdaining my ingenious wiles, 
 
208-236.] PROMETHEUS BOUND. 305 
 
 Vaunted of victory by simple force, 
 
 Without more toil. But I, not once alone, 
 
 Had hearkened to my mother's prophecies 
 
 (Themis or Earth, one nature, howe'er named), 
 
 That not by strength or violent assault, 
 
 But through contrivance should the victory come 
 
 And the issue be determined. With such words 
 
 I warned them, but they looked another way. 
 
 Then seemed it the best course within my power, 
 
 To take my mother with me at my side. 
 
 And stand with Zeus, a welcome volunteer. 
 
 Therefore, because my counsel pleased him then, 
 
 The deep and darksome hold of Tartarus 
 
 Hides ancient Cronos and his host of friends. 
 
 Such benefit that tyrant of the gods 
 
 Rewards with this unequal recompense. 
 
 Suspicion is a vice ingrained in kings. 
 
 Now, for your question in particular. 
 
 Upon what charge he thus torments me here, 
 
 That too shall be made plain. When he sat firm 
 
 Upon his father's throne, he straight began 
 
 Distributing to various under-gods 
 
 The honours of his newly-ordered realm. 
 
 But of the poor distressful race of men 
 
 He took no thought ; — nay, 'twas his firm intent 
 
 To blot them from the world, and bring to birth 
 
 Another brood of creatures in their room. 
 
 This plan none hindered, none opposed, but I. 
 
 I dared to cross him, and redeem mankind 
 
 From ruin and the abyss of nothingness 
 
 X 
 
3o5 PROMETHEUS BOUND. [237-265. 
 
 Therefore I thus am bowed with chastisement, 
 Painful to bear and piteous to be seen. 
 Compassionating mortals in my heart, 
 Myself refused compassion, to the shame 
 Of Him in heaven, I stand corrected here. 
 
 Cho. Of stony mould and steel-made heart were he, 
 Prometheus, whom thy suffering melted not. 
 I had shrunk erewhile from the mere thought of that 
 The sight whereof wrings me with inmost woe. 
 
 Prom. To friendly eyes I am a sight of pain. 
 
 Cho. Say, was there more? Hast thou told all thy 
 sin? 
 
 Prom. I took from man the expectancy of Death. 
 
 Cho. What cure hadst thou invented for that ill ? 
 
 Prom. Blind hopes, which I established in his heart. 
 
 Cho. A mighty boon thou gavest mortals there. 
 
 Prom. Yet further, I provided them with fire. 
 
 Cho. Fire to frail man ? Have mortals radiant fire ? 
 
 Prom. Yea, and therefrom shall compass various skill. 
 
 Cho. And on this charge doth Zeus torment thee now 
 With ignominious bondage and strong pain ? 
 And is no limit set for thy release ? 
 
 Prom. No limit but the day of his desire. 
 
 Cho. When should that dawn? What hope? Ah, 
 seest thou not 
 How wrong thou wert ? How deeply wrong, 'twere pain 
 For us to speak and thee to hear. Let be ! 
 But try some course for gaining thy reprieve. 
 
 Prom. How easy 'tis for one who is free from woe. 
 To counsel and admonish the unhappy ! 
 
265-292.] PROMETHEUS BOUND. 307 
 
 I knew it all beforehand. Mine offence 
 Was wilful. I avouch it willingly. 
 Rescuing mankind, I plunged myself in woe. 
 Yet could I not imagine he would wreak 
 His anger in such pains as here I suffer, 
 ■Withering against this air-poised crag, inheriting 
 This savage rock in desert solitude ! 
 Howbeit, lament not for my present ills, 
 But setting foot on ground, hear me relate 
 The evil coming on, that ye may leam 
 My fortunes to their end. Grant my reques.t, 
 Show kindness to him now in misery. 
 Knowing that Sorrow's ever wandering tread 
 Visits in turn all bosoms at her will. 
 
 Cho. With desire we obey thy command, 
 And with light foot thus leaving our fast-flying chair, 
 And the highway of eagles, the smooth stainless air. 
 We aUght on the rock-roughened land. 
 The full course of thy woes and their end we would fain 
 understand. \They descend to the orchestra. 
 
 Enter Oceanus, mounted on a griffon. 
 
 Ocean. I am come, having travelled a tedious road, 
 To find, Prometheus, thy drear abode, 
 Directing the flight of my fleet-winged steed 
 By my thought, for of bridle he ne'er hath need. 
 That I feel thy fortunes I bid thee know ; 
 Both law of kindred compels me so. 
 And, apart from kinship, none lives whose name 
 On my love and worship hath mightier clainu 
 
3o8 PROMETHEUS BOUND. [293-320. 
 
 For more assurance, try me and see, 
 
 Idly to flatter is not in me. 
 
 Only declare what deed of mine 
 
 May stead thee, or further thy main design, 
 
 And thou ne'er shalt tell that, the whole world through, 
 
 Thou hast found than Ocean a friend more true. 
 
 Prom. Ha ! Who comes here ? Art thou, too, bent to 
 view 
 This agony ? How couldst thou leave the stream 
 Called after thee, and the rock-vaulted caves. 
 Thy workmanship, to come so near broad Earth, 
 Mother of iron ? Is it to gaze thy iill, 
 And harrow up thy spirit with my woes ? 
 Behold a pageant of ingratitude, 
 The friend of Zeus, that helped him to his throne. 
 Bowed with such pangs as thou beholdest here ! 
 
 Ocean. Yea, and it moves me, O Prometheus mine, 
 To counsel thee, deep thinker though thou art. 
 Learn thine own weakness, and conform thy ways 
 To his new government who rules in Heaven. 
 Por if thou flingest abroad such bitter speech, 
 So harsh and vehement, though Zeus sit high 
 Yet might he hear thee, and the wrath to come 
 Make child's-play of thy present agonies. 
 Unhappy one, bid angry passion cease. 
 And seek remission from thy misery. 
 Find'st thou an old-world cadence in my words ? 
 Most like ! but yet in truth the recompense 
 Of too bold speech is that which I declare. 
 And thou art still unhumbled, unsubdued. 
 
32I-3SO.] PROMETHEUS BOUND. 
 
 309 
 
 And goest the way to make misfortune more. 
 
 But not, if I might be thy counsellor, 
 
 Shouldst thou strike back against the goad, since he 
 
 Is harsh that rules, responsible to none. 
 
 I, howsoe'er, will go and do my best 
 
 To win enlargement and relief for thee ; 
 
 If only thou wilt hold thee still and cease 
 
 From stormy virulence. Knowest thou not well, 
 
 Being excellent in wisdom, that restraint 
 
 Still presses sorely on the unbridled tongue ? 
 
 Prom. I envy thee thy freedom from this blame, 
 
 Though in mine enterprise thou too hadst part. 
 
 But let it, be, set thy good heart at rest. 
 
 Thou canst not move him : he is inexorable. 
 
 See rather lest thine errand bring thee pain. 
 Ocean. Thou art wiser to admonish other minds 
 
 Than prudent for thyself : I see that well. 
 
 But pull not back me who am bent to go. 
 
 Zeus, I am confident, will grant me this 
 
 Indulgence, to release thee from thy bond. 
 
 Prom. I still must praise thy purpose. Thy staunch soul 
 
 Lacks naught of zealous love. But spare thy toil : 
 
 Idle thy labour, naught availing me. 
 
 Hold thyself quiet, out of sorrow's way. 
 
 What though I suffer ? Should I then desire 
 
 Unhappiness to ravage far and near ? 
 
 Not so. My Brother Atlas' woes afflict me. 
 
 Who, stationed by the region of the west. 
 
 Upbears the pillar of the Universe, 
 
 'Twixt Earth and Heaven, on his shoulders broad, 
 
Sro PROMETHEUS BOUND. [350-378. 
 
 No holiday load. Another have I seen 
 
 And sorrowed for, erst the Earth-born denizen 
 
 Of the Cilician Cave, that monster-foe, 
 
 Now forcibly subdued by power supreme. 
 
 Dread hundred-throated Typhon unappalled, 
 
 That stood erect against the heavenly host, 
 
 His horrid jaws hissing with murderous gore. 
 
 While lurid lightnings flashed from forth his eyes> 
 
 As he would storm of Zeus the sovran throne. 
 
 But the ne'er-slumbering firebolt, neezing flame, 
 
 Zeus' javelin, descending on him there, 
 
 Down smote him from his pinnacle of pride. 
 
 And scathed his strength to ashes. Who to-day. 
 
 Stricken to the core, beside the narrow sea 
 
 Reclines, a palsied inefiectual balk. 
 
 Pressed beneath Etna's rock-root, whereabove. 
 
 Under the summit, at his forge unseen, 
 
 Hephaestus sits, hammering the massive ore. 
 
 Thence one day shall break forth rivers of fire, 
 
 Devouring with all-devastating jaws 
 
 Fair-fruited Sicily's smooth acreage ; 
 
 Such turbulent wrath shall boil from Typhon's breast. 
 
 Though burnt to cinders by Zeus' thunder-bolt ! 
 
 But thou, let wisdom save thee, — thou know'st how — 
 
 Thy deep experience needs no counsellor ; 
 
 Let me wear out my bondage, till the heart 
 
 Of Zeus be lightened of its angry load. 
 
 Ocean. Yet know'st thou not, Prometheus, that wise 
 words 
 Are healers of the heart's distemperature ? 
 
379-396.] PROMETHEUS BOUND. 311 
 
 Prom. Yea, words in season soothingly addressed, 
 Not checking with crude force the heaving mind. 
 
 Ocean. But from wise care and daring well-bethought 
 What damage canst thou apprehend ? I would know. 
 
 Prom. I see in this naught but enormous folly 
 And trouble to no purpose. 
 
 Ocean. Let me suffer 
 
 Beneath that blame ; for to be wise, and seem 
 Futile and foolish, ofttimes serves one well, 
 
 Prom. I shall be credited with this offence. 
 
 Ocean. That argument is plain, and warns me home. 
 
 Prom. Your plaint for me would win you hatred there. 
 
 Ocean. Mean'st thou with him whose newly-stablished 
 throne 
 Is now almighty ? 
 
 Prom. Yea, with him. Beware, 
 
 If once his wrath be kindled. 
 
 Ocean. Thy sad plight, 
 
 Prometheus, is my beacon. 
 
 Prom. Then begone. 
 
 Let this thy wiser purpose hold. 
 
 Ocean. I go 
 
 Even while thy voice is ringing in mine ear ; 
 My wingfed quadruped begins to beat 
 Thin ^ther with wide pinion, and would fain 
 Repose him in the stable whence he flew. 
 
 \Exit OCEANUS. 
 
312 PROMETHEUS BOUND. [397-424- 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 I mourn, Prometheus, for thy ruinous woe. 
 And moisten all my cheek with warm soft rain 
 From sad eyes' overflow. 
 Past sufferance is the oppression and the pain ; 
 Since Zeus, by self-made laws ruling amain 
 'Gainst gods that once were great a conqueror's pride 
 doth show. 
 
 All lands send forth one universal groan, 
 Weeping thy goodness and thy brethren's glory 
 With loud resounding moan, 
 For your high pageants and your grandeur hoary : 
 Those mortals from the west begin the story 
 Whom Asia shelters near her sacred throne. 
 
 They too lament thy mournful plight, 
 That hold the well-fenced Colchian height, 
 A warrior host of maidens unsubdued. 
 And Scythian hordes, that range around 
 Mseotis' pool. Earth's utmost bound. 
 
 And wild Arabia's martial flower. 
 That hold the cliff-o'ertopping tower 
 Mid stern Caucasian solitude, 
 A serried front of spearmen good. 
 With war-whoop hard to be withstood. 
 
42S-4S8.] PROMETHEUS BOUND. 313 
 
 One Titan only heretofore I saw 
 
 With outrage infinite of gods opprest, 
 
 Atlas, on whose sustaining sinews rest 
 
 The heavens, that roll by Fate's resistless law. 
 
 But now thy doom the clashing waves resound, 
 
 The deep bewails it to the echoing shore, 
 
 Dark Hades mutters from Earth's pit profound, 
 
 And springs of sacred streams thy piteous pains deplore. 
 
 Prom. Misconstrue not my silence. 'Tis not pride. 
 Nor daintiness, but thought that tears my heart. 
 When I behold the scorn that spurns me here. 
 Yet who but I to these new deities 
 Gave and determined each prerogative ? 
 Of that I speak not ; for ye know it. But learn 
 How grievous were the woes of humankind, 
 Wherefrom I raised them, furnishing with thought 
 Their fancies infantile and reasonings crude. 
 I speak not this to offend them, but to prove 
 The richness of those blessings I bestowed. 
 They had eyes and saw not, ears and could not hear. 
 But mingled all things dreamwise hitherto. 
 Knowing naught of brick-framed homes, courting the 
 
 sun, 
 Nor woodcraft. But they dwelt, Uke the small ants, 
 In burrows underground. No certain sign 
 Had they of winter, or the flowery spring. 
 Or fruitful summer. All their works were wrought 
 Without perception, till I made them know 
 The risings of the Stars, and, more obscure, 
 
314 PROMETHEUS BOUND. [458-486. 
 
 Their settings. Furthermore, for their behoof, 
 My wit brought forth inventions hard and rare : — 
 Number, prime sovereign of all sciences, 
 Writing and spelling, and sage Memory, 
 That wonder-worker, mother of the Muse. 
 'Twas I that first to yoke and collar tamed 
 The servant steer, and to relieve mankind 
 From labours manifold, the docile steed 
 I drew beneath the well-appointed car, 
 Proud instrument of wealthy mortals' pride. 
 And none save I found for the mariner 
 His wave-o'er-wandering chariot, canvas-winged. 
 I, that devised thas gloriously for men, 
 Myself have no device to rid my soul 
 Of her sore burden ! 
 
 Cho. Thou art fallen indeed. 
 
 Far from thy height of wisdom and renown, 
 And like a skill-less leech, art in despair 
 To find the physic for thine own disease. 
 
 Prom. Hear further, and thy wonder will be more 
 At my wise means and shrewd contrivances. 
 This case was hardest. If a man fell sick. 
 There was no remedy, in shape of food. 
 Or draught, or unguent, but they pined away 
 For lack of medicines ; till, from my thought. 
 They learned to mingle kindly healing drugs, 
 That guard them from all illness. Then I drew 
 Clear lines for divination, and discerned 
 (Before all others) what from dreams is sure 
 To come to pass in waking, and I taught 
 
486-514.] PROMETHEUS BOUND. 315 
 
 The meanings dark of omen-bringing words, 
 
 And path-way tokens, and made plain the flight 
 
 Of taloned birds, both of good augury 
 
 And adverse, and the manner of their life, 
 
 With all the meaning of their enmities, 
 
 And mutual loves, and kind companionships. 
 
 What the smooth surface and the divers hues 
 
 Of the entrails signify, which pleases most 
 
 The Powers, I taught them ; and the liver's lobe 
 
 And gall, by what strange shapes they tell of good ; 
 
 Then, passing through the fire the beast's long chine 
 
 And thigh-bones wrapped in fat of sacrifice, 
 
 I cleared the way for mortals to an art 
 
 Hard of discernment, and made bright and plain 
 
 Fire-auguries, heretofore obscure and blind. 
 
 Enough of them ! Lastly, beneath the ground 
 
 What hidden benefits remained for men, 
 
 Copper and iron ore, silver and gold, 
 
 Who else revealed than I ? None but a fool 
 
 And babbler e'er would boast it. In one word. 
 
 Know this ; — Prometheus gave all arts to men. 
 
 Cha. Blessing mankind beyond their destined bound. 
 Neglect not, hapless one, thine own distress. 
 I still have hope that, freed from this thy bond. 
 Thou shalt have strength to cope with the Most High. 
 
 Prom. Not so. Not yet. All consummating Fate 
 Ordains this otherwise. When countless woes 
 And agonies have bowed me, — not till then, — 
 These bonds shall leave me. Art is feebler far 
 Than Destiny. 
 
3i6 PROMETHEUS BOUND. [515-538- 
 
 Cho. But who of Destiny- 
 
 Controls the helm ? 
 
 Prom. The Fates of triple form, 
 
 And unforgetting Furies. 
 
 Cho. Then is Zeus 
 
 Feebler than these ? 
 
 Prom. He will ne'er avoid his doom. 
 
 Cho. What doom hath Zeus but evermore to reign ? 
 
 Prom. Ye trench on mysteries : inquire no more. 
 
 Cho. Some deep dread secret must thy silence veil. 
 
 Prom. Dwell on some other theme. The hour for 
 this 
 Is not yet come, that I should utter it. 
 Nay, I must wrap it closely with all heed. 
 For herein lies my vantage for release 
 From ignominious bonds and agonies. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 May All-Disposing Zeus ne'er set 
 
 His might to crush my heart's desire ! 
 
 Ne'er may I loiter nor forget, 
 
 When bulls are slain at the altar-fire. 
 
 Daily before the gods to go, 
 
 That feast beside the quenchless flow 
 
 Of my great Sire ; nor once offend 
 
 In word ! May this true tinct hold to my being's end ! 
 
 'Tis sweet the life thus to prolong 
 In peace without alloy of fear, 
 Feeding a spirit fresh and strong 
 
538-563-] PROMETHEUS BOUND. 317 
 
 With tranquil hope and hghtsome cheer. 
 
 But, ah ! I shudder at the sight 
 
 Of thee, and thine afflicted plight, 
 
 Prometheus, who, in care for man. 
 
 Defying Heaven's high Lord, art fallen beneath his ban. 
 
 wasted kindness ! What resource 
 Lay with frail mortals ? Didst not see 
 Their dreamlike strength, their nerveless force 
 Fettered with blind infirmity ? 
 
 Dear friend, declare it ! Shall the power 
 
 Of creatures creeping for an hour 
 
 By wisdom overpass the bound 
 
 The mind of Zeus hath fixed their little lives around ? 
 
 Never ! I read it in thy fall. 
 My life shrills forth a different lay 
 From that which in mid-festival 
 
 1 chanted on thy wedding day, 
 Leading our sister's marriage quire, 
 Child of the self-same Ocean-sire, 
 Hesionfe, whom thou didst guide 
 
 Home with rich gifts to be thy blissful bride. 
 
 Enter lo. 
 
 lo. What land, what people is here ? Ah me ! 
 Rock-fast in fetters, whom do I see ? 
 What sin called forth the avenging storm 
 That wrecked and ruined that godlike form ? 
 
3i8 PROMETHEUS BOUND. [564-591. 
 
 Yet in pity for one travel-wearied, say- 
 Where I am come in my wandering way. 
 Ah ! ah ! Again 
 
 That fly is stinging ! Woe is me ! That phantom ! 
 Hide him, O Earth ! 'Tis Argus, born of thee, 
 To herd this heifer with his myriad eyes. 
 The sight appals me. There ! with crafty looks 
 He glides, though dead, yet seen above the ground. 
 Forth of the shades, a shadow, he pursues me, 
 And like a huntsman tracks my wandering feet, 
 As, hunger-smitten, I roam the brine-washed sand. 
 
 Meanwhile his wax-framed reed, still as we move. 
 
 Drones gently forth a drowsy-making strain ; 
 
 Ah me ! for pity, whither must I rove ? 
 
 What windings of my travelled course remain ? 
 
 What sins of mine, O Cronos' son. 
 
 Must I with these fell woes atone ? 
 
 Why doth thy wrath afflict me here. 
 
 Sting-driven and maddened with dire fear ? 
 
 Burn me with fire, hide me in Earth away, 
 
 Or to Sea-monsters yield me for a prey : 
 
 O to these prayers relent ! 
 
 Enough of chastisement, 
 Enough of weary wandering far and wide 1 
 Yet from encircling woes no path may be descried. — 
 Hear'st thou the heifer-hornM maid's complaint? 
 
 Prom. The child of Inachus, the sting-vexed virgin. 
 For whom the heart of Zeus is hot with love. 
 
59I-6I9-J PROMETHEUS BOUND. 
 
 319 
 
 But Hera hates her, and now drives her far, 
 Travelling perforce in unexampled ways. 
 
 lo. Whence should my father's name be voiced of 
 thee? 
 Tell me, the travel-wearied, who thou art. 
 That in thy woes thus truly hailest me, 
 The woeful ; yea, and hast described the smart 
 And heaven-sent plague, that onward still. 
 Pursued by Hera's ruthless will, 
 Speeds me with gadfly's maddening goad, 
 An-hungered, on a storm-driven road. 
 Bounding I came, withered at heart. What soul 
 Hath sorrow like to those that o'er me roll ? 
 Then to me clearly show 
 What more remains of woe. 
 Or, if thou canst, declare what remedy. 
 What ending of my plague may be devised for me. — 
 O let the weary maiden-wanderer know ! 
 
 Prom. All thou wouldst learn I will declare to thee, 
 Not weaving riddles, but in simple phrase, 
 And frankly, as beseems the friendly tongue. 
 Thou seest Prometheus, giver of fire to men. 
 
 lo. O bold Prometheus, universal boon 
 To mortals, what offence atonest thou here ? 
 
 Prom. I have newly ended telling o'er my woes. 
 
 lo. Then wilt thou not vouchsafe me one request ? 
 
 Prom. Declare it. Nothing would I hide from 
 thee. 
 
 lo. Name him who fastened thee to this rude cleft. 
 
 Prom. The counsel of high Zeus, Hephaestus' hand. 
 
320 PROMETHEUS BOUND. [620-647. 
 
 lo. In forfeit for what error ! 
 
 Prom. Hold, no more ! 
 
 I have told enough. 
 
 lo. Nay ; yet reveal to me 
 
 The time and limit of mine own sad way ! 
 
 Prom. 'Tis best unknown. 
 
 lo. Withhold not, but reveal 
 
 My future destiny. 
 
 Prom. Nay, I grudge thee not. 
 
 lo. Why then delay'st thou to declare the whole ? 
 
 Prom. This lothness comes not of an envious mind ; 
 But I would spare the torment of thy heart. 
 
 lo. Tender me not more dearly than I would. 
 
 Prom. Art thou so eager ? Hear, then ; I will tell. 
 
 Cho. Stay. Let us too partake of pleasure here. 
 First let us understand her piteous lot, 
 From her own mouth, relating her distress ; 
 Then let her learn from thee her toils to come. 
 
 Prom. lo, this kindness would come well from thee 
 Unto these maids, true sisters of thy sire. 
 'Tis ever worth expense of tedious time 
 There to tell over and bemoan one's grief 
 Where the auditor rewards one with a tear. 
 
 lo. Your joint command how should I disobey ? 
 All ye inquire for shall be clearly told. 
 Yet shame comes o'er me, even while I speak 
 Of that which brought the ruin of my form, 
 The god-sent wintry storm, that still I rue. 
 Night-visions ever hovering by my bower, 
 Flattered with smooth seductive words, " Blest maid. 
 
648-673.] PROMETHEUS BOUND. 321 
 
 Why stayest thou yet a virgin, when the Highest 
 Offers thee bridal ? Zeus hath felt the heat 
 Of longing for thy charms, and would enjoy 
 The rite of love with thee. Then spurn not thou^ 
 Daughter, the couch Divine, but hie thee forth 
 To Lerna's meadow, rich with herb and flower. 
 Near to the flocks and herdstalls of thy sire. 
 And still this passion of the sovran eye." 
 Afflicted with such dreams, night after night,, 
 I pined at heart, till in despair I told 
 My father of these visions of my sleep. 
 He many a sacred mission then despatched 
 To Pytho and Dodona both, to learn 
 How best to satisfy the Power supreme. 
 They still returned with riddling vague reports 
 Of oracles uncertain and obscure. 
 Till at the last to Inachus there came 
 An utterancfe unmistakable and clear, 
 Commanding him to thrust his daughter forth, 
 lo, from home and fatherland, to range 
 A thing devoted, through Earth's farthest bounds. 
 If he refused, the fire-eyed lightning-bolt 
 From Zeus should come, and blast his race to naught. 
 Moved by such prophecy from Phoebus' mouth. 
 Against his will and mine he drove me forth, 
 And barred his doors to me. Naught but the curb 
 That swayed him from the Highest, could have com- 
 pelled 
 That father's heart to this. Then, instantly, 
 My shape was altered and my mind distraught. 
 
322 PROMETHEUS BOUND. [674-700. 
 
 And horned, as ye behold me^ with sharp stings 
 From the ox-fly, bounding in my frenzied mood, 
 I darted toward' Cenchrea's cooling streams 
 And Lerna's fountains. And along my path 
 A giant form kept pace, Argus, earth-born, 
 The heifer's herdman, of untempered rage. 
 His thick-set eyes peering where'er I trode. 
 Him sudden fate, unlooked for, robbed of life, 
 But I, still goaded by the maddening fly. 
 From land to land am driven by heavenly power. 
 My past is told thee. Now, if thou canst tell 
 What sorrow yet awaits me, make it known, 
 Nor out of pity soothe me with false tales. 
 No pest more baneful than dissembling breath. 
 
 Cho. Hold ! enough ! let me breathe ! I had never 
 divined 
 Word so monstrous should pierce through mine ears to 
 
 my mind, 
 Or my spirit within me be utterly chilled 
 With keen-edged afflictions that dazzle the view. 
 Heart-harrowing horrors that freeze through and through 
 The sour such recital hath thrilled. 
 I am shuddering (ah Destiny ! ah cruel Fate !) 
 Since I witnessed of lo the god-ruined state. 
 
 Prom. You groan too soon, and overflow with fears. 
 Stay till you learn her sorrows yet to be. 
 
 Cho. Speak ; tell them forth. 'Tis sweet for those in 
 pain 
 To explore the future of their misery. 
 
 Prom. Your former boon hath lightly been fulfilled : 
 
701-729.] PROMETHEUS BOUND. 323 
 
 From lo's self ye have heard her previous woe. 
 
 Now learn what follows^ what a load of grief 
 
 Hera hath yet to inflict on this young maid. 
 
 Thou, child of Inachus, give inmost heed 
 
 To my discourse, that throughly thou mayst know 
 
 Thy journeyings and their end. — First turn thy steps 
 
 From hence toward the sunrising, and tread 
 
 O'er unfilled acres, till you near the tribe 
 
 Of nomad Scythians, whose cane-wattled homes 
 
 Are mounted high on well-appointed wheels ; 
 
 Avoid their company, skirting the surf 
 
 Of roaring brine, and pass from yonder land, 
 
 To where upon your left a people dwell. 
 
 The fierce Chalybeans, forgers of the steel, 
 
 Whom strangers durst not tempt. Of them beware. 
 
 The river of Tumult, faithful to his name, 
 
 Ford not, for he is not to be essayed, 
 
 Till even to very Caucasus thou come. 
 
 Loftiest of mountains, from beneath whose crown 
 
 The river spouts his strength. Over that peak, 
 
 Star-neighboured, on a track facing the noon, 
 
 Thou shalt advance, and find to welcome thee, 
 
 And guide thee gladly onward, the strong host 
 
 Of Amazons, man-hating, man-abhorred, 
 
 Who, long years hence, shall make their dweUing-place 
 
 At Themiscyra, round Thermodon's stream, 
 
 Where juts into the deep the cruel jaw 
 
 Of Salmydessus, cursed of mariners, 
 
 Ill-famed for harbourage, stepmother to ships. 
 
 Next, where the sea's great plain is narrowed in 
 
324 PROMETHEUS BOUND. [730-756- 
 
 To a gate of exit, comes the point of land 
 
 Named of the Cimbrians. With a dauntless breast 
 
 Leave that, and ferry the Maeotian strait. 
 
 This feat shall earn thee mighty fame from men, 
 
 And where the heifer passed, the mystic name 
 
 Of Bosporos shall linger evermore. 
 
 So shalt thou leave broad Europe and arrive 
 
 On Asia's boundless continent. — Say ye, 
 
 Seems not this lord of gods to all alike 
 
 Impartial in his ruthless violence ? 
 
 In lust supernal for this mortal girl 
 
 He hath thus oppressed her with sore journeyings. 
 
 Thy wooing, damsel, hath prepared for thee 
 
 No light affliction. Think of what is said 
 
 Barely as prelude to thy tale of woe. 
 
 lo. O me ! Alas ! woe, woe ! 
 
 Prom. Again thou clamourest with lowings loud. 
 What wilt thou do, when thou know'st all thine ill ? 
 
 Cho. Hast thou then more of sorrow for her ear ? 
 
 Prom. A storm-vexed sea of fateful agony. 
 
 lo. O wherefore should I live ? Why not at once 
 Fling myself headlong from this craggy scaur ? 
 So, dashed upon the ground, I should dispel 
 All troubles. Better once for all to die, 
 Than all one's days to pine in misery. 
 
 Prom. Full hardly couldst thou bear my sufferings. 
 For whom this fate is fixed — " Never to die." 
 That were indeed a riddance from all ill. 
 But now no limit is appointed me 
 Of torment, till Zeus fall from his high throne. 
 
757-785J PROMETHEUS BOUND. 325 
 
 To. Zeus fall ! Comes there a time when that may be ? 
 
 Prom. 'Twould gladden thee, I trow, to see that day. 
 
 lo. Most surely, since from him are all my woes. 
 
 Prom. Then be assured the very truth is so. 
 
 lo. What hand shall wrest from him the staff of power ? 
 
 Prom. His own vain counsel, lorn of wisdom's light. 
 
 lo. In what wise ? tell me, so it bring no harm. 
 
 Prom. Winning a bride, whose wedding he shall rue. 
 
 lo. Of Heaven or Earth ? If not forbidden, tell. 
 
 Prom. Inquire no more. 'Tis not to be revealed. 
 
 lo. Shall his new consort oust him from his throne ? 
 
 Prom. Their son shall be more puissant than his sire. 
 
 lo. And may he not avoid that overthrow ? 
 
 Prom. Only when I, delivered from my bonds — 
 
 lo. Who can deliver thee without his will ? 
 
 Prom. Offspring of thine is destined to that deed. 
 
 lo. How ? Shall my son release thee from thy pain ? 
 
 Prom. Thy progeny, but thirteen times removed. 
 
 lo. Doubtful and dark is that last oracle. 
 
 Prom. Yea. Seek not to know further thine own ill. 
 
 lo. Of kindness offered, disappoint me not. 
 
 Prom. Of two recitals I will grant thee one. 
 
 Jo. What are they ? Signify, and let me choose. 
 
 Prom. Choose, then, if I shall tell thy future toil. 
 Or my deliverer. 
 
 Cho. One of these to her, 
 
 To us the other boon vouchsafe, nor scorn 
 Our craving for discourse. To her disclose 
 Her coming pilgrimage ; to us reveal 
 Who shall release thee. That we long to hear. 
 
326 mOMETHEVS BOUND. [786-807. 
 
 Prom. Your zeal I will not frustrate, but declare 
 All that ye beg for. lo, first to thee 
 Thy fear-encountered rovings I will tell. 
 Inscribe them on thy chart of memory. 
 When thou hast crossed that current, which divides 
 Mainland from mainland, on a long straight road 
 Move toward the ruddy Orient, where the Sun 
 Leaves rich memorials of his morning tread, 
 [Till first thou come unto the gusty realm 
 Of Boreas' daughters. There take heed lest he. 
 The Storm-blast, snatching thee aloft from Earth, 
 On wintry whirlwind-wings bear thee away.J 
 
 ^F flff vk '9^ ^ 
 
 Then, passing those rude waves, thou shalt arrive 
 At far Cisthenfe's Gorgoneian plain. 
 Where dwell three maidens of mysterious age, — 
 Daughters of Phorcus, each one-toothed, and all 
 Sharing one eye. On them never the Sun 
 Looks with his radiance, nor the Moon by night. 
 Their form is swan-like. Next, their sisters three. 
 The Gorgons dwell, hated of mortal men, 
 Draped with long wings and fells of serpent hair — 
 Whom none of mortals may behold and live. 
 That garrison I bid thee mark full well. 
 Now hear another sight to chill thy blood. 
 I warn thee of the Griffons, hounds of Zeus, 
 Voiceless, but keen of fang : and the Arimasps, 
 One-eyed, of equine tramp, that live around 
 The stream of Pluto, flowing down with gold. 
 Come not thou near them. Last thou shalt arrive 
 
808-834.] PROMETHEUS BOUND. 327 
 
 At a far land and dark-complexioned brood 
 That live beside the fountains of the Sun. 
 There is the river ^Ethiops. Move on 
 Along his banks, till in your journeying 
 You reach the precipice, where cataract Nile 
 Sublimely from the Bybline mountains pours 
 His worshipped, kindly waters to the world. 
 He shall conduct thee to the three-nooked land 
 Of Egypt's Delta, where 'tis destined thee, 
 lo, to settle for thyself and thine. 
 Your long-continuing Argive colony.— 
 If aught I have said seem inarticulate 
 Or dark, return and question me thy filL 
 More leisure than I care to have, is mine. 
 
 Cho. If thou hast aught unsaid, or slighted o'er, 
 To tell her of her woful pilgrimage, 
 Speak further. But if all is done, give us 
 The boon we crave, as thou rememberest. 
 
 Prom. She hath heard all the limits of her way. 
 But for assurance to her doubting heart 
 I will relate her troubles to this hour. 
 In token that my testimony is true. 
 'Twere tedious to recount the whole at full. 
 I come to thy last fit of wandering. 
 Arrived at the Molossian plain, beneath 
 Dodona's lofty ridge, where stands the seat 
 And oracle of great Thesprotian Zeus, 
 Thou drewest near that wonder of the world, 
 The language-gifted oak, which hailed thee there, 
 Clearly and with no riddling voice, Famed wife 
 
328 PROMETHEUS BOUND. [835-860. 
 
 Of Zeus that wert to be. Thrill'st tliou at that ? 
 Thence, rapt anew with frenzy, thou wast borne 
 To Rhea's deep bosom by the shoreward way, 
 Then backward with a wild rebound wast driven. 
 Wherefore that gulf and corner of the main 
 Shall bear the name Ionian to all time 
 In lasting record of thy devious road. 
 Be this a sign to thee, my reach of thought 
 Discerns more things than sense hath registered. 
 {To the Chorus.) Now to content you with my pro- 
 mised tale, 
 And finish, too, my talk with lo here. 
 Beginning where I ended. A town lies, 
 Canopus, at the limit of that land, 
 Close to the mouth and sand-bar of the Nile. 
 Therein shall Zeus restore thee to thy mind, 
 With dreadless hand touching thee, nothing more. 
 And thou shalt bear a son, dark Epaphus, 
 Named from the manner of his birth from Zeus. 
 The fruits of all the land that Nilus' flood 
 Makes rich with wide o'erflowings, shall be his. 
 A family, fifth in descent from him. 
 Of fifty children, most unwillingly 
 To Argos shall return, a female brood 
 Fleeing from wedlock with their nearest of kin, 
 First cousins of their blood, who with wild heat, 
 Like swooping falcons close behind the doves, 
 Will come in quest of marriage-bond forbidden. 
 But to those captors shall an Eye divine 
 Deny the persons of the maids — whom then 
 
861-886.] PROMETHEUS BOUND. 329 
 
 Pelasgia shall receive, when, in the night, 
 Men shall be quelled by female homicides 
 Sleepless and bold — for every woman there 
 Shall rob of life the man obtaining her. 
 Dyeing the two-edged dirk in his heart's blood. 
 Such love-rite may God send upon my foes ! 
 Howbeit, on© sister of the fifty there, 
 Charmed by desire and blunted in resolve, 
 Shall rather choose reproach of cowardice 
 Than guilt of murder, and shall spare her mate. 
 Her children in wide Argos shall be kings. 
 'Twere long to trace the sequel point by point. 
 But of that seed shall rise the hero bold. 
 The famous bowman, who from these my bonds 
 Shall set me free. Themis, the Titaness, 
 Mine ancient mother, told me this should be. 
 But how or by what means her prophecy 
 Shall find accomplishment, 'twere long to explain : 
 Nor if thou knewest, would it avail thee aught. 
 lo. Q horror untold ! Yet again, yet again, 
 I am smitten within by the nerve-rending pain 
 That maddens my spirit ; again I am stung 
 With the dart at whose forging no anvil hath rung : 
 My heart throbs and knocks at my fear-laden breast. 
 And mine eyeballs whirl round in a rage of unrest. 
 Under gales of wide frenzy I drift far astray. 
 While my tongue, uncontrolled, utters cries of dismay. 
 And words of distraction, that turbidly beat all in vain 
 Against billows, that gloomily threaten and thunder 
 from Destiny's main. \Extt lo. 
 
^3° PROMETHEUS BOUND. [887-913. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Wisdom and truth were on his lips who first 
 Proclaimed 'twere best to find an equal mate, 
 
 Nor, being of poor estate. 
 Yearn for a match with one in wealth immersed 
 And pampered, or of lineage proud and great. 
 
 O never may I couch with Zeus most high. 
 Nor wed with one descended from the sky ! 
 
 The man-lorn maidenhood 
 Of lo wakes my terror, who must rove 
 This rueful maze, victim of Hera's mood. 
 
 From modest marriage with my peer 
 I shrink not with unworthy fear. 
 
 But let no eye above 
 
 Pierce me with fateful love ! 
 Vain then to struggle, fond to fret. 
 Self-tangled in the baffling net : 
 
 How might I hope to fly 
 
 The intent of Zeus most high ? 
 
 Prom. Yet shall the Highest, though stubborn be his 
 will, 
 Prove lowlier-minded, through the marriage-bond 
 He purposeth. For it shall hurl him down 
 From power supreme to nothing. Then shall come 
 To full accomplishment the father's curse 
 Cronos cried forth in falling from his throne 
 Of primal sovereignty. To avert this doom 
 
9I4-94I-] FROMETHEUS BOUND. 331 
 
 No god but I can point him the sure way. 
 I know each turn thereof. Then let him reign 
 Securely, trusting to his thunder's noise 
 And wielding there aloft his lightning brand ! 
 Naught shall they warrant him from that sure fall, 
 Intolerable, unhonoured, unreprieved. 
 So dire a wrestler he himself provides 
 Against himself, a portent huge in might. 
 The weapons of whose forging sliall o'er-blaze 
 His lightning and outblare his thunder-blast. 
 And the new sea-god's spear, the trident dread, 
 Poseidon's arm that plagues the stricken lands 
 With earthquake, shall be shattered by his power. 
 Zeus, foundering on that rock, shall fathom then 
 What space divides the ruler from the slave. 
 
 Cho. You word your wishes against Heaven's high' king. 
 
 Prom. My wishes, and the truth of what shall be. 
 
 Cho. Must we then look for one the lord of Zeus ? 
 
 Prom. Harder than homage shall his service prove. 
 
 Cho. How canst thou talk so rashly, and not fear? 
 
 Prom. Why should I fear, since death is not for me ? 
 
 Cho. May he not doom thee to some pain more dire ? 
 
 Prom. Let him ! Naught can surprise me, who fore- 
 know. 
 
 Cho. Wisdom bids bow before the inevitable. 
 
 Prom. Ay, bend and worship, fawn upon the strong ! 
 Less than the least care I for Zeus's will. 
 Let him employ his strength even as he may. 
 For this brief hour. His reign will soon be o'er. — 
 But soft, behold yon errand-boy of Zeus, 
 
332 PROMETHEUS BOUND. [942-965- 
 
 Courier of him new-stablished on Heaven's throne ! 
 Strange must the message be that brings him here. 
 
 Enter Hermes. 
 
 Henn. Thou, whom rash wisdom and rebellious hate 
 Uphold in sinning 'gainst the sons of Heaven, 
 Dispensing their prerogatives to men 
 Who are born and die, frail creatures of an hour, 
 Thou thief of fire, — the Father bids thee tell 
 What marriage 'tis thou vauntest, or what hand 
 Forsooth must hurl him from his place of power. 
 This, in no riddling language, but with terms 
 Exact and plain, make known. Compel me not, 
 Prometheus, twice to trace a tedious road. 
 Thou seest, Zeus is not thus propitiated. 
 
 Prom. Proud, as beseems the minister of gods. 
 And nobly-sounding is that high command. 
 Young gods, young pride of unproved majesty ! 
 Ye think, your eminent seats shall ne'er have pain. 
 Have I not from those very towers beheld 
 Two monarchs headlong hurled ? Ay, and erelong 
 The third, who now hath lordship unalloyed. 
 Will follow. I shall see it with mine eyes. — 
 Deem'st thou these youngling deities o'erawe 
 And daunt me ? That rehgion fails me quite. 
 So, scurry back again the road thou earnest ! 
 None of thy queries shall be solved by me. 
 
 Herm. This haughty spirit and reckless speech of 
 thine 
 Have landed thee where now thou art in woe. 
 
966-988.J PROMETHEUS BOUND. 333 
 
 Prom. I would not change it for thy servitude. 
 Better to mourn than be a lackeying slave. 
 
 Herm. Better, forsooth, be bound to yonder rock, 
 Than serve the Highest with faithful ministry ! 
 
 Prom. Insult for insult, ye but reap your due. 
 
 Herm. You wanton in your present plight, methinks. 
 
 Prom. Such wantonness may all mine enemies 
 Luxuriate in : and thou among the rest ! 
 
 Herm. What blame bear I for thy calamities ? 
 
 Prom. One word for all. I hate the race of Heaven, 
 That meet my benefits with acts of wrong. 
 
 Herm. What madness past belief thy words disclose ! 
 
 Prom. If hatred of a cruel foe be madness, 
 Let me be mad. 
 
 Herm. Unbearable wert thou, 
 
 If fortune favoured thee. 
 
 Prom. " Fortune ? " Ah me ! 
 
 Herm. That cry Zeus never syllabled. 
 
 Prom. Not yet ; 
 
 Wait till the hour be ripe. Time perfects all. 
 
 Herm. Time hath not taught thee prudence. 
 
 Prom. Else I had ne'er 
 
 Held converse with a servile minister. 
 
 Herm. Our Father's best will not be satisfied 
 By word from thee, I doubt me. 
 
 Prom. Deep the debt 
 
 Compliance from my lips would render him ! 
 
 Herm. You have bantered me as if I were a child. 
 
 Prom. And art thou not more childish than a child. 
 Looking from me to reap intelligence ? 
 
334 PROMETHEUS BOUND. [989-1015. 
 
 No torment, no device of the Most High 
 Shall move these lips to utterance, till he loose 
 These tyrant bonds of harsh indignity. 
 Then let his darted lightning singe the world ; 
 With rumbling earthquake and white fluttering snow 
 Let him confound and choke all things that are ! 
 Yet naught hereof shall bring me to reveal 
 Whom Fate prepares to work his overthrow. 
 
 Herm. Look to thy speech ! Think'st thou to mend 
 thy lot ? 
 
 Prom. Long since I have looked at more than thou 
 hast seen. 
 
 Herm. Vainglorious being ! Bring thyself at last 
 To take true measure of thy misery. 
 
 Prom. Thou lessonest me as idly as thou mightest 
 With suasive words control the mounting wave. 
 Never imagine it, that I, in fear 
 Of His resolve, will play the woman's part. 
 With meek uplifting of my suppliant hands 
 To entreat His favour whom my soul abhors 
 For liberty from bondage. Far from me 
 Such base humility ! 
 
 Herm. My words are vain 
 
 And would be, were they multiplied. No prayer 
 Can melt or soften thee, who, like a colt 
 New-harnessed, art reluctant to the rein, 
 And plungest with untempered vehemence. 
 Weak is thy wisdom there, since will alone. 
 Without true thought, is worse than impotent 
 Yet see to it, what a hurricane of woe 
 
IOIS-I044-] PROMETHEUS BOUND. 335 
 
 With wave on wave, shouldst thou reject my word, 
 
 Assails thee unavoidable. The Sire 
 
 With thunder and the flash of lightning-flame 
 
 Shall cleave this craggy glen, and hide thy form 
 
 Closed in Earth's rocky arms. So shalt thou dure 
 
 An age-long time, then back return to light : 
 
 When the fell eagle, wingfed hound of Zeus, 
 
 Shall pounce on thee and tear thy shattered frame, 
 
 Repasting on that mighty wreck, a guest 
 
 Of every day, unbidden, and shall gorge 
 
 Upon thy liver, blackened with his beak. 
 
 Expect no end of that sore agony, 
 
 Till some one of immortal race be found 
 
 Willing to suffer in thy stead, going down 
 
 To Hades' rayless gloom and the dark depths 
 
 Round Tartarus. This being so, choose thy course. 
 
 No bluster of feigned menace fills thine ear. 
 
 But words of dreadful sooth. The lip of Zeus 
 
 Knows not to lie ; but to each syllable 
 
 Shall give, in the issue, dire accomplishment. 
 
 Scan then the path before thee, nor account 
 
 Self-will more comely than wise thoughtfulness. 
 
 Cho. Despise not Hermes' counsel when he pleads 
 Thou shouldst give o'er thy wilfulness and try 
 The path of prudence and true thought. Thou art wise— 
 'Twould ill become thy fame to err in this. 
 
 Prom. All he loudly proclaims I foreknew. To bear 
 wrong from a foe brings no shame. 
 Then be darted upon me in fury the pine-piercing 
 flame! 
 
336 PROMETHEUS BOUND. [1044-1070. 
 
 Let the calm Empyrean be fretted with thunder, fierce 
 
 agony shoot 
 Far through Ether with racking of tempest, and Earth 
 
 from her nethermost root 
 Rock with wind till she quake to her centre ; — wave 
 
 heaped upon wave with harsh roar 
 Disorder the stars in their courses, confounding the sea 
 
 with the shore \ — 
 At one cast let him fling me afar to black Tartarus, 
 
 cruelly whirled 
 As Necessity wills to Hell's uttermost depth, at the base 
 of the world : — 
 Yet he never can doom me to death. I shall live 
 evermore. 
 Herm. 'Tis the speech of a spirit diseased : but O ye 
 whose compassion would share 
 In the weight of his misery's burden, move quickly from 
 
 hence and beware. 
 Lest the crash of the bellowing thunder, no creature for 
 maidens to bind, 
 Crush the flower of your thought and for ever enfeeble 
 
 your mind. 
 Cho. Let thy voice utter counsel to move me, — not 
 this, I can never abide ! 
 Nor pervert wisdom's way with light breath. Come what 
 
 comes, I will stand at his side. 
 There to drink of the cup of his sorrow. Base treason 
 be far from my breast ! 
 Beyond other evils that evil I scorn and detest. 
 
1071-1093.J PROMETHEUS BOUND. 337 
 
 Herm. Yet remember the words of my warning, nor 
 caught in the meshes of ill 
 Cry on Fortune, or Zeus who decoyed you, since, led by 
 
 your own foolish will. 
 Spite of timely foreknowledge of sorrows, premonished 
 
 and not unaware 
 Nor blind, but with open-eyed madness, your souls will 
 be caught in the snare 
 Of the measureless net of destruction, and endless 
 despair. 
 Prom. 'Tis no longer a fable. The earth heaves and 
 rolls like a storm-troubled sea. 
 And the roar of her waves is deep thunder that momently 
 
 bursts at my side, 
 And the lightning's fierce spirals gleam vividly forth, while 
 
 in horrible glee 
 Many whirlwinds are wildly careering with columns of 
 
 dust far and wide. 
 All the winds leap to loveless contention, each blast by 
 
 his brother defied. 
 The sky and broad main in one chaos of turbid com- 
 motion are blent ; 
 And on me this assault from high Zeus, making awe where 
 
 it moves, hath been sent ! 
 O Themis, my mother, all-worshipped ! O Ether, that 
 rollest along 
 The light all inherit ! O Earth, thou beholdest my 
 wrong ! 
 
NOTES, 
 
 The figures refer to Dindorf's numbering of the lines, as given 
 approximately at the top of each page of the translation. 
 
 THE SUPPLIANTS. 
 
 Line 46. " Named of Fate.'' 'Eirac^os from i^i.TtTea6ai, " to 
 touch with the hand." 
 
 Line 78, "Our flower:'' *5i)3ai/-T€'\eoi' (Schutz). 
 
 Lines 162, 163. "Ah, Zeus, heal lo's ban and bane." I read — 
 5 Z^y, 'lovs *ia /irivtv 
 *luisTiv t' iK BecSv, k.t.A. 
 
 Line 189. "That sit in conclave here." 
 
 Twy 5' hryteviav Bewp, 
 Cp. infra, 354. 
 
 Here and elsewhere ayiivios seems to be a traditional epithet of 
 the Greater Gods, who are worshipped together in the public place. 
 The origin of the expression is uncertain. 
 
 Line 207 . " Firmly hold the wands ye bear.'' 
 fiTlXavrls S' ^ctu Kpdros. 
 
 I take firix'^y'll here to be the symbol of supplication, which was to 
 be their means of safety. Cp. supra, 22, ikctcSv €7xeipiSfois. 
 
 Line 248. "Warden of some shrine.'' Reading Triphv *Upov 
 fii05ov. (* M.S. riepov.) . 
 
 ' Lines 291 ff. Some lines of the following dialogue having been 
 lost, the arrangement of the persons is more or less conjectural. 
 
340 NOTES. 
 
 Line 319. "Of thrilling moment." I take this to be implied 
 in Trivao^ov — "wise," because of serious import. 
 
 Line 296. " And would prevent." The text here is corrupt, 
 and Mr. Tucker gives good reasons for not adopting Hermann's 
 emendation. 
 
 Line 336. "An honourable bond to friends were good." Read- 
 ing ovoiTo. Lit. "Who would complain of having friends for 
 masters ? " 
 
 Line 343. "I had naught to do," etc. Lit. (It would.be a 
 question of Justice) "if I had had a part in the matter from the 
 beginning." Others interpret (taking ^v as 3rd person sing.) : 
 " (Justice is on the side of those who fight for her :) Assuming that 
 a cause is just to begin with." Cp. below, 11. 372 fT. 
 
 Line 556. "The land of Aphrodite, rich in grain.'' Phcenicia 
 (according to the Scholiast, who is probably right). 
 
 Line 561. "Snow-storms." In the original there is an allusion 
 to Typlion that is hard to preserve. 
 
 Line 618. "Home and foreign mischief." "Home" because 
 the Danaides are of Argive race, "foreign" because Danaus was 
 an Egyptian citizen. So the Scholiast. 
 
 Line 708. "Third." The three commandments probably are — 
 
 1. Honour the Gods. 
 
 2. ,, ,, Heroes. 
 
 3. ,, your Parents. 
 
 See Plato's "Laws," iv., 717. According to others the three ob- 
 jects of homage are Gods, Parents, the Laws ; and rplrov only 
 means "one of three." 
 
 Lines 836 fT. " Hark to my warning, hark ! " Either the Herald 
 and the Danaides here are made to speak a barbarous tongue, or 
 the text of what follows is extremely corrupt. Some amount of 
 guesswork in the translation is unavoidable. 
 
 Line 821. ''This heaven-observing town 
 
 Smiles as we seize our own." 
 Reading (in default of anything better) — 
 
 ^TtTa tS/a* &y(0 'jr6\tv evffe^av. 
 I lead away mine own without incurring vengeance, as I offend 
 not against their city." 
 
NOTES. 341 
 
 Line 858. I propose to read — 
 
 *K?j. "A7eios cyi) PaBvxatas 
 fiaOeias ^aQeias 
 *yeficov' ah Se, k.t.\. 
 
 Line 950. "In these few words," etc. Reading •eo-tij' t£S' ^Sj), 
 
 K.T.A. 
 
 Line 1002. "Bidding Love wait not," etc. Reading — 
 K^aipa Kiahiovaa *'irpo(Tfi,4veiv *''Epaiv {i.e. "Epara). 
 
 THE PERSIANS. 
 
 Line 276, " From rock to jagged rock." I have not attempted 
 to render vKayKToTs ^v inrXaxeaaiv, which, according to Hermann, 
 means, " while their mantles float around them." I have given the 
 general drift of the passage as it is indicated by the Scholiast. 
 
 Lines 674 ff. Reading (perhaps)— 
 
 TL rdSe Sui/ard, Svyard, 
 irep} Tck fTa SiSvfia *5ia'Y0a.v afiapna 
 irdaq. y^ T^Se ; 
 *Cp. SioBvpofiai, 
 
 Line 816. "Unexplored." Reading *eK7riSi!6Tai (Schiitz). The 
 laying of the pavement {Kpviris) would be part of the work of re- 
 ducing the natural well-spring to order, for human uses, and so 
 curbing its wild exuberance. Cp. Plato, " Laws," 7, 808 D, irriyhv 
 rod tppove'iv ^li^ttw KaTTjpTvfiepr]VM 
 
 SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. 
 
 Lines 363 ff. "Find for their earliest grief." 
 KULvoT'fiiioyes. 
 In this and other expressions, which have been strangely misunder- 
 stood, ^schylus refers to the crushing effect of the first great 
 sorrow. Cp. Agam. 210 — 
 
 ■jrapaKOTr& irpaTOnTjfitcv^ 
 
342 NOTES. 
 
 In the lines which follow this, I read — 
 
 iivBphs evTvxovvTOs us 
 Suirfievovs {nrepTepav, 
 
 *^\TTI.a6,V *T6 VVKTfpOV Te'AOS ll.O\eiV, K.T.A., 
 
 supposing T\ifiii.ov€s to be a corruption of ?\8o>/[^s], and fvvav a 
 gloss on KeKrpov, the words having been accidentally transposed. 
 Line 437. " This blazon too." Reading koL rijiSe "fciia-fip (or 
 
 Line 578. " Polynices, fraught with strife;" i.e. noKmeUris. 
 Scil. & no\v-i/eiic7is. 
 
 Line 697. " More desired than death's delay." 
 irp6Tepov {/(Trepov fjt6pov. 
 Cp. Agam. 1254, 4 S' StrTards ye rov XP^""" Tpefffiev^Tai. 
 
 Line 787. "For their unfilial ways." The Scholiast on (Ed. 
 Col. 1375, is perhaps right in thinking that rpo<pas means "for 
 negligeiice about his food." But Hermann (with Schiitz) interprets, 
 " in anger that the children of such a union should have been 
 reared " ! What then of Antigone ? I read rexvois S' *aypias | icpTJKev, 
 *iniKOTos rpoipas, with Prof. E. L. Lushington. 
 
 Line 830. "Great in strife and true in fame.'" Reading — 
 *eT60«Aei6is Kai -TToKvveiKets. 
 
 AGAMEMNON. 
 
 [TAe translator's views on some difficulties in the " Agamemnon " 
 are given in the American Journal of Philology, i. 4.] 
 
 Line 70. "The powers that burn, but need no fire;" i.e. the 
 Erinnyes. This interpretation of airipuv UpSiv is supported by 
 Eumen. 138, ar/iip KaTi(Txvaivov(Ta, vri^ios irvpl . . . fidpaive, -ih. 
 305, KoL ^aiv fii Saia^is ofiSe irpbs ^a>n^ aipayils. But, although the 
 meaning is good, and is suggested by the Scholiast, it must be ad- 
 mitted that the sense given to Upav is somewhat strained. Yet the 
 suggestion of the Scholiast cannot be taken literally ; for the 
 Erinnyes appear to have been worshipped with burnt sacrifice 
 (Eumen. 108). Others refer the words to the sullenness of a 
 sacrifice that refuses to burn, as in Ant. 1006 ff. 
 
NOT£S. 343 
 
 Line 121. " But let the happier note prevail." ri S' eS viUtw. 
 Mr. James Riddell, the well-known author of the " Digest of 
 Platonic Idioms," used to insist, in lecturing on the " Agamemnon," 
 that the imperative must be so explained. 
 
 Line 144. "Doth yet accord her mind." Reading a KaXa and 
 alvGu 
 
 Line 224. " For the first shock of grief before unfelt." For 
 the meaning here assigned to ■npaToiri)iLav, see note on the " Seven 
 against Thebes," 11. 363 ff. (supra, p. 341). 
 
 Line 288. "The blazing pine.'' I retain tteukt), and read 
 *Trp<yS\vv<Tfv for trphs -ifSopiiv in the previous line, an emendation 
 which I find to have been anticipated by Symmons. 
 
 Line 314. " But here one runner," etc. 
 
 ytKot 5' 6 irparos Kal reXsvTaios Spa^v. 
 The runner is Hephsestus (see 1. 281), and as elsewhere in far- 
 fetched comparisons the point of difference, as well as of resem- 
 blance, is marked. In the ordinary KafivaSritpopla there were many 
 runners, and the man who succeeded in bringing in the torch was in 
 some way distinguished above the rest. In the present case, the 
 runner from first to last is the same Fire-god, whose " reward is with 
 him " all the way in the victorious tidings which he bears. Herodotus 
 makes a similar application of the idea of the torch race in describ- 
 ing the &yyapoi, ox post-run7'iers, of the King of Persia, viii. 98. The 
 historian (Herod, ix. 3) also attributes to Mardonius the intention 
 of signalling from Athens to Sardis by beacons on the islands 
 (irupffoTirt Sia vi\(Tav). For the actual use of fire signals in Greece, 
 see especially Herod, vii. 182. 
 
 Line 384. " Minded to hurl it into naught." Others join e7raA|is 
 , . . i\s a<j>iiy6iav — " A bulwark to hide or shelter him." 
 
 Line 407. " Argive prophets "... The exact significance of 
 S6/jLav irpo<l>rJTat is uncertain, but cp. infra, 1053, irpo^Tos 8' oUrivas 
 fiafTrevo/jLev. 
 
 Line 412. " Soul-stricken before that unremoved blot. " I read — 
 irdpecrTL *(r?y', &Ti/xos *a\\' aKoiSopoSt 
 *a\yi(rTa *in\iwvav *idiiiv, 
 with ott' alas 'EWdSos in the antistrophe. 
 
 Line 5l2. "Than of the blacksmith's art." x'^^""" 0acj>iis = 
 " The dipping (i.e. tempering) of metal," a mystery beneath the 
 dignity of a princess to understand. 
 
344 NOTES. ' 
 
 Line 6i6. "Thine ear, a plain interpreter." I believe ropolffiv 
 ifHrivivtri to be an ^schylean periphrasis for tols iiaiv, implying 
 that Clytemnestra's language at all events was plain (whatever her 
 meaning might be). 
 
 Line 637. " Heaven's honour should be clear." 
 
 For the opposition between Gods and Furies, see the " Eumenides,'' 
 and for the absence of the article, cp. Ant. 745, Ti.iji.is -ye ri.s Beuv 
 TrarStv. 
 
 Line 689. " War-wed, war-won, war-wakening Helene." 
 €\evaus, e\avSpos, e\4'irTa\ts. 
 The punning epithets expanded in this and the following lines, are 
 derived from €\e7v, a word which is often used with the meaning 
 " to quell ; " literally, " Queller of ships, of men, of cities." 
 Line 828. " Another, he had brought 
 
 Dishonour, worse even than his death." 
 rhv S' ^TTiifftpepetv Kaxov 
 
 KCLKIOV ^Wo TTTlfia. 
 
 This is said with a side-glance at Cassandra. 
 
 Line 871. "I pass 
 
 The abyss of ground beneath him. " 
 T^y kc£tq; yhp ov \eyc0. 
 Compare the " Seven against Thebes," 1. 924 — 
 iirh 8e a^fj-ari yas 
 ■jr\ovros a.^vfft7os eirrat. 
 
 Line 934. "Prompt is that reply." I read — 
 ^iSds y' ed t65* i^eiTrov ^rdxos. 
 Agamemnon, who has been in many hairbreadth escapes, is well 
 aware, and therefore admits without hesitation, that in an hour of 
 peril he might have vowed this or any other lavish expenditure by 
 way of thank-offering. 
 
 Line 1050. " The immigrant bird ; '' i.e. the swallow r x*'^'" 
 i6j/os. 
 
 Line 11 16. "Nay, 'tis the snare of the chamber, the acccessory 
 O' the murder." 
 &W' UpKvs 7) ^ivevvos, t\ |uyaiTia 
 ibivov. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 345 
 
 She sees in vision the contrivance with the help of which Agamem- 
 non was to be laid low. Vid. infra, 1492 flF. 
 
 K^ltrai 8' apdxvns ev v^afffxart t^ 5* 
 
 of HOI (Jioi, Koirav rdi/S' aveXeidepov. 
 Line 1 118. "Stone her!" If Xsuo-r^p can mean " one worthy 
 to be stoned," I do not see why KeiJ<nij.os may not have a passive 
 meaning. The exultation of the Krjpes is equivalent to a curse. 
 Hence /fOToAoAu^drw. 
 
 Line 1127. "With that black weapon of hers." As usual in 
 " second-sight," the objects seen are vaguely described. The sword 
 of -^gisthus, pointed at Agamemnon by Clytemnestra, is imagined 
 as the horn of the cow with which she gores the bull ; but, 
 being of iron or bronze, it is "black." Cf. Choeph. 576, ttoUksi 
 . . . X'«^KE"MaTi, Plato, Rep. ix. 586 B, KvpirTovTss a\\-fi\ovs aiZripots 
 Kepain. 
 
 Line 1266. " I tear ye." The pronoun in the Greek is singular 
 = "thee." She begins by taking off one specially sacred symbol. 
 
 Line 1172. "Shall fall in blood." iv irsSip fiaKw, i.e. ttc'Sij) 
 iji^aXw — a simple tmesis. For iii.&&KKiiv with dat. = "to fall 
 violently against," cp. Her. ii. 28, ifi^dWovros rov SSaros Totai 
 oUpetri. 
 
 Line 1278. "That ends the sacrifice." irp6<r^ayna here and 
 elsewhere seems to be written for Trp6aiT(payiia, i.e. the sacrifice of a 
 victim over a grave — death added on to death. 
 
 Line 1284. " His father's fall." vTrTia(rp.a is a difficult word. 
 It may recall perhaps the uplifted hands of the dying man, as it 
 were appealing to Heaven. Cf. Prom. 1015, xmria(rii.aiTiv xipSiv, 
 and Choeph., 326 — 
 
 0T0T(J^6TOt S' 6 dvfjffKajVt 
 
 &va(l>aiv€Tai 5' 6 ^Xdimou. 
 
 Line 1300. " Every moment's respite hath some worth." 
 Lit. " The latest of the time is first in honour." 
 
 Line 1330. " This is more piteous than the ruin of pride. " The 
 fate of Cassandra touches the heart more nearly than the fall of 
 Troy, or than the death of Agamemnon which she prophesies. 
 
34'' NOTES. 
 
 Lines 1455 ^- These lines are gravely corrupted. I only jiro- 
 fess to render the general drift of them. I take it that Helen is 
 not directly accused, but that her case is compared to Clytem- 
 nestra's. 
 
 Line 1467. "Unendurable.'' o|uo'TaTos seems nearly = Sir\a- 
 Tos, from ^uyia-TiurBai, " to meet in conflict " (L. and .S. s.v. 
 ffuyia'TT]u.tj ii. 2). 
 
 Line 1468. " On either branch of Pelops' ancient line.'' 
 SupviouTL TavraKidataiy. 
 The exact genealogical reference of these words is obscure, unless 
 they may be referred to the two pairs of rival kings ; Atreus and 
 Thyestes in one generation, Agamemnon and Menelaus in the next 
 (or possibly Agamemnon and ^gisthus). 
 
 Line 1595- " He kept concealed." Reading *iKpvirT' &vtii9tv, 
 and punctuating KaSrifi<£vos. — 'Actt^/ak S' avriJov (sc. rav BoKrvKuy, 
 implied in the preceding Avords). 
 
 Line 1625. "Woman."' Clytemnestra may have been prepar- 
 ing to leave the stage at 1. IS77, but it is not likely that she has 
 quitted it. Her exit was prevented by the arrival of ^gisthus 
 with his guards. She meets this reproach with silence. 
 
 Line 1657. " Run in your appointed round." I read^ 
 irphs "yofiobs (others n-pbs *bp6fiaus) ■jreirptufj.eyovS' 
 
 CHOEPHORGE. 
 
 Line 154. " Where safely sleep souls good and ill." 
 nphs epi/jua rdSe KaKwv KeSy£y re. 
 For this interpretation, which I give with diffidence, cf. Job iii. 
 
 17. 18. 19- 
 
 The mingled good and evil of the dead Pelopidze was a natural 
 theme for the Trojan women to dwell upon. 
 
 In what follows, I take ^| a/iavpas <ppfv6s to refer to the feeble- 
 ness of the dead (until he has tasted of the libation), not to the 
 sadness of the living. Others, with Conington, understand it of 
 the Chorus, " Singing with a saddened mind." 
 
NOTES. 347 
 
 Lines 375 fT. "Meanwhile descends ... to endure." I take 
 this to be the drift of an obscure passage which is variously in- 
 terpreted. 
 
 Line 444. " Thou hearest," etc. : reading *ex«s (for Xeyn-i) 
 with Hermann. 
 
 Line 465. "Unskilful stroke, vexing a tuneless place." The 
 blows of calamity are compared to harsh strokes with the "plec- 
 trum " on a badly-strung lyre, calling forth sounds other than 
 musical. 
 
 Line 482. " Power to work ^Egisthus' woq." I am inclined to 
 read *Tuxe''' for (pvyeTv here. 
 
 Lines 573 ff. " Or should he come in afterward and stand 
 Before my face." 
 I read — 
 
 ^ ^/c&y ^oKijiiv gTreiTti fioi Kara (rrdfia 
 *07ra^ iiricrr-^ Kal Kar^ d(l>daK/j,ohs *<^av?7, 
 Wecklein, who retains the MS. reading, is compelled to assume 
 a violent trajection of <Ta.<j>' fo-fli, and to imagine ^gistlius lifting 
 and letting fall his eyes, — no man can tell why, — on seeing the 
 Phocian stranger. 
 
 Line 575. "Caught on my point of steel." The idea is that of 
 a dagger hidden under the cloak and suddenly brought round from 
 behind the victim. 
 
 Line 578. "A third libation." The first is the blood of Aga- 
 memnon, the second of .lEgisthus, the third of Clytemnestra, whom 
 he does not name. (According to others, first the banquet of 
 Thyestes, second the death of Agamemnon, and third the deaths of 
 ^gisthus and Clytemnestra. See the concluding lines of this 
 play. ) 
 
 Line 699. "For ever cancel it." I read *iicypd(peis. 
 
 Line 751. " At that great voice." Clytemnestra's in her travaiL 
 Others suppose the words to refer to the shrill wailings of the infant 
 Orestes. 
 
 Lines 783 ff. As the following ode and the next (1. 93S ff.) cannot 
 be regularly arranged without somewhat violent conjecture, I have 
 not thought it necessaiy to preserve strictly the antistrophic effect 
 ,in them. 
 
348 NOTES. 
 
 Line 1041. (Menelaus too). Menelaus is still absent, and his 
 return still looked for, as in the " Agamemnon." Part of two lines 
 is lost here, e.g. — 
 
 KoX fiapTvpsiv fioi jtteycAe [tuv XP^^V Tore 
 S6/JiOUS KaTe\66ifd''\ dts i-Kopffvi/dTj KaKd, 
 
 EUMENIDES. 
 
 Line 13. "Hephaestus' sons;" i.e., according to the Scholiast, 
 the Athenians descended from Efichthonius, son of Hephaestus and 
 Gaia. It is said that sacred embassies from Athens to Delphi were 
 accompanied by a band of pioneers. 
 
 Line 204. "Unheard of guilt." at/MTos Sektid/) veov. I take 
 veov here and infra, '1. 359 (" blood strangely shed "), to mean " un- 
 precedented." Others understand it to mean "fresh," i.e. not yet 
 atoned for. 
 
 Line 388. "Men seeing and blind." SepKo/isvoiai Kal Sv^o/i/ii- 
 Toir. The Scholiast understands "living and dead," — cp. supra, 
 1. 322 ; but will Sviroii/idTois bear this meaning ? 
 
 Line 435. "And parentage." Reading 'koit' affoji/, which 
 seems to be indicated by the Scholion oi|i'<oj/ ovtrav T'ove'ay. 
 
 Line 475. " I would have thee clear." Retaining atpov/iai. 
 
 Line 506. "Cries for help to the wandering air." Literally 
 ' ' suggests uncertain remedies " in his own case. This is the 
 meaning indicated by the Scholiast. Wecklein, perhaps rightly, 
 understands TA'nfi.av of the man who is asked for advice. 
 
 Line 715. " Wanton. " ou \ax<iv. Bloodguiltiness is the de- 
 partment of the Erinnyes, not of Apollo, the god of light. They 
 accuse him of encroaching on their prerogative. 
 
 Line 962. "Own sisters of our mother.'' liarpoKaaiyvriTai. 
 Others understand, " Our sisters by one mother," a less' natural 
 meaning for the word. It is unnecessary to harmonize ^schylus 
 with Hesiod on a point of mythology. Regarding Fate (as he does 
 in the " Prometheus") as independent of Zeus, he may have held 
 that the juoipoi were co-eval with Night. The Furies call them 
 apxaias, supra, 1. 728. 
 
 Line 988. " Perceive ye." Retaining ■(jpoi'oiiffiy with Hermann. 
 
NOTES. 349 
 
 PROMETHEUS BOUND. 
 
 [Page (295) line 32. " Prometheus the Fire-bringer.'' According to 
 some authorities this was not the first, but the third and con- 
 cluding play, representing the institution of the worship of 
 Prometheus in Attica.^ 
 
 Line 301. " Thy workmanship." This seems a possible mean- 
 ing of o«T(i/cTiTa = & aurJis eKTuras. Others understand it to mean 
 "self-made," i.e., of natural formation. 
 
 Line 331. " Though in mine enterprise thou too hadst part.'' 
 
 Prometheus had been alone, to begin with, in openly gainsaying 
 the plan of Zeus to destroy mankind (1. 234). But he could not have 
 prevailed single-handed, and in his after proceedings it now appears 
 that Oceanus was implicated. The sleepless one (1. 139) must have 
 known of the theft of fire, and at least connived at it. 
 
 Line 461. "... and sage Memory, 
 
 "That wonder-worker, mother of the Muse." 
 Reading p.vfi/j.Tjv *&*, airdvTwv fiouffofiTiTop^ ^pyaTtv. According to 
 others the meaning is that the invention of letters was the means 
 of recording everything, and so gave birth to the Muses. 
 
 Lines 791 ff. ["Till first thou come," etc. The lines here 
 bracketed represent a fragment, which some critics refer to this 
 place. At all events there is a lacuna before line 792, " Then, 
 passing those rude waves," etc. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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