PS 1679 .F33 P5 1916 PERSEPHONE ISAAC :FLAGG PERSEPHONE A Masque BY I SAAC Jt^LAGG PAUL ELDER AND COMPANY San Fbancisco ..<('^,.'b .h COPTBIGHT 1916 By Isaac Flagg / 3gI.A4;37571 PERSEPHONE A Masque PBIMTED AND BOUND BT TBE BOTCBOFTEB8 EAST ACBOBA, NEW TOBK ■ SCHEME ■ PROLOGUE Hermes I By the Borders of Ocean OcEANiDES Persephone Demeter II By the Grove of the Hamadryads and the Mansion made Desolate Demeter Selene Hamadryads III At the Home of Eumolpus in Eleusis Eumolpus Councillors An Aged Minstrel Callithoe Demo Demeter Metaneira Iambe Servants IV By the Entrance to the Lower World Hermes Pluto Persephone V By the House of Eumolpus Children Iambe Metaneira Callithoe Demo Eumolpus Councillors Demeter Iris EPILOGUE In the Temple at Eleusis [51 PERSEPHONE ■ PROLOGUES By the Borders of Ocean Hermes Between the bounds Of Hght and darkness my commission is To mediate, when from the vaulted heaven Some swift decisive errand by my hand The Father warrants for these nether worlds, Be his solicitude for brief transient lives Or the soul's final destiny in store. He wills, he nods. Then, as a falling star That scars the welkin with a chain of fire And mortals say. Behold ! there speaks a sign, So to terrestrial regions I dart down, As now. Or, sometime, to that lower realm, A ghostly monarch's yet unfear'd domain. It is a token touching both him and those Who own his sway not yet, that I this hour Bring from imperial heaven. — Nor need they see Nor listen, when thus some mandate I proclaim To the frail mortal dwellers of this sphere. Let but the fixt omnipotent will ordain. Then shall it surely find each human soul. [7] PERSEPHONE Unheard, yet shall it thrill them ; and their hearts Shall learn, not comprehending. 'T is as if. Planting intelligence with painless sting, The winged lightning spread the tidings wide In infinite direction. O, thrice blest ! If men but knew the bhss that wraps them now ; Moved they not all-unconscious through the years, As children hold no measure to compare And estimate their gladness. Even no name Find these for their own era of the world, Which with admiring envious regret Less happy cycles will look back upon And voice their praises of the Age of Gold. When every hour is golden, by what touch Of disillusion ; by what cunning mark Shall its transcendent quality be made known To the untroubled spirit? — A long dream More soft than slumber, brighter than the dawn That wakes on fresh dews of the starry night. In the unsuUied day's fulfilment merged. Not yet those designations fit the tongue Which through succeeding ages shall be rife. Envy, injustice, wrath and war. Not yet [8] PROLOGUE Are laws and punishments. No boundary stone Severs the fields. No bark defies the deep. They buy and sell not, seek no foreign shore. Not yet the ploughman's labor : earth unvext, Untill'd, unaided yields its increase. Full Flow its pellucid fountains ; while the vine Trailing luxuriant, purple-laden, lends A nectar 'd moiety. — Existence thus Begun, the end is easy. Life's supreme Crown of beatitude, euthanasy. Awaits their welcome : burthenless old age, Mellow'd and unrepining, fades in sleep. Nor deem the rest, that these though lost are gone. Not lost, though absent ; present, though unseen : Benign superior spirits hovering still In the same spotless world. Alas ! Of aeons, as of lives, there comes an end. Time and the message I voice now, confirm The fateful word, this Golden Age must pass ; By its successor dispossess'd, as when The sombre leaflet triumphs o'er the green. This day their sun to his last setting sinks, To greet no other unregretful morn, [9] PERSEPHONE No other scatheless passage through the hours. No more from toil and megrim free, content To bide the morrow, of its blessing sure, Shall each receive unsought his portion due Of nature's bounty ; nor unenvied hold That which his labor wins. Sorrow and joy In jalousied admixture fain to quaff From the same cup, such potion they will deem Tolerable, be not the bitter share Pour'd in excess. Strange phantoms of disease, Ill-boding choir, will chant a shrill refrain, With ceaseless menace, at the doors of all Doom'd to be born hereafter. Now no more Shall painless dissolution smooth the seam Marking pale memory's hardly sunder'd tie ; But in their prime, or youth, or infancy One from another rudely snatch'd, full oft. As the frail sapling by fierce whirlwind snapt. Shall loved ones out of loving arms be torn ; While vainly into the darksome gulf, that yawns Beyond the funeral-pile, each frantic cry Of prayerful lamentation shall be flung, — To him, the pitiless, the inexorable. Saddest of litanies — nor like to those Which, not unanswer'd, unto us betimes [10] ■ PROLOGUE ■ With mourning shall ascend. It was a need Of mediation 'twixt the visible world And shadow'd mystery — a concession due To powers that shall unheeded dwell no more, Moved the supernal ruler to decree The passing of an unconscious happy age Into the troublous phase of care and strife, Wonder and doubt and strange bewilderment, With glimmering hopes suffused ; to guide the soul By thoughtful stages of inquietude Along the mortal journey to its bourn. Wayfaring nobler than, rapt, with no gauge, No touchstone of comparison, so to live As if they lived not. Now shall men be led To seek and never find ; to crave, to yearn Without possessing ; to question, but not know. Nor can attainment or dull respite follow, To pall the spirit with complacent pride. Here, where the sleepless stream* Of coiling Ocean, in broad cincture clasp'd About the medial earth, murmurs response To light airs by its margent stealing ; mirrors [11] PERSEPHONE Each fleecy cloud ; and laps this shelving strand Starr'd with gay blossoms of eternal spring ; — Here, nigh to yonder cliff, whereby even now Perchance grim terror lurks : — hither will point Back solemnly through immemorial years Tradition's finger, while ten-thousand tones Of rapt, inspired minstrelsy resound In every clime, this scene to celebrate. Spread for the mystic union of two worlds — Scene of Life beauteous, blithesome, innocent, Wedded to Death ! Nathless, not all in vain. Mother divine, shall the sad torches burn To light the agonized, far-roaming quest Of thy bereavement ; nor quite fruitless fall The scourge of thy displeasure on the fields ; When, by that barren spectacle of woe And image of thyself disconsolate To pious intervention moved, the Father (My faithful heralding invoked again) Wrests from reluctant Erebus the bride Seized as for sole possession : now as twain. Alternate solace of the one-half year. In equal sharing to thy bosom press'd. [12] PROLOGUE O fortunate, benignant resting-place And harbor to that wandering search forlorn ; Chosen recipient of profoundest lore. Won from renascent nature's grateful hand, Happy Eleusis ! — whose fane, consecrate To the half-rescued and the half -consoled, Mother and Daughter, shall conserve and guard, Closing religious lips with seal of gold, Their secret, who from mystic visions reap Hopes that are sweeter ; from the awakening, through The great transition, to the end unseen. The hour draws nigh. The conscious soil awaits Pressure of lightsome footsteps ; and each flower, With melancholy chalice, droops and leans ; As by divine anticipation prone To yield its being up beneath the touch Of fair immortal fingers. — Hark ! what strain Of virginal voices this way floating breathes Faint symptom of approach? Ye nymphs of Ocean, Parent sublime, how fittingly your choir Surrounds the sweet Earth-daughter ; whilst not far, LuU'd to forgetful, unsuspecting sleep, The Mother rests ; nor should in dreams surmise 113] PERSEPHONE ■ Peril mid those of her own impulse born, Iris and crocus, violet, hyacinth ; And ah ! fair tempter, charged with deathly spell, Narcoma — thou the lure, narkissos. O ! Too lovely emblem, fated to recall The passing of this hour. Now it behooves To spurn the disc of dull, inferior earth. Which the wing'd sandal hath not scorn'd to tread Thus long, and seek ethereal spheres, unchoked By the thick air of time and circumstance. Ascend ! ascend ! [Exit] [14] PERSEPHONE By the Borders of Ocean ; as in Prologue OcEANiDES Persephone Demeter The lay of the Ocean Nymphs is sung behind the scenes by their Leader, with refrain by all in unison. (Song) When oft these thoughts it may beseem To crave the sanction of our sire, Emerging from his quenchless stream Gladly I lead my tuneful choir J With earthly spirits join'd in glee, I Demeter and Persephone. Their smiling meadows comelier lie, ^ Whose edge our father's eddies lave, Than pearls with crimson coral vie Beneath his green translucent wave : When the twain wander here with me, Demeter and Persephone. Gay chaplets to their brows we bind Of flowers with sweetest fragrance fraught. For ring-round dances deftly twined To us by circling waters taught ; [15] PERSEPHONE ( Nor they less frolicsome than we, 1 Demeter and Persephone. The while in turn for us they make Light airs through piny verdure play, Aeolian melodies awake In answer to my roundelay ; As ours their bounding pulses free, Demeter and Persephone. Soon as yon cloud's soft splendor yields To deepening shades of dusky eve, What powers caress the willing fields? Persuade each seedlet to conceive? f Lead forth the scion from the tree!' — 1 Demeter and Persephone. By heaven to earth's embraces sent Since order'd purposes begun, The Daughter with the Mother blent — These move and breathe as two in one ; f Nor can such bond dissever'd be, 1 Demeter and Persephone. [161 PERSEPHONE [Enter Persephone with Ocean Nymphs. She is at first attended closely by their Leader, while the others remain apart, gathering flowers.] Persephone O ! how the scented air doth tempt to probe Its secret in some petal'd casket hidden. Leader Thy mother said, stray not far, whilst herself By slumbrous mood o'ermaster'd turn'd to rest. Persephone Near ! near ! not far, coils of fine incense rise As from some drowsy region trod in dreams — Leader Ay, many a blossom prompteth us, that ever Thou wert a dreamy child, Persephone. Persephone Some drowsy region where we rove not yet : Where sleep might be our waking ; waking, sleep. [17] PERSEPHONE Leader As now thy mother slumbers watchful, and thou Dost grope unwatchful mid the scenes of hght. Persephone Weird dimness closes round the light, and there One golden starry visage burns alone. Leader The flower hath charm 'd thee ; and methinks in truth Of thee 't is worthy, for thy hands only sprung. {The Leader withdraws to her companions.] Persephone [Bending over the narcissus] What spell, Sweet flower ! what potent counsel strange Thy winsome grace divine With soul-beguiling fragrance could combine, So toward unearthly visions of new change My helpless fancy to compel ! [18] PERSEPHONE Once more ! once more Ensnared in dark bewildering somnolence Reflective reason halts ! Once more With centred sight intense My ravish'd spirit seems Through the reopen'd eye of dreams This sovereign heavenly blossom to behold New-throned mid sombre, grave magnificence ! Lo! Free of its sever'd stem Shines the corolla as a diadem Clasping a queenly brow : Once fair as day, but now Pale with a sad mysterious light ; Dark-eyed and beautiful as night. Half of immortal, half of earthly mould. — O, rouse me ! let me wake ! Myself that crown to take, — Myself shall wear it — [As she stoops with both hands outstretched to pluck the flower, the gigantic figure of Pluto, whose black steeds come partially into view beyond the cliff, advances swiftly and silently behind her, seizes her by the waist and bears her away.] [19] PERSEPHONE Persephone O, whither ! — release me ! O, save me ! My mother, save me ! O, where? where art thou? [Enter Demeter from the side near the group of nymphs.] Demeter [To the Nymphs, who are in commotion] That voice ! that cry ! — [Looking about her] Persephone ! my child ! — Not with you? Leader O, mother, mother Demeter ! Demeter What? where? Leader Thither ! thither, the cliff ! Borne by an awful shape ! Demeter O heaven ! Shape human? Leader Human? what is that? Art thou, Demeter, human? [20] PERSEPHONE Demeter Too nearly, though immortal ! — Thou also, O my child !— But lost? lost? Nay ! nay, the immortal part Loss cannot know ; And that which links her to this sphere, A mother's quest shall find it, far or near ! — Ye powers above which have this fate decreed, Wait ! wait, and ye shall bend Before Demeter ! And thou black earth, If thy broad bosom hath Ken of Persephone, Let me forever scour it to the end ! By night the torch, by day the tireless eye — And pour my sorrow and my wrath. Fell mixture, far and wide ! They, too, by losing shall my anguish try. This bleeding heart Throbs not without requital of its pain ! Forth ! forth ! To seek, to wail, to languish, to regain ! [Exit] [21] PERSEPHONE Ocean Nymphs (Song) Now no longer may we stand On the unfamiliar land : Father Ocean calls us home To the grottoes and the foam. There upon our days no strange Shock of parting and profound Sense of melancholy change Comes to mar their blissful round. His slow-circling waters deep Round the earth untroubled sweep. Its impatient runlets flee To his endless harmony. There no discord breaks our dreams, Robs the heart of fancies fair ; One day like another seems, Our delights are always there. [22 PERSEPHONE With his partner in the skies Ocean's pulses fall and rise, To her true responses near From the crescent to the sphere. No vague signs our pathway cross. Searching grove and wilderness ; No regrets of love and loss On our virgin bosoms press. When these nightly thoughts incline Toward our stars, some strain divine Wafted from that heavenly choir Compasseth our heart's desire. Time nor task our father knows. For no peaceful end he yearns : From itself his current flows And unto itself returns. [Exeunt] [23] PERSEPHONE II By the Grove of the Hamadryads and the Mansion made Desolate. Demeter Selene Hamadryads {Dirge) [Heard at eventide in the autumn season, of voices within the mansion with open windows] First Voice \o} aged man) It was not time ; Not yet 't was time. Second Voice {of aged woman) So in his early prime — O ! in his prime. First Voice Ere now it came not so. Ourselves were ripe to go ; Ourselves to fade, to sleep. [24] PERSEPHONE Second Voice This thing we do not know. O ! why for sudden blow, Why must we weep? Chorus {of mingled voices) Themselves were ripe to go. They do not know, For sudden cruel blow Why they must weep. Ere now it came not so. Themselves were ripe to go ; To fade, to sleep. First Voice Not yet, not yet had he Lived, of himself to see New lives arise and bloom, But by an early doom His own laid low. [25] PERSEPHONE Second Voice The axe laid to the tree ! — O ! for what cause are we Lingering in vacant gloom? And he swept to the tomb From youthful glow ! Chorus They lingering in the gloom. And he swept to the tomb From youthful glow. The axe laid to the tree. He had not lived to see New lives arise and bloom, But by an early doom His own laid low. [The funeral procession following the bier moves from the mansion. As it passes from the scene Demeter, in mourning garb and bearing a smoking torch, enters on the other side by the grove.] Demeter Ay ! these perceive, the autumn of the world Portendeth more than harvest and fair fruits. [26] PERSEPHONE Not every shorn leaf that comes whirKng down Hath of a timely spring remembrance, but Full many a bourgeon did arrive too late. O, have ye dream'd, ye mortal sojourners, That this long human childhood should endure? And, while ourselves of deathless stamp must groan And grope with the half -kindled torch, that ye Might through a life of imperception reap The fruitage of experience sans the pain ! — Nor, if the awakening bend your necks to earth. Blame ye Demeter, who herself by fate Struggles enmesh'd and sees not to the end. — O ! wherefore should my share in this fell maze Of mingled day and darkness be that framed For agonies of severance and despair.^ Empty as yonder desolate mansion feels The heart that did with double fulness beat. Where art thou, O my daughter? thou the fairest. The freshest portion of my being, torn Rudely away, leaving this mournful remnant That rather should in nothingness dissolve Than thus cry blindly for its dearer part ! — Come forth ! come forth, some spirit, some deity That hast a far-discerning sense denied To this bewilder'd weary questioner : [27] PERSEPHONE Or from the skies or from the rotting mould Heap'd by the boles of these denuded trees Come forth ! Tell me ; O, tell me, Where is my daughter? where? Where is Persephone? [Demeter sinks to her knee as the full moon just ris- ing suddenly emerges from a bank of clouds and floods the empty mansion with light. At the head of the stair- way leading to its main entrance the Moon Goddess appearSy wearing a saffron robe and a crown of silver.] Selene Demeter, parent of seasons, giver to earth Of its green cheer and freshness, why thyself Dost make such moan in dismal garb forlorn? Demeter O, would, Selene, above this soil thy lot Of virginal remoteness had been mine ! Selene Slight not thy nearer destiny, Demeter ; Nor deem my cold tranquility worth more Than thy true motherhood with all its pains. [28] ■ PERSEPHONE Demeter So easy is it for them that have not felt, The worth of others' feehng to apprize. Selene Yet 't was thine own plaint, that not yet thou seest The end whither thou tendest. — But my eye Leaves of the earthly tract no coigne unview'd. Demeter O ! bring'st thou, then, from that all-seeing round Some tiding, O Selene, of my child? Selene Not by this vesper radiance alone Scan I the nether orb, but in full day With silvery shy effulgence 't is survey 'd — Demeter And nowhere to that circling argent, nor To the pale saffron halo beam'd a sign? Selene With many a sidewise glance, or face to face. By plain or mountain, or by the salty edge Of Ocean heaving to my bosom's spell. [29] ■ PERSEPHONE ■ Demeter There, there fell on my anguish' d waking ear The vanishing cry of lost Persephone. Selene Not at that hour my slender crescent hung Nigh to those flowery borders. I saw not Thy daughter's ravisher nor herself bewray'd. Demeter O ! even, then, to the whole monthly vigil's end From thee, Selene, could that face be hidden .^^ Selene Of the overworld no denizen is she ; Earth's sunny surface, whence her joyous hand The rose and lily pluck'd, knows her no more. Demeter O ! whither tend thy ominous words, Selene? Selene In the underworld thy daughter now, Demeter, Demeter Say it not ! heaven's offspring cannot brook the tale. [30] ■ PERSEPHONE 13 Selene Sits, the pale consort of its lord. — Such doom In her swift trackless passing read I clear And in the Father's prescient, grave designs ; Wherein thyself, Demeter, mightst not share, Since in thyself those purposes should find A suffering instrument. Demeter O, truly chosen ! Selene Some bond there needed, to link inseparably The unthinking human world with the profound Mysterious sphere to Pluto's charge assign'd. Though deathless be thy daughter, yet she dieth ; Ravish'd from life she liveth still. Demeter O fate ! And pitiless schemes inscrutable, to pierce And rend in twain this quivering mother heart. For that likewise each human parent might learn Some secret of new pangs. — ^But for them, too, As for myself, will I reclaim to earth — [31] PERSEPHONE To earth, my province and my tender charge, Through its own devastation, its own pain This intimate inseparably link'd bond, Our child, my child Persephone ! {Kneeling again and smiting the ground repeatedly and powerfully with her smouldering torch] Hear thou ! hear thou ! Aidoneus ! Aidoneus ! Hear ! in thy dark demesnes. Whose shore, being deathless I may not invade Save with this stern, sure menace ; hear ! Yield up ! yield up thy prey ! Aidoneus ! Aidoneus ! Hear thou ! hear thou ! Yield up ! yield up ! Thou, thou shalt heed Demeter. [Rising, she extends the torch upward.] Hear now, ye powers supernal ; between whom And the infernal lies this sodden earth, Whereof by fell concession ye pretend The weal to foster : hear ! hear ye Demeter ! Now on the same earth, your fond care, shall fall Foul blight and famine, drouth, and vegetal death. The tree shall wither and the brook run dry. [32] PERSEPHONE All things shall droop and sink ; not one shall spring. Through a v/eary, long, intolerable year Man, beast, and plant shall hunger, thirst, and faint, Till for deliverance yourselves cry out In fervent supplication ; nor shall that Avail, save in the promised end. — 'T is said. Selene Not by dark wood, nor cave, nor desert sands In all my veering pathway o'er the lands Wrath fiercer have I seen nor grief more wild Than the robb'd parent mourning for its child. Demeter Love left unto its own Of anger hath no need ; What vengeance can atone When these fond fibres bleed ! Selene Though on the innocent such ire descend? — Could gentle dryads thy proud soul offend.'^ I [33] PERSEPHONE Demeter The dryad and the gnome Must answer for their birth On earth they found a home, Their portion is of earth. Selene For its appointed hour each portion waits ; Thou add'st untimely passing to their fates. [The Hamadryads have gradually become dimly visible among the trees.] A Dryad {sings) If so my tree must perish My own hfe-course is run ; Hers is the soul I cherish, My tree and I are one. Living I would not leave her. Nor dying can bereave her ; No sigh I breathe shall grieve her ; Our task of love is done. [34] ■ PERSEPHONE Demeter Ye win a happier lot, When both to rest are gone, Than they who perish not. But, parted, must Hve on. Selene Not two in one, but one aloof, alone — It only can eternal calmness own. Another Dryad We two were born together, This tender tree and I. In rain and sunny weather We grew beneath the sky. We bathed us in the showers, We laugh 'd among the flowers Together through the hours ; Together we will die. Demeter Together wakes a tone Of rapture in the heart. Ye lived — and have not known That other word, apart. [35] PERSEPHONE Selene Twice blest the soul which through unending years Neither the one word nor the other hears. Another Dryad When autumn breezes sever These brown leaves from the stem It is a sorrow ever To say farewell to them. This time my tree is taking The sleep that hath no waking, And I my moan am making Her final requiem. Demeter And if ye rest in peace Your sorrows are forgot. They who must seek release In memory, find it not. Selene Till, haply, lifted from this troublous scene Their spirits hover in my heights serene. [The moon is again hidden by clouds and the scene left in darkness.] [361 ■ PERSEPHONE ■ III At the home of Eumolpus in Eleusis. The Council of Elders seated at the vestibule. Eumolpus Councillors An Aged Minstrel Callithoe Demo Demeter Metaneira Iambe Servants Eumolpus My lords, the time is ripe — as 't is not long Since stood likewise the increase of our fields In veritable ripeness — the hour 's at hand When for that easy-gather' d store we pay To the benignant, ever watchful Mother Due offering of thanks. Mark yonder pile, Thatch'd guaranty of barley thresh'd and housed ; Yon rows of oil- jars ; honey strain 'd, milk flowing Furnish the tithe acceptable, we the praise. First Councillor Praise verily and choicest fruits we owe For past care to Demeter. But not less The future craves of sparing kindly grace From the same hand divine. Signs are to note Of stress and dearth ; too long, too dry creeps on The rainless interval ; some springs run low. [37] PERSEPHONE Second Councillor Ay, for the winter plowing, sire, the wheat, An anxious thought I harbor. So the kine Seem restless and athirst. EUMOLPUS 'T is well ; 't is well. The saving deities will not slight this land. To us their favor hath been ever near, At heart their worship. Mother and Daughter need No farther than Eleusis press, to find Of earthly homes the surest. — Go we now Each to his central hearth, the household shrine. There with full hand your solemn gifts renew. With vows of deprecation, if need be. Both shall avail, should no mischance belie My hopeful auguries. Third Councillor Fair omens wait Even now, Eumolpus, on thy word. Behold Our herald of cheer, the bard. [Enter Minstrel] Eumolpus Unwelcome never, Now in strict season, hail, sir minstrel ! hail ! Hail to thy harp. [38] PERSEPHONE Minstrel O gracious chief, each hour, Each season hath its tones, its harmony Of mingled promise and regret. EUMOLPUS Ay, true. We sit to celebrate it ; sound the strain. Minstrel [Sweeping the strings of his harp, sings.] If autumn have a sadder side I care not now to sing it ; My theme is happy harvest-tide. And grateful words I bring it. Behind is panting summer fled. Safe lies the slighted quarry. Fast by her flowery lair hath sped The seasons' eager foray ; While surly winter stands at bay. Biding the foremost comer — An hour that holds apart the day Of winter and of summer. [39] PERSEPHONE The huntsman's horn an echo leaves, In plaintive cadence falling. — The reaper pauses mid the sheaves, His ancient dream recalling. Faint whiffs afloat of woodland fire Vague memories awaken ; The spring-tide of his heart's desire. Old fancies long forsaken. Through hazy air he sees afar The serried summits quiver. — Then nearer signs the vision mar : Two graves beside the river ; The grain-field of its bounty shorn, The vine stript of its cluster ; No bird-note on the breezes borne, No flower to lend its lustre. — Second Councillor Truly, methinks our singer gravitates Toward the unwelcome side. [40] PERSEPHONE EUMOLPUS Too many years Teach him the reaper's lesson. — Nay, sing on ! Minstrel If autumn have a sadder side Why turn I now to sing it? My theme is happy harvest-tide, And cheerful words I bring it. What though the grape no longer glows. By leafy covert shielded? The wine-press with the nectar flows Its ripen'd splendor yielded. That rivalry of trampling feet Each youth and maid rejoices. In vintage toil their pastimes meet, I hear their frolic voices. For them bare field and fallen leaf No solitude betoken ; Theirs be the yet ungarner'd sheaf. Earnest of vows unspoken. [41] PERSEPHONE [Enter from without Callithoe and Demo : the former leading Demeter disguised as an aged needy woman ; the latter bearing an urn of water. The Minstrel sets aside his harp.] EUMOLPUS Not in song only, So it doth seem, shall youth confirm the steps Of melancholy age. — A visitor, CaUithoe? Callithoe A sad one, O my father ! A story of sorrows. EuMOLPUS It shall be heard within. Our festal rite preparing for the Mother Shall stand for consolation. — And thou, too. Good minstrel, enter with them for thy share. [The three women go into the house, followed by the Minstrel.] Again, my lords, the casual guest reminds us. For plenteous store what recompense we owe. Rise we now ; and to our several services Disperse and give observance. Fare you well ! [42] ■ PERSEPHONE ■ [The Councillors rise and go out Eumolpus goes out on the other side. The scene changes to an interior, discovering the Court, an oblong area upon the ground, dimly lighted though partly open to the sky. This area is surrounded by a raised floor and roofed colonnade, with seats, and doors communicating with the several apartments of the dwelling; also a loom and spinning- wheels. In the centre of the court stands a large altar; and near it are set as offerings fruits, grain, jars of oil, wine, honey, flowers in pots. All the members of the household except Eumolpus himself: — the wife and the two daughters and numerous domestics, men and women, including Iambe, are seen standing on the ground about the altar. Their attitude is of tranquil expectation. Farther forward, upon the raised floor, on one side is seated the disguised Demeter, crouch- ing low with mournful mien ; on the other side stands the Minstrel with his harp. Every person, except Demeter, wears a wreath of laurel. A youthful attendant stands on either side of the altar, one hold- ing a lighted torch. — Enter at the rear Eumolpus, wearing a wreath. He speaks as he comes to a stand by the altar.] [43] PERSEPHONE EUMOLPUS Now let every tongue be still, And your conscious silence fill With a reverence profound All the air these walls surround. [At a sign from the master one of the attendants pours oil upon the altar, while the other sets it aflame.] The Father first we glorify. Cloud- wrapt, dwelling in the sky. — But thou need'st no loud acclaim. Nor to speak thy mighty name. Crave thy presence in our prayer. For thy will is everywhere. Demeter, Cora, Bacchus : triple company, One spirit breathed in three : If, where Salamis' dark brow On our curving bay is bent. To Eleusis with benign intent Ye ever came, come now ! Many Voices in Unison Demeter, Cora, Bacchus : triple company, One spirit breathed in three : If by Salamis' dark brow Ye ever to Eleusis came, come now ! [44] PERSEPHONE EUMOLPUS Demeter, Cora, Bacchus : triple company, One spirit breathed in three : Of your gifts we keep not all ; To yourselves the choicest fall. Those no blemish came to mar Emblems of perfection are — Of your gracious bounty, sent For our zest and aliment. Milk of heifer ranging free. On whose neck no yoke may rest ; Of the petal-probing bee Honey from wild blossoms press'd ; Crystal streams from virgin spring : All with thankful hearts we bring. Drawn from parent stock sincere Thy untemper'd cordial flows, Bacchus ; and the fruit is here, Dearest that Eleusis knows, — Where by zones of yellow grain The gray olive dots the plain. [At the intervals of the recital the several offerings have been placed upon the altar.] [45] PERSEPHONE Mother benign. Thy bosom holds Secrets divine That earth unfolds — What powers assure Life yet to be, To us obscure, Possess'd by thee. We score the soil, We fling the seed ; All-vain our toil, Shouldst thou not heed. Not by some chance Each germ upsprings ; Our sustenance Thy bounty brings. — By turf or tree. By tame or wild, We praise with thee Cora thy child. [46] PERSEPHONE One soul, one will, Ye are not twain ; Attuned to thrill The same refrain. That unison Our blessing prove. O ! breathe it on The fields we love. What hazards hurt. What mischiefs mar, Avert ! avert ! Hold them afar. No want know'st thou, | Parent divine ; ' Yet to our vow Thine heart incline In gracious mood — Gifts as of yore. Full oft renew'd, And more and more. \ [The altar-flame is again kindled.] \ I ■ PERSEPHONE The same who doth beginnings lend Claims our homage of the end. When on hallow 'd names we call 'T is the Father crowns them all ; All the gleanings of our days In the fateful balance weighs. Therefore now in final turn His flames on the altar burn. Your unprison'd voices break Stillness held for harvest's sake. Taste its rich inviting store And the temper'd nectar pour ; Be your mutual greetings blent In recover'd merriment. [There is lively movement and the hum of mingled voices. They sit and partake of the fruit and bread distributed. Wine is mixed with water in the wassail bowl and served in cups. Demeter, though still in dejected attitude, partakes sparingly of bread, but declines the wine offered her.] Metaneira Poor woman, have cheer ; be not afraid ; put by The mournful thoughts that cloud your aged brow. Mortals must bear it when sad fates arrive, [48] PERSEPHONE Yet seek assuagement. 'T is Eumolpus' house, Who with just hand and charitable heart. And by wise compeers seconded, protects The people of Eleusis. No poor wanderer (For all come in the Father's name) goes hence Unsoothed, uncomforted. Tell us your name ; Whence you have wander'd hither. Callithoe Mother, she said Her name is Doso and she comes from Crete. Metaneira So far? O strange ! Eumolpus Good woman, we fain would hear From your own lips the story of these woes. Speak and reward us. Demeter Noble chief, 't were long From the beginning to the end to trace My path of sorrows. But the immediate tale Is of the angry sea, whose hostile edge And cliffs of flint shatter'd the vessel's side [49] PERSEPHONE ■ Wherein from that far Cretan isle we sail'd. A whole household were we. For, though myself Bound but to menial service, it had been long And intimate — and not one other now Lives of that happy group. O ! would the fierce Unconquerable tempest that impell'd Our bark upon those adamantine shores Had made me its first victim, — this aged heart Still beating to deplore the loss of them Who least deserved their fate. And most I mourn The gentle child which 't was my task to tend From morn till eve, and through the stilly night Unto its helpless needs to minister. — Alas ! not always did such order hold. That youth and childhood should first sink and fade. But now the fishers whose brave efforts sought To cheat the billows, rescuing me alone. Brought me to Thoricus ; and thence I wander'd, Till by the fountain whence your daughters drew Pure water for Demeter's festival Weary I sat, despairing. Metaneira O, weep not. Poor soul ! nor think the source of hope runs dry. [50] PERSEPHONE For 't is the parent of hopes, whose rite some breeze Of shifting fortune sent you here to share. 'T is she who, when chill frost bites and lays low Soft, swaying foliage wither'd to the root, Inspires our trust in its rebirth. And now Deem the sweet child that perish'd found again. An infant son have I, late-born, well loved, Blooming with promise. You shall be his nurse. Tend him even as that one. And mayhap When he attains to conscious age, his thoughts Will seek you gratefully and make your lot Envied of many. — Is he not yet awake, lambe.^^ Iambe Nay, he sleeps, my mistress, still. Metaneira Later he shall be brought. — EUMOLPUS But there needs cheer To break this sadness, Metaneira. Methinks Our minstrel guest hath not yet brought his song To strict conclusion. — Let us know the end. [51] PERSEPHONE Minstrel [After a brief prelude upon the harp, resumes his song.] If autumn have a sadder side I choose not now to sing it ; My theme is happy harvest-tide, And grateful words I bring it. Your praises of the Mother sound While halcyon days still linger ; Ere yet the wintry wind, unbound, Has touch'd with shriveUng finger The last grace of the tender year. Its dulcet breathings banish'd ; Ere the last fitful gleam of cheer From smiling skies has vanish'd. The mother quail still stays to call Her sturdy brood together ; The lizard still basks on the wall ; The crane still preens his feather. Till soon he span the southern sea, To Libyan shores descending ; Some lone cicada pipes his glee ; Some swallow southward wending. [52 PERSEPHONE O, wait ! and turn not to deplore The charm of days now ended ; The nightingale's sad lay, no more With vesper stillness blended. Mourn not ! What though the self -same bird Return to thrill us never? That heavenly plaint shall yet be heard, That tale retold forever. Not the same flowers unfold again. Once more the meadows glisten ; Not the same zephyrs whisper, when Once more, entranced, ye listen. Your minstrel shall not tarry long. Soon with the sere leaf lying. New voices will repeat his song. From age to age undying. [There is silence and a long pause, till Eumolpus, filling a cup from the bowl and presenting it to the Minstrel, speaks.] [53] PERSEPHONE EUMOLPUS Thy song shall live indeed, AU-honor'd bard, when we have pass'd, who now By the weird spell of silence sit enthrall'd. And for thyself, may many a year its score Of leafy generations cast to earth. Ere to new hands thine ageless harp descend. — But — for the present is a festal hour, To man and maid for respite warranted — Go forth all, and the sense of toil dissolve In mirth and pleasantry. [The Servants, all but Iambe, bestir themselves briskly and go out at the rear, followed by the Min- strel and EuMOLPUS urith his two daughters. Metaneira goes out, entering one of the chambers at the side.] Iambe [To Demeter still sunk in melancholy] Wake up ! be lively, grandam ! [Demeter shakes her head.] 'T is good ; shake off these megrims ; I have store Of cheery tales that bring forgetfulness. Listen ; I tell one. [Demeter gives sign of aversion.] [54] PERSEPHONE There was once an old woman scratch'd badly with briars Forgot to remember, "All Cretans are liars." Spun a yarn in the style of a season'd sea-rover : A ship stove to pieces, the Cretans spill'd over. [Demeter raises her head and looks curiously at Iambe.] Herself all afloat in the cold briny water, Till safe to the shore a bold fisherman brought her. Beat her way to Eleusis through brambles and briars, But forgot to remember, All Cretans are liars. So, if she was a Cretan, we could not believe her ; And if she was not, then she play'd the deceiver. [Demeter, straightening up, gazes at the speaker with a cheerfid look,] This fable imposes a duty ungracious. To warn all old women more glib than veracious : Lay the scene of your highly improbable story Not in Crete, but in some more remote territory. [Demeter smiles.] Demeter Damsel, what is thy name.^^ [55] PERSEPHONE Iambe lambe. Demeter Bee? You are Bee? Ono! Iambe ! not Youarbe ; I-am-be. [Smiling again] Ah Demeter ! you are Iambe. Iambe I am — be sure. — My father was a Cretan king ; his name Was Anapaistos, not unknown to fame. My mother Dactyl shared with him the throne. To fond reciprocation ever prone ; Yet when he wish'd her near for work or play Her steps would always turn the other way. My sister Trochee and myself, likewise, Could never look each other in the eyes, Our thoughts so strangely centred in another. Spondee, our irresponsible big brother. [56] PERSEPHONE Though most religious, even when most drunk, His wits in utter slothfulness were sunk. Trochee must run ; Spondee could only crawl ; I had to walk or not proceed at all. Alas ! there was for us no common ground. The bards are busy, but have not yet found The proper measures to make both ends meet And set my family upon its feet. [Enter Metaneira carrying an infant in her arms.] Metaneira [Passing the child to Demeter who receives it gra- ciously] Take, take your precious charge, good woman ; see How willingly he comes ! Demeter Yes ; and his name.^* Metaneira Triptolemus. Demeter Thrice spoil'd? Metaneira Nay, nay ! thrice cherished. Boon of the thrice plow'd field. [57] PERSEPHONE Iambe Yet to be thresh'd. Metaneira Iambe, spare thy quips ! — Come forth, come forth ! Iambe My quips can cure. [As the two go out.] Demeter [Left alone, sings in low tones to the child she is holding.] Open httle eyes in wonder ; Open, open wide. Little lips, they move asunder. What strange face untried Doth of a new mother seem.f^ Triptoleme. New and old have found each other : Thrice true to his name, Thrice endear' d the people's brother To these arms he came. Lost or losing to redeem, Triptoleme. [58] PERSEPHONE Draw a charmed circle round them ; All within it save. Fear nor famine shall confound them. By Eleusis' wave Every ill forefended deem, Triptoleme. He shall recompense Demeter, When, by him beguiled, One by one the nations greet her, Change their aspects wild For an amity supreme, Triptoleme. Little eyes are prone to slumber ; Little lips can smile. Stately visions without number Hover nigh the while. When immortal children dream, Triptoleme. [The dimly lighted scene has grown darker. Voices of merriment are still heard without.] [59] PERSEPHONE IV By the Entrance to the Lower World. Hermes Pluto Persephone Hermes Mine errand let the pallid asphodel. By the gray twilight shimmering, consecrate. — Whither my steps are bent, shall for a sign About their path this ghostly flower be strewn, When, to a deeper vision moved, men seek To pierce the veil that shrouds their mortal ken, Feigning a field of asphodel beyond. It is the way to death. Nor may, of those Who from abodes celestial view afar The strange complex of transitory lives. Another than myself o'erstep the bound. From light to gloom the steps are few ; and I Descending thither have already spann'd The main ethereal distance, till thus nigh To the infernal gates, pausing I wait For the decisive moment to pass down Into his presence, to whose ear straightway The Eternal Father's will shall be convey'd. [60] PERSEPHONE Now on the tardy verge of winter hangs The sun's relenting disc. Yet by that sign Not as before do watchful mortals read Hope and recover'd cheer. Still on their fields Blight presses, drouth and famine lower ; no beam Of vernal promise rends the pall. — ^Then they To the supernal powers their suppliant cries Uplifting, from Demeter's vengeful stroke In piteous appeal, did importune, Conquer'd our sympathies. One by one we sought The Mother's presence, earthward speeding ; laid Our gifts before Demeter ; promised all That might subdue a proud immortal heart. But to each fruitless mission 't was the same Stern answer : *' Think me not one of yourselves. My foot the Olympian threshold shall not cross ; Nor shall the stricken earth yield of its fruits, Till these eyes see Persephone restored." — Then straight the Father on my zeal enjoin'd To penetrate the nether gloom, and call Back unto day in his almighty name The bride erstwhile conceded. [61] PERSEPHONE Here I stand. O, who but for constraint inexorable Would pass among the shadowy denizens Of death's domain, even though by prompt return Deliverance be assured? — Already I hear Cadence of ghostly voices, which, not long From living freshness flitted forth, nor yet Given the oblivion craved, do thinly echo Their chorus of regretful agonies. Voices [Heard chanting behind the scenes] Wandering ; waiting. Where Out of a dark despair Rest may we find.'* Some saving power, O ! send Forge tfulness, to end This frenzied mind. ! would we knew not, where Or who we are, or were ! Help, help us to forget. 1 think ; I cannot see. Lost one, I think of thee. Remembering yet. [G2] PERSEPHONE Hermes Ah ! have ye now the worth perceived of that For which in Hfe your thoughtless fancies yearn'd? As children, when their sweetmeats are consumed. Cry to possess them still. If your lives held Naught profitable, they were well come to naught. Or, if perchance ye deem'd them good, ye had them — Once, and for all. — But chant not of despair. Near where ye flit the stream of Lethe flows. Thence shall ye drink and in oblivion Find peace. Forgetfulness, its blessed fount Not too soon have wise powers before you set, That for a few sad moments ye might know The folly of those earthly cravings. Then, When the Lethean waters pass your lips, Yourselves ye are no more. Live on ; Live on — if it be deem'd so ; but yourselves Exist no longer : all your fears shall cease. [The chanting is heard again, growing fainter and fainter.] [63] PERSEPHONE ■ Voices To Lethe, Lethe's river, O ! waft us ; and dehver The imprison'd soul. Blest fount, end this probation Of thought without sensation. Waves of oblivion, roll O'er us. Quench, quench forever The flames of memory. Sever The tie of long ago. Of penances infernal ; And for repose eternal, Lethe, sweet Lethe, flow. Hermes Farewell, then. Not thyself, but now thou art Another, if so be thou art at all. — For me, mine errand loiters. Downward ! down ! To the day -beam, for a brief hour, farewell ! [Exit, entering a chasm at one side. — The scene changes. At first it is wrapt in total darkness. Gradu- ally light appears at the centre, leaving the surround- ing space still dark. In the central illumination the forms of Pluto and Persephone are discovered, seated side by side upon elevated thrones, their faces wearing the hue cast by fire-light.] [64] ■ PERSEPHONE Pluto Here — not as there — stability unswerving, Repose, conclusion, safe authority. They, in their upper world, sway to and fro. Cherish their petty plans — resolve them here. Persephone To cherish is worth much, while cherishing. Once found, concluded, what avails solution? Pluto Of past and future vainly to reck no longer Should seem of such avail, that to our bourn 'T were meet to press and hasten, not as now Shrinking ignore the ill, defer the cure. Persephone Why crave a remedy for that which seems. Mere semblance though it be, to heal itself? Pluto Illusions, which our kindred powers above Implant, encourage in the world they rule. Ourselves, stern though our mien, deceive not, lay No snares to entangle ; solemn truth is here. [65] PERSEPHONE Persephone For me, illusion shames solemnity. Once I possess'd my share, more humble then. Pluto Humility suits not, Persephone, The sway whereof thou art participant. Persephone Rather a child fann'd by the fickle wind Than queen of a dead realm helpless to change. Pluto Ah ! reconciled not yet. Time, time shall win thee. Of it there is enough. — But stay ! what comes? [At one side there opens a space of light in the sur- rounding darkness, revealing Hermes who stands forth toward Pluto and Persephone.] Hermes Pluto, dread ruler of the shades, I come Bearing new message from the living world. Pluto Not often, Hermes, falls to us such honor Of condescension as thy visit lends. [66] PERSEPHONE Hermes Mine errand is, as the appointed guide Of souls in passage 'twixt our sphere and thine, By the supremest order, to conduct Persephone back to the upper realm ; That, setting eyes upon her child once more, Demeter, the Mother, may be reconciled To her immortal kindred, and forbear By earthly ruin, death of scion and seed. All grace of human homage to suppress. That wrath inflexible Eleusis now, Her chosen harbor of bereavement, shelters. Pluto Order supreme, sublime, who shall withstand? No choice remains. Yet even your Highest must bend Before Necessity, the arm of Fate. By fate already union inviolable, A bond no countermand may wholly sever, Was 'twixt these two worlds consummated, when Demeter's daughter, once conceded, came To the embrace of death. Even as frail men By the pomegranate-seed do symbolize [67] PERSEPHONE Their marriage-tie forsooth as one that binds Forever. — Therefore, Persephone, though now To thy glad mother's breast thou may'st return, Bearing the boon of teeming hours sore craved By mortals and their patron deities And by the weary, starveling shell of earth ; Yet through each half-year only shall endure This upward impulse swelling in thy heart. Again, again at the due moment, thy thoughts— Not then as now aspiring — shall swing back Hither, impel thee downward. Persephone Be it so ! — But at this hour my fluttering soul upsprings, As when in sunny childish wanderings The waken 'd butterfly I saw unfold From mouldy cerements his wings of gold. Pluto Then, once his little season sped, the chill Of dissolution smites with sudden thrill. Quickly to earth his stiffen'd wing descends ; The crawling worm that hovering glory ends. [68] PERSEPHONE ■ Persephone Once more by Ocean's marge I seem to rove, With sea-nymphs seek our flowery treasure-trove. My mother sleeps, lull'd by the purHng stream ; The white cloud sails and silvery eddies gleam. Pluto Once more the fragrant tempter's fatal smile Beams forth benign, unfailing to beguile. — The fickle nymphs flee to their sheltering wave ; Thine, the all-harboring hospice of the grave. Hermes [Extending his winged wand gently toward Perseph- one who, as in a trance, rises from her throne and steps down toward him] This wand the Everlasting's mandate heeds ; Or toward the dark, or toward the light it leads. Pluto Few thither, hither many their passage wend ; There a beginning, here the appointed end. [69] PERSEPHONE ■ Persephone O ! now some heavenly ray methinks I see Piercing this foul, black-crusted canopy. — Now, now soft vapory tresses fleck the sky ; The wood-dove calls and vernal breezes sigh. Pluto Speed thee some while illusion's airy spell ; Brief absence claims no grave, prolong'd farewell. [The seated figure of Pluto becomes enveloped in shadow and disappears. Persephone surrounded by a halo of light follows Hermes out.] [70] PERSEPHONE By the House of Eumolpus Children Iambe Metaneira Callithoe Demo Eumolpus Councillors Demeter Iris [Enter from without a throng of Children, boys and girls of various ages. They carry small billets of wood suspended by strings, upon which they strike with another stick, producing a musical clatter. They halt in front of the house, and as their Leader, a boy older than the rest, begins to chant his lay, the others cease their noise.] Leader The swallow ! the swallow ! The swallow has come, she is here ; Bringing with her the beautiful hours. The beautiful year. [A pause; clatter by the chorus.] The swallow ! the swallow ! O ! the swallow is here. Purple back, belly white, From wealthy home she begs a mite. — [71] PERSEPHONE Toss out, toss out a honey-cake ; A tiny cup of wine, A bit of cheese pared fine, Even a barley loaf the swallow deigns to take. [Pause; clatter.] What ! — are we to go away Empty-handed? — nothing ! nothing, do you say? — If you will give, well and good : If you will not, we shall see ; Make our little sticks of wood Clatter, batter merrily ; Walk away with your front door, Pull down the lintel — or, what 's more, The little woman who sits inside. Carry her off on a pig-back ride ! [Pause; clatter.] If you proffer to the swallow, May to you great profit follow. Open the door to the swallow, then ; Open, open ! We are children, not old men. [Thedooris opened, discoveringlAMBE,broom in hand.] [72] PERSEPHONE Iambe [Flourishing her broom] Your little woman can hold the door, Drive away pigs and clear the floor, — [The throng laugh, vociferate, and clatter loudly.] Pare your cheeses and eat 'em too ; Swallow a dozen such mites as you. [Very loud clatter; then a pause.] Leader But, little lady, we say the spring is here. Give of your store to celebrate the hour. Iambe Then will you go away and give us peace ? Leader To other wealthy homes the swallow leads us. [Enter Metaneira behind Ia.mbe.] Metaneira The season brings us noisy little birds. [73] PERSEPHONE Leader Young birds cry to be fed, ere they can fly. [They vociferate and clatter. Metaneira turns and signs to Iambe, who goes into the house.] Metaneira So we must needs find food to stop their mouths. Leader Then will the swallow bring you happy hours. Metaneira 'T is a quiet hour we crave. Leader Will you sleep still ! Metaneira The councillors come — Leader The heads of families? Then will we stay, and with our little mime Win their good-will. [Re-enter Iambe with a basket. She distributes cakes among the children, who receive the dole with shouts, [74] PERSEPHONE but without clatter. — Enter from the house Eumolpus, looking unfavorably upon the throng as they eat. Directly after Eumolpus, and while he is speaking, the Councillors enter from without, one by one. They take their seats in the vestibule as formerly, viewing curiously the scene.] Eumolpus What means this flummery when the Council 's call'd? Metaneira It is their threat to entertain the Council. Leader The swallow hath a mimic show, to add Grace to their wisdom. Eumolpus 'T is an errant bird ; Slow coming, swift departing. She is due Elsewhere ; our exigence can spare her mimes. First Councillor My lord, though times be exigent, the day Will hold more than we owe it. Shall we listen? [75] PERSEPHONE Metaneira O, let them play, Eumolpus ; children know Somewhat that wise heads need to ponder. — See ! [At a sign from the Leader the children quickly draw back and dispose themselves sitting or reclining upon the ground in a half -circle facing the house, excepting the largest girl, who remains standing. At the same moment Callithoe and Demo enter from the house and join the onlookers. A number of servants also enter. The girl climbs into a large wine-jar, only her head and arms emerging. The boy slings a wallet over his shoulder and takes a staff in hand. The two child actors manifest the feelings indicated by the words recited, naively, especially the girl, whose part is wholly pantomime.] Leader I 'm the wanderer ; that jar 's her house ; she peeps Forth from the window ; nobody can see, Nobody hears us. Iambe Nobody will tell. Leader She does n't want me to go away ; she thinks I '11 never come back. [76] PERSEPHONE Second Councillor And when do you come back? Leader I come back with the swallow. Callithoe and Demo O! Leader [Approaching] To-day I must say good-bye, Shall be far to-morrow. O you treasure of my eye, Parting, it brings sorrow ! Just because I 've loved so well. Loved you more than tongue can tell. Now I leave and lose you. Second Councillor Bless my soul ! but the lad is posted. Third Councillor Methinks they are a trifle young for this. [While the following lines are recited, Demeter, still in disguise, enters from the house and stands viewing the scene contemplatively.] [77] PERSEPHONE Leader Two good friends and nothing more. Who know one another ; Sun and moon shall fly, before These part from each other. How much keener is the smart When a fond true-lover's heart In the wide world wanders ! Callithoe O ! why does n't he stay at home? Metaneira Hush ! hush, Callithoe ; they 're only playing. Leader Little breeze on cheeks or hands, Airy kisses lending ; Think 't is sighs from far-off lands That to you I 'm sending. Thousand every day I breathe. There about your house to wreathe, Thinking of you ever. — Metaneira Why ! — she has fallen into the jar. [78] PERSEPHONE ■ Iambe That 's only a matter of size. First Councillor The play is well enough ; but, my lord, I note A strange complexion of the sky. [The scene has suddenly grown dark and livid.] EUMOLPUS 'T is true ; A thunder-cloud not far ; unusual surely At the matin hour. — But 't is a season, such As shall be long remember 'd. Failure and famine Are from all neighboring lands reported, though Serenely for ourselves the winter sped. Second Councillor But mark, sire ; mark ! There falls the rain ; Not distant, but strikes here not quite. And now A sunbeam pierces. Metaneira [Pointing toward the side opposite Demeter] See ! O see : the rainbow ! Close by ! [79] PERSEPHONE [The scene, while still sombre^ becomes suffused with iridescent lights, and under an arch of radiance the figure of Iris is discovered, faintly outlined. The sitters shrink as if awe-struck, all the more when the name of Demeter is 'pronounced; hut Demeter herself brightens and her standing form seems statelier than before.] Iris Demeter, Demeter, what holds thee so long. When the word of the Father has mended thy wrong? Persephone risen crowns mourning with peace ; Thy sorrows are ended, thy wanderings cease. Now the threshold of Heaven thy footfall awaits ; Earth can spare thee what hour that fond meeting belates. Every bourgeon betokens thy daughter's return. Every bird speeding home from his mateless sojourn. [80] PERSEPHONE The wing and the blossom must falter and fade ; These lives do but wander from waking to shade. Twice lustrous the gems in Persephone's crown : Both the quick and the dead heed her smile and her frown. Her bounty and thine still with fervor be- sought, Though the left hand undo what the right hand has wrought. At the parting, Demeter, rave not, nor repine ; The Father hath said it. All vengeance is mine. His bow spans the welkin to cheer and to save ; One arm by the cradle, one arm by the grave. Each storm-cloud rolls by through the arch- way of time. When swift Iris beams forth with her tidings sublime. [81] PERSEPHONE [The figure of Inis fades and vanishes. The radiance shifts to the opposite side of the scene; and as the people turn they behold Demeter, divested of her disguise, now standing forth in all the splendor of divine presence.] Demeter I am Demeter, the Mother, whom unawares Thou and thy household entertaining, earn'd Reward, Eumolpus, of these scatheless fields, And for thyself and for thy peers a fame Through all the ages round Eleusis flung. A mystic union of two worlds shall link Your living visions to the invisible dead, The soul departed to the yearning soul ; And by hopes newly dawning reconcile Men's aspirations to their mortal term. Such veil'd design to further through my pain, Persephone, the Life-child now, and now The Bride of Death, wears her ambiguous crown. And not thine own name only shall resound When the Eumolpidae proclaim the ban Of silence in my rites ; but thrice revered. As at Demeter's bosom thrice inspired, [82] ■I PERSEPHONE ■ Triptolemus, from this my central shrine, Sowing the seeds of knowledge shall go forth A peaceful conqueror to earth's farthest bound. That golden era swiftly fled, through him O'ertaken not yet, shall glimmer and beckon still ; In the pursuit, than while possess'd, more dear. But rise ; arise, ye people ! — for this day Of revelation and renascence brooks No waiting its behest to consecrate — Arise, men, women, children ; and lay hand, With heavenly vigor for the task endued. To the founding of my temple. Forth ! forth ! — There, Where to the wave yon solid earth declines, Demeter and Cora shall abide. Each stone Planted this hour its solemn portion guards Of mystery to the eternal ages seal'd. [Obeying the word and gesture of Demeter they rise and go out silently, but with brisk and decisive steps. As the last person passes the scene grows dim and the form of the goddess fades as in a cloud.] [83] eloiv vTto j^^ova . olSev [lev (3lov reXevtdv, PINDAR. -Sopedg Sifrdg, aiTtfp ^Eyiorai tvy^avovaiv ovcaL, Hove, re xapnovg, ol rod ^LYi 3)7pt(j5c5$ ^i^v nfidg aiTiot yeyovaOL, xal rYjv re^erriv, 37$ OL ^eraaxovreg nepi re ryjg rov [Siov reXevr^g xal rov avfinavrog alOtvog n^lovg rag s^iniSag ex,ov(yLV. I SOCRATES. PERSEPHONE ■ EPILOGUE ■ In the Temple at Eleusis The scene opened discloses the interior of the narrow prodomus or Entrance Hall of the temple of Demeter and Cora. The wide central entrance to the sanctuary behind is closed with light curtains. By the dim torchlight the inner frieze of the prodomus with its sculptured designs is indis- tinctly seen. In front of the curtained passage stands the Herald of the Mysteries, crowned with myrtle and holding a lighted torch. It is night. Strains of music are heard in the distance without, mingled with jubilant outcries as of a moving throng. They seem to draw nearer, until presently the processional chant is distinctly heard. Voices Without lacch', O lacche ! [Nearer and louder] lacch', O lacche ! lacch', O lacche ! lacchus, comrade of the rout, Come to song and merry shout ! Where thy holy mystics rave And the myrtle-chaplet wave ; [85] PERSEPHONE Where the brandish'd torch-flame leaps, Across the pitchy shadows sweeps, Come, and lead the merry throng All the sacred way along. Wake the many-echo'd cry Where with young the aged vie : lacch', O lacche ! lacch', O lacche ! Herald Many mind the call ; but few, Chosen, proved, and purified. May the hallow'd emblems view Which Demeter's portals hide. Voices Without lacchus, to thy nightly choir Guiding star and beacon-fire, Light my anxious footsteps now Toward the temple's fluted brow. Dark with secrets guarded well In their shroud of asphodel. [86] EPILOGUE Herald Many cry ; but they alone Tried and taught to watch and wait Can the exaltation own From the Lesser to the Great. The Candidates (epoptae) enter silently in solemn order, arrayed in white robes and wearing their myrtle wreaths, the men on one side of the hall, the women on the other. They stand facing sidewise toward the curtained passage. Herald Though ye enter or depart. Though ye look not or behold, Bars of oak be on your heart, On your lips the key of gold. Choir {of Mystics within the sanctuary) Of his life the spring and source, Of its troublous stream the course. The mysterious chain Threading its vicissitude He marks not, who hath not view'd In the Mother's fane [87] PERSEPHONE The weird symbols of her woe ; Nor can he the solace know Which new hopes inspire. When the Child her faith redeems, Rising through the gates of dreams, A divine fulfilment seems Of the soul's desire. Herald They, whose conscious hymns redound To the reverence of their name. With a sense of peace profound Your beatitude proclaim. The curtains are drawn apart, revealing the inner sanc- tuary, with the HiEROPHANT standing at one side. The Choir of Mystics, who continue to chant their hymns from time to time, remain unseen from first to last. — Music of stringed instruments is heard during the intervals. The HiEROPHANT at first points with his staff in silence to- ward the centre of the sanctuary at the objects there dis- played, brilHantly lighted from above : a miniature thresh- ing-floor of circular form ; upon it a very ancient wooden image of Demeter, a plow of primitive pattern, a sickle, and a winnowing-fan. [88] EPILOGUE HiEROPHANT How, through tardy ages run, By unnumber'd labors won, Have these simple and sublime Emblems of defeated time. With their mystical accord Of an infinite reward. Come condignly to appear On your sober'd vision clear ! Once, each instrument and art Found no sign nor counterpart. All unneeded and unknown. Not yet to such usance grown Childlike man no warning word Of their birth and burthen heard. His repast the oak-tree spread. From its wind-stript branches shed ; And the wild grape and the bee Soothed that foolish infancy. Reck'd they hght the past, nor more What the future held in store. [89] PERSEPHONE Slender portion, but for death. Life of worth or meaning hath. Unbenign the sun on those Thoughtless generations rose, Nor his setting spell'd for them Threnody and requiem. Passionless, untaught to mourn. Marching blindly toward the bourn, Swift they sprang and grew and pass'd ; And the earliest and the last. As some hovering vapor-tress Seized and whirl'd to nothingness, Nor remember'd nor forgot Faded, vanish'd, and was not. For a careless world what sign Of an Earth-mother divine .^^ What probation or reprieve Could their silly thoughts conceive.'* Nature's increase, cull'd from chance, Won no gift or cognizance. 'T was for them enough to mark Lapse of daylight unto dark ; And the blended seasons ran Into one, for stolid man. [90] EPILOGUE Aloof, and with her Heaven-born child, By earth's farthest border wild, Where Selene's crescent beam Glimpses close her partner's stream And zephyrian airs inspire Father Ocean's virgin choir. Blithely roved the Mother then. — Unbesought of thankless men, Could her soul forebode the scene That untenanted demesne Should for their redemption show Through her own unfathom'd woe ! [The curtains remain open, but the scene becomes totally dark, and the Epoptae are heard to move inward at the two sides as the Herald speaks,] Herald Long ye waited, nor in vain, The all-envied, blissful state Of Beholders to attain. By the view initiate. Once more illuminated the scene discloses the Epoptae seated as in a small theatre, behind and facing the thresh- ing-floor, which forms as it were its orchestra. The Hiero- PHANT and the Herald are not in view. The area presents now, in place of the former emblems, a motionless tableau : [91] I PERSEPHONE the Mother relinquishing the Daughter to the custody of Death, who, as priest of the dead, seems in the act of severing with sacrificial knife a lock of hair from the child's head. At one side the action thus represented is itself symbolized by a tall lily growing in a jar. — While the figures remain motionless, the flower is seen suddenly to droop, bend, and hang down with wilted stalk and petals. Choir Each blessing hath its price, Its proper sacrifice, To nature due. Whoso receiveth breath Oweth the same to death. To aspire anew. Epopt^ [Rising, as they chant the refrain] ( Whoso receiveth breath -\ Oweth the same to death, I To aspire anew. Choir They to completeness grown Dread not to yield their own In fated turn ; [92] EPILOGUE But, when the scion's flower Falleth before its hour, By grief they learn. Epopt^ ( But, when the scion's flower s Falleth before its hour, ( By grief we learn. Choir Death comes to set thee free ; O, greet him cheerily As thy true friend. Then, ail thy fears shall cease, And in eternal peace Thy penance end. Epopt^ ( Then, all my fears shall cease, -j And in eternal peace I My penance end. [The light is again extinguished and the voice of the Herald is heard in the darkness.] [93] I'l i I PERSEPHONE Herald That which seems the end, ye saw As beginning first unfold ; Now its lesson and its law By the second phase behold. The light re-admitted shows the Epoptae in their seats as before, contemplating the Second Tableau : the Mother sunk in grief by the Fount of Callichorus, while the two daughters of Eumolpus stand by in an attitude of consola- tion and encouragement. — The jar which held the flower is in plain view. Choir Joy and sorrow in one chalice blended, Their commingling is the common lot, From the birth-hour till the struggle 's ended, From the palace to the shepherd's cot. Long the Mother's heaven roll'd bright above her. Now funereal shadows shroud the scene. Shall at last the soul's new breath uncover Deepening realms of azure sky serene? [941 k EPILOGUE Epopt^ j Shall at last the soul's new breath uncover I Deepening realms of azure sky serene? Choir Lo ! no more on slender stem the lily Lifts her smile of frail beatitude. 'T is the bulb, low lying, dark and stilly, With invisible potency endued. They of order'd life and mood unshifting. Whom the black earth seemeth to bewray. Powers unseen bestow their heart's uplifting, Not the beckoning phantoms of a day. Epopt^ j Powers unseen bestow our heart's uplifting, 1 Not the beckoning phantoms of a day. [Again the scene becomes dark.] Herald Oft with head in mourning bow'd Those despondent hours ye knew ; What lay hid beneath the shroud 'T is the triple turn to view. [95] PERSEPHONE The light restored shows the Epoptae contemplating the Third Tableau. Hermes, attended by the Hours, leads the Daughter to the Mother from the Underworld. — Immedi- ately, from the jar a lily-stem is seen slowly and steadily to rise, until it expands again into the perfect flower. Choir To confirming graces Springs the soul renew'd, Not to troublous phases Of incertitude. Now such radiance it beholds As the flower her fringe unfolds, Rare and rainbow-hued. EPOPTiE Now such radiance it beholds As the flower her fringe unfolds, Rare and rainbow-hued. Choir Who their thoughts unprison From inane desire, Finer-temper'd risen Out of chastening fire, [961 EPILOGUE They hark not to fickle time, But to harmonies subHme Of the eternal choir. EPOPTiE ( We hark not to fickle time, < But to harmonies sublime { Of the eternal choir. [The scene becomes dark.] Herald Think ye 't was all, when she, whose spell, Through the half-year lost above. On the unseen dwellers fell. Rose again, her sway to prove? The scene is again illuminated, and while the Epoptae still occupy their seats, emblems other than at first are seen upon the area. A sheaf of wheat and the winnowing-fan are enwreathed with a luxuriant grape-vine laden with ripe clusters. — The Hierophant re-enters. [97] PERSEPHONE HiEROPHANT In what plow and sickle earn'd Saving lore the wise discern'd. Bread, of bearded grain a part, Furnish'd forth by fire's new art — Not alone the body's food. For reflection's worth it stood. Gentler views to them were lent As o'er the upturn'd glebe they bent. Watching then through reckon'd term For the green uplifted germ ; From the kernel, scatter'd wide, To the bristling country-side ; Area in circle worn. And bullocks treading out the corn. Even so, their fate to solve, Did the thoughts of men revolve. Of all wisdoms, most profound Was the seed with harvest crown'd Which Triptolemus renew'd. By Demeter thrice imbued. From Eleusis' wave-lapt glade. Round the waiting world convey 'd. [98] EPILOGUE But in mind a region lies That pertains not to the wise, And of mystery a side To reflective thought denied. How should discipline sedate Avail that sphere to penetrate Which cold reason probes in vain, Nor can subtle wit explain? — To the unbound soul alone In ecstatic vision shown. On this holy temple's place But a pedestal and base Could men's aspirations frame Ere the boy lacchus came. Choir lacch', O lacche ! HiEROPHANT Every human effort fine His transfigurement divine ; For a crown and coping cast. The supremest and the last. [99] PERSEPHONE On your hearts what trammels lay 'T was lacchus tore away, Clove the mist that veil'd your eyes, Bade the struggling spirit rise ; Choir lacch', O lacche ! Epopt^ [Not in unison, hut in agitated manner] lacch', O lacche ! — lacch', O lacche ! The HiEROPHANT during this interruption points with his staff toward the area, which with its emblems suddenly sinks down and disappears. The Epoptae direct their gaze with rapt attention upon the chasm thus opened, while the speaker continues. — The music is now of flutes. HiEROPHANT Lifts his starry torch beyond The black vapors of despond, Where looks down a kindlier sky And the fields Elysian lie. [100] EPILOGUE ■ 'T is lacchus wakes a vision than Castalian dews more clear, And of them whose bosoms hold him maketh every man a seer. Choir Maketh every man to see the haven of his mortal quest, With ambrosial winds careening past the Islands of the Blest ; And the spheres, smooth-rolling, breathe their harmonies divine and deep. When his sleep becomes his waking and his waking is his sleep. Epopt^ rAnd the spheres, smooth-rolling, breathe their J harmonies divine and deep, I When my sleep becomes my waking and my V waking is my sleep. HiEROPHANT So the sage, awaking, welcomed the pronounce- ment of his doom ; On the scenes his mind prefigured fell no shadow from the tomb. [101] PERSEPHONE Choir On his vales of contemplation no disturbing image fell, More reposeful and serener than the Mead of Asphodel. And he left for them to ponder who these mysteries deny, Whether dying be not living and to live be not to die. EPOPTyE And we leave for them to ponder who these mysteries deny. Whether dying be not living and to live be not to die. HiEROPHANT Then, as the dragon-fly Will to a newer sky His filmy wings unfold Of amethyst and gold. Let your freed souls aspire. Tuned to the mystic choir, To hearken and to view What they nor heard nor knew, [102] EPILOGUE Who on this disc of earth Found a too early birth ; Ere yet Demeter's woe One world the living know Did to the other wed Of the reputed dead. Choir Happy the man who once these sights hath seen, Ere to a hidden realm the call he hears : He knows life's end, he knows its origin ; He knows the meshwork of his mortal years. What though in spirit destined to endure. Or to new incarnation rise again? Except the recompense were large and sure. Not even this bourn might his frail steps attain. So far, so far, tried virtue turns the scale. — Now, o'er the vista thus to you reveal'd The Queen of Mystery draws her solemn veil ; Your bosom's gates are barr'd, your lips are seal'd. [103] PERSEPHONE Epopt.e I could not say what I behold, 'T is not for human tongue ; No mortal hath its secret told, No earthly minstrel sung. Choir The lily now, and now the rose Alternate bloom and fade : Now on her cheek the day -beam glows, Now sinks to vesper shade. Epopt^ O, 't is no evening of the soul Upon these eyes descends ; A matin song no griefs control Its waking vision lends. [104] EPILOGUE Choir The Mother lives, the Daughter dies 'T is as the leaves do fall. Her spouse, no regent of the skies, Black-brow'd, funereal. EpOPTiE His frown, the ebon crown he wears No terrors hold for me, So long that sovereignty he shares With pale Persephone. THE END [105 ERKELET and UKIAH CALIFORNIA 1914, 1915 I