THE PLAYS OF KSCHYLUS MORLEVS UNIVERSAL LIBRARY MORLEY'S UNIVERSAL LIBRARY. Complete in Sixty-Three Volumes, Is. each, Cloth. 1. SHERIDAN'S PLAYS. 2. PLAYS FROM MOLIERE. By English Dramatists. 3. MARLOWE'S FAUSTUS & GOETHE'S FAUST. 4. CHRONICLE OF THE CID. 5. RABELAIS' GARGANTUA AND THE HEROIC DEEDS OF PANTAGRUEL. 6. THE PRINCE. By Machiavelli. 7. BACON'S ESSAYS. 8. DE FOE'S JOURNAL OF THE PLAGUE YEAR. 9. LOCKE ON CIVIL GOVERNMENT; WITH SIR ROBERT FILMER'S PATRIARGHA. 10. BUTLER'S ANALOGY OF RELIGION. 11. DRYDEN'S VIRGIL. 12. SIR WALTER SCOTT'S DEMONOLOGY AND 'WITCHCRAFT. 13. HERRICK'S HESPERIDES. 14. COLERIDGE'S TABLE TALK: WITH THE ANCIENT MARINER AND CHRISTABE3- 15. BOCCACCIO'S DECAMERON. 16. STERNE'S TRISTRAM SHANDY. 17. HOMER'S ILIAD, Translated by George Chapman. 18. MEDIAEVAL TALES. 19. JOHNSON'S RASSELAS; AND VOLTAIRE'S CANDIDE. 20. PLAYS AND POEMS BY BEN JONSON. 21. HOBBES'S LEVIATHAN. 22. BUTLER'S HUDIBRAS. 23. IDEAL COMMONWEALTHS: MORE'S UTOPIA; BACON'S NEW ATLANTIS ; AND CAM- PANELLA'S CITY OF THE SUN. 24. CAVENDISH'S LIFE OF WOLSEY. 25 a; d 26 DON QUIXOTE (Two Volumes). 27. BURLESQUE PLAYS AND POEMS. [ktion. 28. DANTE'S DIVINE COMEDY. Longfellow's Trans- 29. GOLDSMITH'S VICAR OF WAKEFIELD, PLAYS AND POEMS. 30. FABLES and PROVERBS from the SANSKRIT. 31. CHARLES LAMB'S ESSAYS OF ELIA. MORLEY'S UNIVERSAL LIBRARY. 32. THE HISTORY OF THOMAS ELLWOOD, Written by Himself. 33. EMERSON'S ESSAYS, REPRESENTATIVE MEN, AND SOCIETY AND SOLITUDE. 34- SOUTHEY'S LIFE OF NELSON. 35. DE QUINCEY'S OPIUM EATER, SHAKS- PEARE, GOETHE. 36. STORIES OF IRELAND. By Maria Edgeworth. 37. THE PLAYS OF ARISTOPHANES. Translated by Frere. 38. SPEECHES AND LETTERS. By Edmund Burke. 39- THOMAS A KEMPIS' IMITATION OF CHRIST. 40. POPULAR SONGS OF IRELAND, Collected by Thomas Crofton Croker. 41- THE PLAYS of AESCHYLUS, Translated by R. Potter. 42. GOETHE'S FAUST, the Second Part. 43- FAMOUS PAMPHLETS. 44- SOPHOCLES, Translated by Francklin. 45- TALES OF TERROR AND WONDER. 46. VESTIGES OF THE NATURAL HISTORY OF CREATION. 47- THE BARONS' WARS, &c. By Michael Drayton. 48. COBBETT'S ADVICE TO A YOUNG MAN, 49- THE BANQUET OF DANTE, Translated by Eliza- beth Price Sayer. 50. WALKER'S ORIGINAL. 51. POEMS AND BALLADS BY SCHILLER. 52. PEELE'S PLAYS AND POEMS. 53. HARRINGTON'S OCEANA. 54. EURIPIDES ALCESTIS, ETC. 55. ESSAYS. By Winthrop Mackworth Praed. 56. TRADITIONAL TALES. Allan Cunningham. 57. HOOKER'S ECCLESIASTICAL POLITY. Books I. to IV. 58. EURIPIDES BACCHANALS, ETC. 59. WALTON'S LIVES OF DONNE, WOTTON, HOOKER, AND GEORGE HERBERT ETC 60. ARISTOTLE ON GOVERNMENT! 61. EURIPIDES HECUBA, AND OTHER PLAYS. 62. RABELAIS' HEROIC DEEDS OF PANTA- GRUEL. Books III., IV., and V. 63. A MISCELLANY, containing "PHILOBIBLON," etc., etc. ROUTLEDGE'S POPULAR LIBRARY. Demy 8vo, Cloth, 3s. 6d. 1 Emerson's Works, with Steel Por- trait, (HO pages 2 Lempriere's Classical Dictionary Ton 3 Thomas Carlyle's The French Revo- lution, complete, with Portrait, 650 pp. 5 The Spectator, wi'h Introduction and Index, by Prof. HUSKY HOELEY, 920 pages. 8 Walker's Rhyming Dictionary 9 The Breakfast Table Series, The Autocrat The Professor -The Poet, by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES, with Portrait 10 The Arabian Nights' Entertain- ments, with full-page Mates 12 Curiosities of Literature. Complete Edition by ISAAC D'lSRAELi, with a Portrait 14 Bartlett's Familiar Quotations 15 Cruden's Concordance to the Old and New Testaments, Edited by the Rev. C. S. CAREY 16 The Family Doctor : A Dictionary of Medicine and Surgery, adapted for Family Use/with 5- Illustrations 19 The Works of Charles Lamb, Poetical and Dramatic, Tales, Essays, and Criticisms, Edited by CBAS. KENT 20 Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, Large Type, .50 Illustrations 21 Boeratsky's Golden Treasury, Large Type 25, 26, 27 Boswell's Life of Dr. Johnson, 3 Vols. 28 Crabb's Dictionary of Synonyms 29, 30. 31 Motley's Dutch Republic, 3 Vols. 32 Ten Thousand Wonderful Things 33 Don Quixote 34 Jotephus 35 A Thousand and One Gems of Prose, selected by CHARLES MACE AY, LL.D. 37 Boswell's Life of Dr. Johnson. Com- plete iu One Vol. 58 D'Aubigne^s Story of the Reforma- tion, Translated and Abridged by the llev. JOHN GILL 39 The Letters of Junius, Edited by H. S. WOODFALL 41 Adam Smith's Wealth of Nations 42 White's Natural History of Sel- boriie, Edited by Sir W. JARDINB 48 Plutarch's Lives, Translated by LANGHORNB 49 The Works of Oliver Goldsmith, Comprising Essays, Plays, ! oetical Works, and the V'icar of \Vak 51 Froissart's Chronicles of England, France, and Spain 52 Concordance to the Plays of Shaks- peare, by W. H. D. ADAMS 55 The Adventures of Gil Bias 56 Sterne's Works, complete 57 A Dictionary of Trade Products ; Commercial.Manufuctuiinjt mid other Technical Terms, by P. L. Si > A New Edition, .Revised and E:. 58, 59, 60 The Spectator. Large Type Edition, 3 A'nl*. 62 Milman's History of the Jews 63, 64 Roby's Traditions of Lancashire, 2 Vols. 65 The Practical Lawyer 66 Extraordinary Popular Delusions, CHAKLKS MACKAY 67 History of tte Bastile 68 Foxe's Book of Maityrs. Abridged by T. A. BDCKLKY 69 The Fall of Rome and the Rise of the New Nationalities, J.G SHEPPABD 70 The Works of Father Prout 71 The Modern Speaker and Reciter 72 Romaine on Faith. With Preface by Kev. J. B. OWEN 73 Defoe's Journal of the Plague Year, with an Account of the Fire of London 74 Ferdinand and Isabella, with Notes by J. F. KIRK 75 The Conquest of Mexico, with Notes by J. F. K 1 1 76 Prescott's PM'.ip II. of Spain 77 Robertsonand Prescotts Charles V. 78 The Conquest of Peru, by W. H. PIIKSCOTT. Notes by J. F. KIRK 85 Motley's Rise of the Dutch Republic 86 The Hugueiiots in France, by SAMUEL SMILES 88 Montaigne's Essays. FLORIO'S Translation 89 Carlyle's Lives of Schiller and Sterling 1 90 Grocott's Index to Familiar Quota- tions GEORGE ROUTLEDGE & SONS, Limited, LONDON, MANCHESTER, AND NEW YORK. THE PLAYS OF /ESCHYLUS TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH BY ROBERT POTTER WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY HENRY MORLEY LL.D., PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH LITERATURE AT UNIVERSITY COLLEGE, LONDON FOURTH EDITION LONDON GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS, LIMITED BROADWAY, LUDGATE HILL MANCHESTER AND NEW YORK 1895 MORLEY'S UNIVERSAL LIBRARY. I, Sheridan 1 ! Plays. 35. De Quincey 1 ! Confessions 2. Piny '! from Moliere. By English Dramatists. of an Opium-Eater, &>c. 36. Stories of Ireland. By Miss 3. Marlowfs Faustus and EDGKWORTH. Goethe's Faust. 37. Frere's Aristophanes: 4. Chronicle of the Cid. 5. Rabelais' 'Gargantuaa.nd.the Heroic Deeds of Pantagruel. Acharnians, Knights, Birds. 38. Burke' s Speeches and Letters. 39. Thomas a Kempis. 6. Machiavellfs Prince. 40. Popular Songs of Ireland. 7. Bacon's Essays. 41. Potter's ^Eschylus. 8. Defoe's Journal oj the 42. Goethe's Faust: Part II. Plaue Year. ANSTER'S Translation. g. Locke on Civil Government 43. Famous Pamphlets, and Filmed s "Patriarcha." IO. Butler's Analogy of Religion. 44. Francklin's Sophocles. 45. .flf. G. Lewis's Tales of II. Dryden's Virgil. Terror and Wonder. 12. Scoffs Demonology and 46. Vestiges of the Natural Witchcraft. History oj Creation. 13. Herrick's Hesperides. 47. Drayioris Barons' Wars^ 14. Coleridge's 2 'able-Talk. Nytnphidia, fy>c.\ 15. Boccaccio's Decameron, 48. Cobbett's Advict\ to Young 1 6. Sterne's Tristram Shandy. 17. Chapman's Homer's Iliad. 1 8. Mediizval Tales. Men. 49. Th& Banquet of Dante. 50. Walker's Original. 19. Voltaire's Candide, and 51. Schiller's Poems and B&ll&ds ' Johnsons Rasselas. 2O. y 'onsen's Plays and Poems. 21. Hobbes' s Leviathan. 52 Peele's Plays and Poems. 53. Harrington's Oceana. 22'. Samuel Butler's Hudibras. 54. Euripides : Alcestis and 23 Ideal Commonwealths. 24. Cavendish's Life of Wolsey, other Plays. 55. Praed's Essays. 56. Traditional Tales. 25 & 26. Z>0 Quixote. ALLAN CUNNINGHAM. 27 . Burlesque Plays and Poems. 57- Hooker's Ecclesiastical 28. Dante's Divine Comedy. Polity. Books I. -IV. LONGFELLOW'S Translation. 58. Euripides : The Bacchanah 29. Goldsmith's Vicar of Wake- and other Plays. field, Plays, and Poems. 59. Izaak Walton's Lives. 30. Fables and Proverbs from 60. Aristotle's Politics. the Sanskrit. (Hitopadesa.) 31. Lamb's Essays of Elia. 61. Euripides: Hecuba and other Plays. 32. 7-k History of Thomas 62. Rabelais Sequel to Panta- Ellwand. gruel. 33. Emerson's Essays, &>c. 63. A Miscellany. 34. Southey's Life of Nelson, " Marvels of clear type and general neatness." Daily Telegraph. INTRODUCTION. JESCHYLUS was born in the year 525 before Christ. He was born in Eleusis, a town of Attica, placed on a height near the sea, and opposite the island of Salamis. The river Cephissus flowed through the surrounding plain. Eleusis was a town sacred to the worship of Demeter (Latin, Ceres), Mother Earth, and her daughter Persephone (Proserpine) in whom Pluto took a share typical of the change from summer to winter in the seasons. From Athens to Eleusis there was a Sacred Way with monuments on either side of it, and a Temple of Apollo. Once a year a great procession travelled on that way from Athens to the celebration of the Eleusinian mysteries, the most sacred in all Greece. The old temple of Demeter in Eleusis was standing in the time of /Eschylus, whose father Euphorion is supposed to have been one of its priests. That temple was burnt by the Persians in the year 484 before Christ, in the lifetime of the poet, who was then forty-one years old. The struggle with Persia brought out the full energy of Greece. Literature, which is the expres- sion of the highest life of man, always rises with the energies of which it comes. A people battling strenuously for what it cares for, and should care for, with its entire mind, lifts its thought up to the heights on which alone true poets can be bred. Such energies make strength in every way, and with it the force that creates wealth : then 2227605 6 INTRODUCTION. follows luxury, by which men are tempted to rival one another in misuse of time ; then literature comes down from the heights, descends to satire, or else babbles elegant and empty criticism on the regions she has left. But ^Eschylus was born among the mysteries that felt God's presence in the very earth he trod, and in a day of conflict that could put heroic life into the common citizen of Greece. When thirty-five years old, ^Eschylus not only fought at Marathon, but earned public distinction there " among the bravest of the brave." He was born poet, and poet born into the light of noble days. An old fable tells that when yschy]us was a boy Dionysus (Latin, Bacchus) appeared in dream to him. The boy had fallen asleep while watching a vineyard, the god in his dream bade him write tragedy, and when he awoke his first verses were made. His first public appearance as a tragic writer was at the age of twenty-five, but he was not victorious over competitors until the year in which the Persians burnt the temple of Demeter in Eleusis, when ^Eschylus was forty-one years old. He was fifty-three years old when he gained (B.C. 472) the prize at Athens with a trilogy, a set of three connected pieces of which " The Persians " was the first. And this is the earliest of the plays of yEschylus that has come down to us. He is said to have written seventy plays ; but there remain to us only the seven which are here translated. The Persian war came to an end in the year 470 B.C., and Cimon, the son of Miltiades, had sway in Athens. Two years afterwards, B.C. 468, ^Eschylus, who had then already produced the " Seven against Thebes," was defeated in the contest with a younger tragedian, Sophocles. Soon afterwards ./Eschylus went to the Court of Hiero, King of Syracuse. It is said that he had been accused at Athens of impiety for revealing some part of the Eleusinian mysteries in which he had been early initiated. Hiero died in the year 467 B.C., and yEschylus nine years later, at the age of sixty-seven, in the INTRODUCTION. 7 year 458 B.C., produced his trilogy known as the Oresteia, the one remaining example of the practice of establishing a poetical connection by unity of subject and design in the three tragedies that had been frequently the number offered in competition. This practice ^schylus was first to adopt. The three plays of the Oresteia are the Agamemnon, the Choephorse and the Eumenides. But his plays showed that he was a hero of Marathon not in accord with the political life of Athens as it then stood. In the Eumenides there was an unpopular chorus of Furies, and ^Eschylus again left Athens, to die two years afterwards, aged sixty-nine, at Gela in Sicily, B c. 456. An oracle is said to have foretold that ^schylus would die by a blow from heaven. This oracle is said to have been fulfilled by the manner of his death. An eagle wishing to crack the shell of a tortoise had carried it up to let it fall upon a stone. Mistaking the bald head of the poet for a stone, it let the tortoise fall on that. Spenser applied the tradition to Archbishop Grindal struck by the bolt of Elizabeth's wrath, the Queen being the eagle and the tortoise a political problem : For sitting so with bared scalp An eagle soared high That, weening his white head was chalk, A shell-fish down let fly. She weened the shell- fish to have broke But therewith bruised his brain : So now astonied with the stroke He lies in lingering pain. ^Eschylus was the first of the three great tragedians of ancient Greece ; first in time and highest in power. Sophocles said that he did what was right without knowing it. He himself spoke of his plays as fragments from the great banquet of Homer. His grandeur of thought becomes akin- to the prophetic strain of an Isaiah, when in his " Prometheus Bound " he shadows out a Fate before which the old gods shall bow, and pierces to the sense of days that are not yet. 8 INTRODUCTION. From dramatic recitations by a single actor, joined to song and dance of a trained chorus, ^ischylus first passed to the employment of a second actor, each actor changing his mask to change his part. This was the first introduction of a true dramatic dialogue, and the dialogue then became the main part of the play, the use of the chorus being limited. But a second actor gave opportunity only for scenes of dialogue between two persons of the story at one time. Sophocles first introduced a third actor to take part in dialogue upoa the stage, and ^Eschylus afterwards adopted this improve- ment. ^Eschylus also improved the masks in use, and the whole manner of representing persons of the story, and he taught the chorus to be actors, enforcing by their gestures and their dance movements the poetic purpose of each scene. To him a " well-trod stage " was a first necessity, if he was to show poetry in action. We have come down from Olympus to the mole-hill say, rather, the mud-heap when we have left Prometheus for the Parisian stage villain in evening dress who lolls and lounges and lights cigarettes. But let Apollo answer it. The sun himself breeds maggots in a dead dog, being a god kissing carrion. From ^Eschylus to Monsieur Maquignon is it not change from free flight of the soul to lively rotting of the body it has left ? In the name of ^Eschylus, their great forefather, let dramatists and actors dare to mount. Some dare; let others follow. Life is longer on the hill than by the marsh. There is not a poor super on the stage who has no day to mark with a victory in which he may find, like ^Eschylus, his Marathon, and through which he learns to flash, out of a true thought in himself, life-giving fire into the true conception of the poet, con- suming fire on the false offerings that scatter filth upon the altar of his Art. H. M. August 1886. PROMETHEUS CHAINED. ^ESCHYLUS wrote three Tragedies on the story of Prome- theus : the first exhibited him as carrying the sacred gift of fire to men ; the second as chained to Caucasus ; the third as delivered from his chains. Of these the second only remains to us. The short account which Prometheus gives in this of the barbarous state of man before he taught them the civilizing arts makes us regret the loss of the first ; and we have good reason to imagine that the portrait of Hercules in the third, delineated by this great master, must have been inimitable. There is in this remaining drama a sublimity of conception, a strength, a fire, a certain savage dignity peculiar to this bold writer. The scenery is the greatest that the human imagination ever formed : the wild and desolate rock frowning over the sea, the stern and im- perious sons of Pallas and Styx holding up Prometheus to its rifted side whilst Vulcan fixes his chains, the Nymphs of the Ocean flying to its summit to commiserate his unhappy state, old Oceanus on his hippogriff, the appearance of 16, the descent of Mercury, the whirlwind tearing up the sands, swelling the boisterous sea, and dashing its waves to the stars, the vollied thunders rolling all their fiery rage against the rock, and the figure of Prometheus unappalled at this terrible storm, and bidding defiance to Jupiter, would io PROMETHEUS CHAINED. require the utmost effort of Salvator Rosa's genius to repre- sent them. Yet is the horrid greatness of this drama tempered with much tenderness : the reluctance of Vulcan to execute the severe commands of Jupiter is finely con- trasted to the eager, unfeeling insolence of Strength and Force ; the character of 16 is mournfully gentle ; and the Oceanitidse are of a most amiable mildness joined to a firm but modest prudence ; even the untameable ferocity of Prometheus discovers under it a benevolence that interests us deeply in his sufferings. PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. STRENGTH AND FORCE. VULCAN. PROMETHEUS. OCEAN us. Io. MERCURY. CHORUS. NYMPHS OF THE OCEAN, STRENGTH, FORCE, VULCAN, PROMETHEUS. STRENGTH. At length then to the wide earth's extreme bounds, To Scythia are we come, those pathless wilds Where human footstep never marked the ground. Now, Vulcan, to thy task ; at Jove's command, Fix to these high-projecting rocks this vain Artificer of man ; each massy link Draw close, and bind his adamantine chains. Thy radiant pride, the fiery flame, that lends Its aid to every art, he stole, and bore The gift to mortals ; for which bold offence The gods assign him this just punishment; PROMETHEUS CHAINED. rl That he may learn to reverence the power Of Jove, and moderate his love to man. VULCAN. Stern powers, your harsh commands have here Nor find resistance. My less hardy mind, [an end, Averse to violence, shrinks back, and dreads To bind a kindred god to this wild cliff, Exposed to every storm ; but strong constraint Compels me; I must steel my soul, and dare : Jove's high commands require a prompt observance. High-thoughted son of truth-directing Themis, Thee with indissoluble chains, perforce, Must I now rivet to this savage rock, Where neither human voice, nor human form, Shall meet thine eye, but parching in the beams, Unsheltered, of yon fervid sun, thy bloom Shall lose its grace, and make thee wish th' approach Of grateful evening mild, whose dusky stole Spangled with gems shall veil his fiery heat ; And night upon the whitening ground breathe frore, But soon to melt, touched by his orient ray. So shall some present ill with varied pain Afflict thee ; nor is he yet born, whose hand Shall set thee free : thus thy humanity Receives its meed, that thou, a god, regardless Of the gods' anger, honouredst mortal man With courtesies, which justice not approves. Therefore the joyless station of this rock Unsleeping, unreclining, shalt thou keep, And many a groan, many a loud lament Throw out in vain, nor move the rig'rous breast Of Jove, relentless in his youthful power. STR. No more ; why these delays, this foolish pity? Dost thou not hate a god by gods abhorred, That prostitutes thy radiant boast to man? 12 PROMETHEUS CHAINED. VUL. Strong are the ties of kindred and long converse. STR. Well ; but to disobey thy sire's commands, Barest thou do that ? Is not that fear more strong ? VUL. Soft pity never touched thy ruthless mind. STR. Will thy vain pity bring relief? Forbear, Nor waste thyself in what avails not him. VUL. Abhorred be all the fine skill of my hands. STR. And why abhorred ? For of these present toils Thy art, in very truth, is not the cause. , VUL. Yet wish I it had been some other's lot. STR. All have their lot appointed, save to reign In heaven, for liberty is Jove's alone. VUL. Truth guides thy words, nor have I to gainsay. STR. Why thus reluctant then to bind his chains ? Let not thy sire observe these slow delays. VUL. The manacles are ready, thou mayst see them. STR. Bind them around his hands ; with all thy force Strike, nail them fast, drive them into the rock. VUL. Thus far the work is finished, and not slightly. STR. Strike harder, strain them, let them not relax ; His craft will work unthought-of ways t' escape. VUL. This arm too is inextricably fixed. STR. And now clasp this secure, that he may learn How impotent his craft, opposed to Jove. VuL. This work he only can with justice blame. STR. Across his breast draw now this stubborn bar Of adamant, fix firm its sharpened point. VUL. Thy miseries, Prometheus, I bewail. STR. Still dost thou linger ? Still bewail the foes Of Jove ? Take heed lest thou bewail thyself. VUL. Thou seest an object horrible to sight. STR. I see him honoured as his deeds deserve. But haste thee, fix this strong habergeon on him. VUL. Constraint lies on me ; urge not thou its rigour. PROMETHEUS CHAINED. 15 STR. Urge thee ? I will, and in a higher tone. Downwards ; with all thy force enring his legs. VUL. This too is finished, with no ling'ring speed. STR. Strike hard, drive deep their penetrating points. Severe his eye, who nicely scans these works. VUL. Thy voice is harsh, and rugged as thy form. STR. Now fair befall thy softness, yet upbraid not My ruder and unpitying ruthlessness. VUL. Let us be gone ; the rig'rous task is done. STR. Now triumph in thy insolence, now steal The glory of the gods, and bear the gift To mortal man ; will they relieve thee now ? False is the boasted prudence of thy name, Or wanted now to free thee from thy fate. PROMETHEUS (alone). Ethereal air, and ye swift-winged Ye rivers springing from fresh founts, ye waves, [winds, That o'er th' interminable ocean wreathe Your crisped smiles, thou all-producing earth, And thee, bright sun, I call, whose flaming orb Views the wide world beneath, see what, a god, I suffer from the gods ; with what fierce pains, Behold, what tortures for revolving ages I here must struggle ; such unseemly chains This new-raised ruler of the gods devised. Ah me ! That groan bursts from my anguished heart, My present woes and future to bemoan. When shall these suffrings find their destined end ? But why that vain inquiry ? My clear sight Looks through the future ; unforeseen no ill Shall come on me ; behoves me then to bear Patient my destined fate, knowing how vain To struggle with necessity's strong power. But to complain, or not complain, alike Is unavailable. For favours shown I 4 PROMETHEUS CHAINED. To mortal man I bear this weight of woe ; Hid in a hollow cane the fount of fire I privately conveyed, of every art Productive, and the noblest gift to men. And for this slight offence, woe, woe is me 1 I bear these chains, fixed to this savage rock, Unsheltered from th' inclemencies of th' air. Ah me ! what sound, what softly breathing odour Steals on my sense ? Be you immortal gods, Or mortal men, or of th' heroic race, Whoe'er have reached this wild rock's extreme cliff, Spectators of my woes, or what your purpose, Ye see me bound, a wretched god, abhorred By Jove, and every god that treads his courts, For my fond love to man. Ah me ! again I hear the sound of flutt'ring nigh ; the air Pants to the soft beat of light-moving wings ; All, that approaches now, is dreadful to me. PROMETHEUS, CHORUS. CHOR. Forbear thy fears : a friendly train On busy pennons flutt'ring light, We come, our sire not asked in vain, And reach this promontory's height. The clanging iron's horrid sound Re-echoed through our 'caves profound; And though my cheek glows with shame's crimson dyr\ Thus with unsandalled foot with winged speed I fly. PRO. Ah me ! ah me ! V e virgin sisters, who derive your race From fruitful Thetis, and th' embrace Of old Oceanus, your sire, that rolls Around the wide world his unquiet waves, This way turn your eyes, behold PROMETHEUS CHAINED. With what a chain fixed to tHs rugged steep TV unernicd station of the ;;ock I keep. CHOK. I see, I see; and o'er my eyes, Surcharged with sorrow's tearful rain, Dark'ning the misty clouds arise ; I see thy adamantine chain ; In its strong grasp thy limbs confined, And withering in the parching wind : Such the stern power of heaven's new-sceptred lord, And law- controlling Jove's irrevocable word. PRO. Beneath the earth, Beneath the gulfs of Tartarus, that spread Interminable o'er the dead, Had his stern fury fixed this rigid chain, Nor gods nor men had triumphed in my pain. But pendent in th' ethereal air, The pageant gratifies my ruthless foes, That gaze, insult, and glory in my woes. CHOR. Is there a god, whose sullen soul Feels a stern joy in thy despair? Owns he not pity's soft control, And drops in sympathy the tear ? All, all, save Jove ; with fury driven Severe he tames the sons of heaven ; And he will tame them, till some power arise To wrest from his strong hand the sceptre of the skies. PRO. Yet he, e'en he, That o'er the gods holds his despotic reign, And fixes this disgraceful chain, Shall need my aid, the counsels to disclose Destructive to his honour and his throne. But not the honied blandishment, that flows From his alluring lips, shall aught avail ; His rigid menaces shall fail ; 16 PROMETHEUS CHAINED. Nor will I make the fatal secret known, Till his proud hands this galling chain unbind, And his remorse soothes my indignant mind. CHOR. Bold and intrepid is thy soul, Fired with resentment's warmest glow ; And thy free voice disdains control, Disdains the tort'ring curb of woe. My softer bosom, thrilled with fear Lest heavier ills await thee here, By milder counsels wishes thee repose : For Jove's relentless rage no tender pity knows. PRO. Stern though he be, And, in the pride of power terrific drest, Rears o'er insulted right his crest, Yet gentler thoughts shall mitigate his soul, When o'er his head this storm shall roll ; Then shall his stubborn indignation bend, Submit to sue, and court me for a friend. CHOR. But say, relate at large for what offence Committed doth the wrath of Jove inflict This punishment so shameful, so severe : Tnstruct us, if the tale shocks not thy soul. PRO. 'Tis painful to relate it, to be silent Is pain : each circumstance is full of woe. When stern debate amongst the gods appeared, And discord in the courts of heaven was roused ; Whilst against Saturn some conspiring willed To pluck him from the throne, that Jove might reign ; And some, averse, with ardent zeal opposed Jove's rising power and empire o'er the gods ; My counsels, though discreetest, wisest, best, Moved not the Titans, those impetuous sons Of Ouranus and Terra, whose high spirits, Disdaining milder measures, proudly weened PROMETHEUS CHAINED. 17 To seize by force the sceptre of the sky. Oft did my goddess mother, Themis now, Now Gaia, under various names designed, Herself the same, foretell me the event, That not by violence, that not by power, But gentle arts, the royalty of heaven Must be obtained. Whilst thus my voice advised, Their headlong rage deigned me not e'en a look. What then could wisdom dictate, but to take My mother, and with voluntary aid Abet the cause of Jove ? Thus by my counsels In the dark deep Tartarean gulf enclosed Old Saturn lies, and his confederate powers. For these good deeds the tyrant of the skies Repays me with these dreadful punishments. For foul mistrust of those that serve them best Breathes its black poison in each tyrant's heart. Ask you the cause for which he tortures me ? I will declare it. On his father's throne Scarce was he seated, on the chiefs of heaven He showered his various honours ; thus confirming His royalty ; but for unhappy mortals Had no regard, and all the present race Willed to extirpate, and to form anew. None, save myself, opposed his will ; I dared ; And boldly pleading saved them from destruction, Saved them from sinking to the realms of night. For this offence I bend beneath these pains, Dreadful to suffer, piteous to behold : For mercy to mankind I am not deemed Worthy of mercy ; but with ruthless hate In this uncouth appointment am fixed here A spectacle dishonourable to Jove. CHOR. Of iron is he formed and adamant, i8 PROMETHEUS CHAINED. Whose breast with social sorrow does not melt At thy afflictions : I nor wished to see th Nor see them but with anguish at rny h PRO. It is a sight that strikes my friends \vith pity. CHOR. But had th' offence no further aggravai" PRO. I hid from men the foresight of their fate. CHOR. What couldst thou find to remedy that ill ? PRO. I sent blind Hope t' inhabit in their hearts. CHOR. A blessing hast thou given to mortal man. PRO. Nay more, with generous zeal I gave them fire. CHOR. Do mortals now enjoy the blazing gift? PRO. And by it shall g'\v biith to various arts. CHOR. For such often o-.-s doth the wrath of Jove Tims punish thee, rcbxing nought of pain? And is no bound prescribed to thy affliction ? PRO. None else, but when his own will shall incline him. CHOR. Who shall incline his \vill? Hast thou no hope? Dost thou not see that thou hast much offended? But to point out th' offence to me were painful; And might sound harsh to thee : forbear we then; Bethink thee how thy ills may find en end. PRO. How easy, when the foot is not entangled In misery's thorny maze, to give monitions And precepts lo th' afflicted ! Of these things I was not unadvised ; and my offence Was voluntary ; in man's cause I drew These evils on my head : but ills like these, Oa this aerial rock to waste away, This desert and unsocial precipice, My mind presaged it not. But cease your grief, Wail not my 'present woes ; on the rough point Of this firm cliff descend, and there observe What further may betide me, e'en the whole PROMETHEUS CHAINED. 19 Of my hard fate ; indulge me, O indulge This my request, an 1 sympathize with me Thus wretched ;. for affliction knows no rest, But rolls from breast to breast its vagrant tide. CHOR. Not to th' umuliing are thy words directed. With light foot now this nimble- moving seat, This pure air, through whose liquid fields the birds Winnow their wanton v, e ; and now Alight I on this rude and craggy rod:, Anxious to hear all thy unhappy t:t!e. OCEANUS, PROMETIIHUS, CHORUS. OCEANUS. Far distan", through the vast expanse of air, To thee, Prometheus, on ti is s\viu-winged steed Whose neck unreined obeys my will, I come, In social sorrow sympathizing with thee. To this, the near affinity of blood Moves me ; and be assured, that tie apart, There is not who can tax my dear regard Deeper than thou : believe me, this is truth, Not the false glozings of a flatt'ring tongue. Instruct me then in what my power may serve thee, For never .shall thou say thou hast a friend More firm, more constant, than Oceanus. PRO. Ah me ! What draws thee hither? Art thou come Spectator of my toils ? How hast thou ventured To leave the ocean waves, from thee so called, Thy rock-roofed grottos arched by nature's hand, And land upon this iron-teeming earth ? Comest thou to visit and bewail my ills ? Behold this sight, behold -this friend of Jove, Th' assertor of his empire, bending here Beneath a weight of woes by him inflicted. OCEA. I see it all, and wish to counsel thee, 20 PROMETHEUS CHAINED. Wise as thou art, to milder measures : learn To know thyself ; new model thy behaviour, As the new monarch of the gods requires. What if thy harsh and pointed speech should reach The ear of Jove, though on his distant throne High-seated, might they not inflame his rage T' inflict such tortures, that thy present pains Might seem a recreation and a sport ? Cease then, unhappy sufferer, cease thy braves, And meditate the means of thy deliverance. To thee perchance this seems the cold advice Of doting age ; yet, trust me, woes like these Are earnings of the lofty-sounding tongue. But thy unbending spirit disdains to yield E'en to afflictions, to the present rather Ambitious to add more. Yet shalt thou not, If my voice may be heard, lift up thy heel To kick against the pricks ; so rough, thou seest So uncontrolled the monarch of the skies. But now I go, and will exert my power, If haply I may free thee from thy pains. Meanwhile be calm ; forbear this haughty tone : Has not thy copious wisdom taught thee this, That mischief still attends the petulant tongue ? PRO. I gratulate thy fortune, that on thee No blame hath lighted, though associate with me In all, and daring equally. But now Forbear, of my condition take no care ; Thou wilt not move him ; nothing moves his rigour : Take heed then, lest to go brings harm on thee. OCEA. Wiser for others than thyself I find Thy thoughts ; yet shalt thou not withhold my speed. And I have hopes, with pride I speak it, hopes T' obtain this grace, and free thee from thy sufferings. PROMETHEUS CHAINED. 21 PRO. For this thou hast my thanks ; thy courtesy With grateful memory ever shall be honoured. But think not of it, the attempt were vain, Nor would thy labour profit me ; cease then, And leave me to my fate : however wretched, I wish not to impart my woes to others. OCEA. No ; for thy brother's fate, th' unhappy Atlas, Afflicts me : on the western shore he stands, Supporting on his shoulders the vast pillar Of Heaven and Earth, a weight of cumbrous grasp. Him too, the dweller of Cilicia's caves, I saw, with pity saw, Earth's monstrous son, With all his hundred heads, subdued by Force, The furious Typhon, who 'gainst all the gods Made war; his horrid jaws with serpent-hiss Breathed slaughter, from his eyes the gorgon-glare Of baleful lightnings flashed, as his proud force Would rend from Jove his empire of the sky. But him the vengeful bolt, instinct with fire, Smote sore, and dashed him from his haughty vaunts, Pierced through his soul, and withered all his strength. Thus stretched out huge in length beneath the roots Of ^Etna, near Trinacria's narrow sea, Astonied, blasted, spiritless he lies ; On whose high summit Vulcan holds his seat, And forms the glowing mass. In times to come Hence streams of torrent fire with hideous roar Shall burst, and with its wasteful mouths devour All the fair fields of fruitful Sicily. Such rage shall Typhon, blasted as he is With Jove's fierce lightning, pour incessant forth In smoking whirlwinds and tempestuous flame. PRO. Thou art not unexperienced, nor hast need Of my instruction ; save thyself, how best 22 PROMETHEUS CHAINED. Thy wisdom shall direct thee. I will bear My present fate, till Jove's harsh wrath relents. OCEA. Know'st thou not this, Prometheus, that soft speech Is to distempered wrath medicinal ? PRO. When seasonably the healing balm's applied ; Else it exasperates the swelling heart. OCEA. But in the fair endeavour, in th' attempt, What disadvantage, tell me, dost thou see ? PRO. Unfruitful labour, and light-thoughted fslly. OCEA. Be that my weakness then. Oft when the wise Appears not wise, he works the greatest good. PRO. This will be deemed my simple policy. OCEA. These words indeed remand me to my grotto. PRO. Cease to bewail me, lest thou wake his wrath. OCEA. What, the new monarch's of heaven's potent throne ? PRO. Take care his indignation be not roused. OCEA. Thy misery shall be my monitor. PRO. Go then, be cautious, hold thy present judgment. OCEA. Thy words add speed to my despatch. Already My plumed steed his levelled wings displays To fan the liquid air, through fond desire In his own lodge his wearied speed to rest. PROMETHEUS, CHORUS. CHOR. For thee I heave the heart-felt sigh, My bosom melting at thy woes ; For thee my tear-distilling eye In streams of tender sorrow flows : For Jove's imperious ruthless soul, That scorns the power of mild control, Chastens with horrid tort'ring pain Not known to gods, before his iron reign. PROMETHEUS CHAINED. 23 E'en yet this ample region o'er Hoarse strains of sullen woe resound, Thy state, thy brother's state deplore, Age-honoured glories ruined round. Thy woes, beneath the sacred shade Of Asia's pastured forests laid, The chaste inhabitant bewails Thy groins re-echoing through his plaintive vales. The Colchian virgin, whose bold hand Undaunted grasps the warlike spear ; On earth's last verge the Scythian band, The torpid lake Msejotis near ; Arabia's martial race, that wield The sharp lanoe in th' embattled field, Through all their rock-built cities moan, The crags of Caucasus return the groan. One other, ere thy galling chain, Of heaven's high sons with tortures quelled, That rack each joint, each sinew strain, Titanian Atlas I beheld ; His giant strength condemned to bear The solid, vast, and pond'rous sphere. The springs whose fresh streams swell around, The hoarse waves from their depths profound, And all the gloomy realms below, Sigh to his sighs, and murmur to his woe. PRO. It is not pride ; deem nobler of me, virgins ; It is not pride, that held me silent thus ; The thought of these harsh chains, that hang me here. Cuts to my heart. Yet who, like me, advanced To their high dignity our new-raised gods ? 24 PROMETHEUS CHAINED. But let me spare the tale, to you well known. The ills of man you've heard : I formed his mind, And through the cloud of barb'rous ignorance Diffused the beams of knowledge. I will speak, Not taxing them with blame, but my own gifts Displaying, and benevolence to them. They saw indeed, they heard ; but what availed Or sight, or sense of hearing, all things rolling Like the unreal imagery of dreams, In wild confusion mixed ? The lightsome wall Of finer masonry, the raftered roof They knew not ; but, like ants still buried, delved Deep in the earth, and scooped their sunless caves. Unmarked tae seasons changed, the biting winter, ^he flower perfumed spring, the ripening summer Fertile of fruits. At random all their works, Till I instructed them to mark the stars, Their rising, and, a harder science yet, Their setting. The rich train of marshalled numbers I taught them, and the meet array of letters. T" impress these precepts on their hearts I sent Memory, the active mother of all wisdom. I taught the patient steer to bear the yoke, In all his toils joint-labourer with man. By me the harnessed steed was trained to whirl The rapid car, and grace the pride of wealth. The tall barque, lightly bounding o'er the waves, I taught its course, and winged its flying sail. To man I gave these arts ; with all my wisdom Yet want I now one art, that useful art To free myself from these afflicting chains. CHOR. Unseemly are thy sufferings, sprung from error And impotence of mind. And now enclosed With all these ills, as some unskilful leech PROMETHEUS CHAINED. 25 That sinks beneath his malady, thy soul Desponds, nor seeks medicinal relief. PRO. Hear my whole story, thou wilt wonder more, What useful arts, what science I invented. This first and greatest ; when the fell disease Preyed on the human frame, relief was none, Nor healing drug, nor cool refreshing draught, Nor pain-assuaging unguent ; but they pined Without redress, and wasted, till I taught them To mix the balmy medicine, of power To chase each pale disease, and soften pain. I taught the various modes of prophecy, What truth the dream portends, the omen what Of nice distinction, what the casual sight That meets us on the way, the flight of birds, When to the right, when to the left they take Their airy course, their various ways of life, Their feuds, their fondnesses, their social flocks. I taught th' Haruspex to inspect the entrails, Their smoothness, -and their colour to the gods Grateful, the gall, the liver streaked with veins, The limbs involved in fat, and the long chine Placed on the blazing altar, from the smoke And mounting flame to mark th' unerring omen. These arts I taught. And all the secret treasures Deep buried in the bowels of the earth, Brass, iron, silver, gold, their use to man, Let the vain tongue make what high vaunts it may, Are my inventions all ; and, in a word, Prometheus taught each useful art to man. CHOR. Let not thy love to man o'erleap the bounds Of reason, nor neglect thy wretched state ; So my fond hope suggests thou shalt be free From these base chains, nor less in power than Jove. 2 6 PROMETHEUS CHAINED. PRO. Not thus, it is not in the Fates that thus These things should end ; crushed with a thousand wrongs, A thousand woes, I shall escape these chains. Necessity is stronger far than art. CHO. Who then is ruler of necessity ? PRO. The triple fates and unforgetting furies. CHOR. Must Jove then yield to their superior power ? PRO. He no way shall escape his destined fate. CHOR. What, but eternal empire, is his fate? PRO. Thou may'st not know this now ; forbear t' inquire. CHOR. Is it of moment what thou keep'st thus close ? PRO. No more of this discourse, it is not time Now to disclose that which requires the seal Of strictest secrecy ; by guarding which I shall escape the misery of these chains. CHORUS. Strophe. Never, never may my soul Jove's all-ruling power defy ; Never feel his harsh control, Sov'reign ruler of the sky. When the hallowed steer has bled, When the sacred feast is spread, 'Midst the crystal waves below, Whence father Ocean's boundless billows flow, Let not my foot be slow ; There, th 1 ethereal guests among, No rude speech disgrace my tongue. May my mind this rev'rence keep ; Print it strong, and grave it deep. Antistrophe. When through life's extended scene Hope her steadfast lustie throws, PROMETHEUS CHAINED. 27 Swells the soul with joy serene, With sublimest triumph glows. Seest thou this pure lustre shine ? Are these heart-felt raptures thine ? My cold blood curdles in my veins, To see thy hideous woes, thy tort'ring pains, And adamantine chains. Thy free soul, untaught to fear, Scorned the danger threat'ning near ; And for mortals dared defy The sovereign monarch of the sky. Epode. Vain thy ardour, vain thy grace, They nor force nor aid repay ; Like a dream man's feeble race, Short-lived reptiles of a day. Shall their weak devices move Th' ordered harmony of Jove ? Touched with pity of thy pain, All sad and slow I pour the moral strain ; Changed from that melting vein, When the light mellifluous measure Round thy bath, and round thy bed For our sea-nymph sister spread, Awoke young love and bridal pleasure And poured the soul of harmony, To greet the bright Hesione. lo, PROMETHEUS, CHORUS. lo. Whither, ah, whither am I borne ? To what rude shore, what barb'rous race ? O thou, Whoe'er thou art, that chained to that bleak rock, The seat of desolation, ruest thy crimes, 28 PROMETHEUS CHAINED. Say on what shore my wretched footsteps stray. Again that sting ! Ah me, that form again ! With all his hundred eyes the earth-born Argus-^- Cover it, Earth ! See, how it glares upon me, The horrid spectre ! Wilt thou not, O Earth, Cover the dead, that from thy dark abyss He comes to haunt me, to pursue my steps, And drive me foodless o'er the barren strand ? Hoarse sounds the reed-compacted pipe, a note Sullen and drowsy. Miserable me ! Whither will these wide-wand'ring errors lead me ? How, son of Saturn, how have I offended, That with these stings, these tortures thou pursuest me, And drivest to madness my affrighted soul ! Hear me, supreme of gods, O hear thy suppliant, Blast me with lightnings, bury me in th' earth, Or cast me to the monsters of the sea ; But spare these toils, spare these wide-wand'ring errors, Which drive me round the world, and know no rest. CHOR. Hear'st thou the voice of this lamenting virgin ? For such she is, though in that form disguised. PRO. I hear her griefs, that whirl her soul to madness, Daughter of Inachus, whose love enflames The heart of Jove ; hence Juno's jealous rage Drives the poor wanderer restless o'er the world. lo. W T hence is it that I hear my father's name ? Speak to my misery, tell me who thou art ; What wretch art thou, that to a wretch like me Utterest these truths, naming the malady, Which, heaven-inflicted, stings my tortured soul To frenzy? Hence with hurrying steps I rove Foodless, pursued by never ceasing wrath. Ah me ! What child of misery ever suffered Misery like mine? But tell me, clearly tell me PROMETHEUS CHAINED* 20 What woes await me yet, what ease, what cure ? Say, if thou know'st, speak, tell a wand'ring virgin. PRO. All, thou canst wish to learn, I'll tell thee clearly, Wrapt in no veil abstruse ; but in clear terms, As friend to friend. Thine eyes behold Prometheus, Whose warm benevolence gave fire to men. lo. O thou, the common blessing of mankind, Wretched Prometheus, wherefore are these sufferings ? PRO. Scarce have I ceased lamenting my misfortunes. lo. And wilt thou not allow me that sad office ? PRO. Ask what thou wilt, thou shalt learn all from me. lo. Say then, who bound thee in that rifted rock ? PRO. The ruthless will of Jove, but Vulcan's hand. lo. In what offending art thou chastened thus ? PRO. Suffice it thee so much has been declared. lo. Say then what time shall end my wretched wand'rings. PRO. Better repose in ignorance, than know. lo. Whate'er my woes to come, hide them not from me. PRO. That favour unreluctant could I grant thee. lo. Why this delay then to declare the whole ? PRO. Ungrateful task to rend thy soul with anguish. lo. Regard not me more than is pleasing to me. PRO. Conjured thus strongly, I must speak. Hear then. CHOR. Not yet ; this mournful pleasure let me share : Let us first learn the story of her woes ; Her lips will teach us each sad circumstance Of misery past ; the future be thy task. PRO. Vouchsafe t' indulge their wish ; they merit it ; And are besides the sisters of thy father. Nor light the recompense, when they, who hear, Melt at the melancholy tale, and drop, In pity drop, the sympathizing tear. lo. Ill would excuse become me, or denial ; Take then the plain unornamented tale 30 JPR&METHEUS CHAINED. \ Ye wish to hear; though sad the task enjoined, And hard ; for how relate the heaven-sent tempest That burst upon my head, my form thus changed And all the weight of woe that overwhelms me ? Still, when retired to rest, air-bodied forms Visit my slumbers nightly, soothing me With gentle speech, " Blest maid, why hoard for ever Thy virgin treasure, when the highest nuptials Await thy choice ; the flames of soft desire Have touched the heart of Jove ; he burns with love : Disdain not, gentle virgin, ah ! disdain not The couch of Jove ; to Lerna's deep recess, Where graze thy father's herds the meads along, Go, gentle virgin, crown the god's desires." The night returns, the visionary forms Return again, and haunt my troubled soul, Forbidding rest, till to my father's ear I dared disclose the visions of the night. To Pytho, to Dodona's vocal grove He sent his seers, anxious to know* what best Was pleasing to the gods. Returned they bring Dark-uttered answers of ambiguous sense. At length one oracle distinct and plain Pronounced its mandates, charging Inachus To drive me from his house and from my country, To rove at large o'er earth's extremes! bounds : Should he refuse, the vengeful bolt of Jove, Winged with red flames, would all his race destroy. Obedient to the Pythian god he drove me Unwilling from his house, himself unwilling Compelled by Jove, and harsh necessity. Straight was my sense disordered, my fair form Changed as you see, disfigured with these horns ; And tortured with the bryze's horrid sting, PROMETHEUS CHAINED. 31 t Wild with my pain with frantic speed I hurried To Cenchrga!s vale with silver-winding streams Irriguous, and the fount whence Lerna spreads Its wide expanse of waters ; close behind In wrathful mood walked Argus, earth-born herdsman, With all his eyes observant of my steps. Him unawares a sudden fate deprived Of life ; whilst I, stung with that heaven-sent pest, Am driven with devious speed from land to land. Thou hast my tale. If aught of woes to come Thy prescient mind divines, relate them freely ; Nor through false pity with fallacious words Soothe my vain hopes, my soul abhors as base The fabling tongue of glozing courtesy. CHOR. No more, no more, forbear. Ah never, never Conceived I that a tale so strange should reach My ears ; that miseries, woes, distresses, terrors, Dreadful to sight, intolerable to sense, Should shock me thus : woe, woe, unhappy fate ! Ho\v my soul shudders at the fate of lo ! PRO. Already dost thou sigh, already tremble ! Check these emotions till the whole is heard. CHOR. Speak, show us : to the sick some gleam of comfort Flows from the knowledge of their pains to come. PRO. Your first request with ease has been obtained ; For from her lips you wished to hear the tale Of her afflictions. Hear the rest ; what woes From Juno's rage await this suff'ring virgin. And thou with deep attention mark my words, Daughter of Inachus ; and learn from them The traces of thy way. First then, from hence Turn to the orient sun, and pass the height Of these uncultured mountains ; thence descend 32 PROMETHEUS CHAINED. To where the wandering Scythians, trained to bear The distant-wounding bow, on wheels aloft Roll on their wattled cottages ; to these Approach not nigh, but turn thy devious steps Along the rough verge of the murm'ring main, And pass the barb'rous country : on the left The Chalybes inhabit, whose rude hands Temper the glowing steel ; beware of these, A savage and inhospitable race. Thence shalt thou reach the banks of that proud stream, Which from its roaring torrent takes its name ; But pass it not, tempt not its dangerous depths Unfordable, till now thy weary steps Shall reach the distant bound of Caucasus, Monarch of mountains ; from whose extreme height The bursting flood rolls down his power of waters. Passing those star-aspiring heights, descend Where to the south the Amazonian tents, Hostile to men, stretch o'er the plain ; whose troops In after times shall near Thermodon's banks Fix in Themiscyra's towers their martial rule, Where Salmydesia points her cruel rocks, And glories in her wrecks : this female train With courteous zeal shall guide thee in thy way. Arriving where the dark Cimmerian lake Spreads from its narrow mouth its vast expanse, Leave it, and boldly plunge thy vent'rous foot In the Maeotic straits ; the voice of fame Shall eternize thy passage, and from thee Call it the Bosphorus : there shalt thou quit The shores of Europe, and intrepid reach The continent of Asia Seems he now, This tyrant of the skies, seems he in all Of fierce and headlong violence, when his love PROMETHEUS CHAINED. 33 Plunges a mortal in such deep distresses ? A rugged wooer, virgin, have thy charms Won thee ; for be assured what I have told thee Is but a prelude to the woes untold. lo. Ah, miserable me ! PRO. Again thai exclamation, that deep groan ! What wilt thou do, when thou shalt learn the rest ? CHOR. Remains there aught of ills yet to be told ? PRO. A wide tempestuous sea of baleful woes. lo. What then has life desirable ? Why rather From this rude cliff leap I not headlong down, And end my woes ? Better to die at once, Than linger out a length of life in pain. PRO. Ill wouldst thou bear my miseries, by the Fates Exempt from death, the refuge of th' afflicted. But my afflictions know no bounds, till Jove Falls from th' imperial sovereignty of heaven. lo. Shall he then fall? Shall the time come, when Jove Shall sink dethroned ? I think I should rejoice To see the tyrant's ruin. Should I not, Since from his hands I suffer all these ills. PRO. Then be thou well assured it shall be so. lo. And who shall wrest th' imperial sceptre from him ? PRO. Himself, destroyed by his improvident counsels. lo. Oh say, if harmless what I ask, say how. PRO. Urging a marriage he shall dearly rue. lo. Heaven-sprung, or mortal ? If permitted, say. PRO. What matters which ? It may not be disclosed. lo. Shall then a wife deprive him of the throne? PRO. She greater than the sire shall bear a son. lo. Has he no means of power t' avert this fate? PRO. None, till from these vile chains I shall be free. lo. And who, 'gainst Jove's high will, shall set thee free? D 34 PROMETHEUS CHAINED. PRO. One, of necessity, from thee descended. lo. From me ! My son release thee from thy pains ? PRO. Third of thy race, first numb'ring ten descents. lo. Oracular this, of difficult conjecture. PRO. Check then thy wish, nor seek to know thy toils. lo. Do not hold forth a grace, then snatch it from me. PRO. Of two relations I will grant thee either. lo. Propose the two, then leave the choice to me. PRO. Shall I declare the rest of thy misfortunes, Or dost thou wish to know him that shall free me? CIIOR. The first to her,' to me this other grace Vouchsafe, nor my request treat with disdain. To her impart what toils remain ; to me Him that shall free thee ; this I most desire. PRO. This your request I shall not be averse To gratify, and tell you all you wish. First for thy various wand'rings : Mark my words, And grave them on the tablet of thy heart. When thou shalt pass the flood, the common bound Of either continent, direct thy steps Right to the fiery portals of the east, The sun's bright walk, along the roaring beach, Till thou shalt come to the Gorgonian plains Of Cisthine, where dwell the swan-like forms Of Phorcys' daughters, bent and white with age ; One common eye have these, one common tooth, And never does the sun with cheerful ray Visit them darkling, nor the moon's pale orb That silvers o'er the night. The Gorgons nigh, Their sisters these, spread their broad wings, and wreathe Their horrid hair with serpents, fiends abhorred, Whom never mortal could behold, and live. Be therefore warned, and let it profit thee To learn what else detestable to sis;ht PROMETHEUS CHAINED. 35 Lies in thy way, and dang'rous. Shun the Gryphins, Those dumb and rav'nous dogs of Jove. Avoid The Arimaspian troops, whose frowning foreheads Glare with one blazing eye ; along the banks, Where Pluto rolls his streams of gold, they rein Their foaming steeds ; approach them not, but seek A land far distant, where the tawny race Dwell near the fountains of the sun, and where The Nigris pours his dusky waters ; wind Along his banks, till thou shalt reach the fall Where from the mountains with Papyrus crowned The venerable Nile impetuous pours His headlong torrent ; he shall guide thy steps To those irriguous plains, whose triple sides His arms surround ; there have the Fates decreed Thee and thy sons to form the lengthened line. Is aught imperfect, aught obscure ? Resume Th' inquiry, and be taught with greater clearness : I have more leisure than I wish to have. CHOR. If thou hast aught remaining, aught omitted, To tell her of her woeful wand'rings, speak it : If all has been declared, to us vouchsafe The grace we ask ; what, thou rememb'rest well. PRO. Her wand'ring in full measure has she heard, That she may know she has not heard in vain, Her labours passed, ere these rude rocks she reached, Will I recite, good argument that truth Stamps my predictions sure : nor shall I use A length of words, but speak thy wand'rings briefly. Soon as thy foot reached the Molossian ground, And round Dodona's ridgy heights, where stands The seat oracular of Thesprotian Jove, And, wondrous prodigy, the vocal groves, These in clear, plain, unquestionable terms B 2 36 PROMETHEUS CHAINED. Hailed thee "Illustrious wife of Jove that shall be," If that may soothe thy soul. The tort'ring sting Thence drove thee wand'ring o'er the wave- washed strand To the great gulf of Rhea, thence thy course Through the vexed billows hither. But know this, In after times shall that deep gulf from thee Be call'd th' Ionian, and preserve to men The memory of thy passage. This to thee, Proving the prescience of my mind, that sees More than appears : the rest to you and her, Resuming my discourse, I speak in common. On the land's extreme verge a city stands, Canobus, proudly elevate, nigh where the Nile Rolls to the sea his rich stream : there shall Jove Heal thy distraction, and with gentle hand Soothe thee to peace. Of his high race a son, The dusky Epaphus, shall rise, and rule The wide-extended land o'er which the Nile Pours his broad waves. In the fifth line from him Fifty fair sisters shall return to Argos Unwillingly, to fly the kindred beds Of fifty brothers ; these with eager speed, Swift as the falcon's flight" when he pursues The dove at hand, shall follow, nor obtain The nuptials, which th' indignant gods deny. These shall Pelasgia see by female hands Welt'ring in gore, the night's convenient gloom Fav'ring the daring deed ; each female draws The trenchant sword, and in her husband's blood Stains the broad blade. Thus fatal to my foes Be love ! Yet one shall feel its softer flame Melting her soul, and from the general carnage Preserve her husband, choosing to be deemed Of base degenerate spirit, rather than stain PROMETHEUS CHAINED. 37 Her gentle hands with blood. From her shall Argos Receive a long imperial line of kings. The full distinct relation would be tedious. From her shall rise the hero, strong to wing The dreaded shaft ; he from these tort'ring pains Shall set me free : this my age-honoured mother, Titanian Themis, with oracular voice Foretold ; but when, or how, requires a length Of narrative, which known would nought avail thee. Io. Ah me ! ah wretched me ! That pang again ! Again that fiery pang, whose madd'ning smart Corrodes and rankles in my breast ! With fear My heart pants thick ; wildly my eyeballs roll ; Distraction drives my hurried steps a length Of weary wand'ring ; my ungoverned tongue Utters tumultuous ravings, that roll high The floods of passion swoln with horrid woes. PROMETHEUS, CHORUS. CHORUS. Strophe. Was it not wisdom's sovereign power That beamed her brightest, purest flame, T' illume her sage's soul the thought to frame, And clothe with words his heaven-taught lore ? " Whoe'er thou art, whom young desire Shall lead to Hymen's holy fire, Choose, from thy equals choose thy humble love : Let not the pomp of wealth allure thine eye, Nor high-traced lineage thy ambition move ; 111 suits with low degree t' aspire so high." 38 PROMETHEUS CHAINED. Antistrophe. Never, oh never may my fate See me a splendid victim led To grace the mighty Jove's imperial bed, Or share a god's magninc state. When ID'S miseries meet my eyes, What horrors in my soul arise ! Her virgin bosom, harb'ring high intent, In man delights not, and his love disdains ; Hence the dire pest by wrathful Juno sent, Her wide wild wand'rings hence, and agonizing pains. Epode. Me less ambitious thoughts engage, And love within my humbler sphere : Hence my soul rests in peace secure from fear, Secure from danger's threat'ning rage. Me may the powers that rule the sky Ne'er view with love's resistless eye : Ah ! never be th" unequal conflict mine, To strive with their inextricable love : Might not my heart against itself combine ? Or how escape the powerful arts of Jove ? PRO. Yet shall this Jove, with all his self-willed pride, Learn humbler thoughts, taught by that fatal marriage, Which from the lofty throne of sovereign rule Shall sink him to a low and abject state, And on his head fulfil his father's curse, The curse of Saturn, vented in that hour When from his ancient royalty he fell. Of all the gods not one, myself except, Can warn him of his fate, and how to shun Th' impending ruin. I know all, and how. PROMETHEUS CHAINED. 39 Let him then sit, and glorying in his height Roll with his red right hand his volleyed thunder Falsely secure, and wreathe his bick'ring flames. Yet nought shall they avail him, nor prevent His abject and dishonourable fall. Such rival adversary forms he now Against himself, prodigious in his might, And unassailable ; whose rage shall roll Flames that surpass his lightnings, fiercer bolts That quash his thunders : and from Neptune's hand Dash his trined mace, that from the bottom stirs The troubled sea, and shakes the solid earth. Crushed with this dreadful ruin shall he learn How different, to command, and to obey. CHOR. Thy ominous tongue gives utterance to thy wish. PRO. It is my wish, and shall be ratified. CHOR. What, shall high Jove bend to a greater lord ? PRO. And to a yoke more galling stoop his neck. CHOR. Dost thou not fear, vaunting this bold discourse ? PRO. What should I fear, by Fate exempt from death ? CHOR. But he may add fresh tortures to thy pain. PRO. Let him then add them, I await them all. CHOR. Wise they, who reverence the stern power of vengeance. PRO. Go then, with prompt servility fall down Before your lord, fawn, cringe, and sue for grace. For me, I value him at less than nothing. Let him exert his brief authority, And lord it whilst he may ; his power in Heaven Shall vanish soon, nor leave a trace behind. But see, his messenger hastes on amain, Th' obsequious lackey of this new-made monarch : He comes, I ween, the bearer of fresh tidings. 4 o PROMETHEUS CHAINED. MERCURY, PROMETHEUS, CHORUS. MERCURY. To thee grown old in craft, deep drenched in gall, Disgustful to the gods, too prodigal Of interdicted gifts to mortal man, Thief of the fire of Heaven, to thee my message. My father bids thee say what nuptials these Thy tongue thus vaunts as threat'ning his high power; And clearly say, couched in no riddling phrase, Each several circumstance ; propound not to me Ambiguous terms, Prometheus ; for thou seest Jove brooks not such, unfit to win his favour. PRO. Thou doest thy message proudly, in high terms, Becoming well the servant of such lords. Your youthful power is new ; yet vainly deem ye Your high-raised towers impregnable to pain : Have I not seen two sovereigns of the sky Sink from their glorious state ? And I shall see A third, this present lord, with sudden ruin Dishonourably fall. What, seem I now To dread, to tremble at these new-raised gods ? That never shall their force extort from me. Hence then, the way thou cam'st return with speed : Thy vain inquiries get no other answer. MER. Such insolence before, so fiery fierce, Drew on thy head this dreadful punishment. PRO. My miseries, be assured, I would not change For thy gay servitude, but rather choose To live a vassal to this dreary rock, Than lackey the proud heels of Jove. These words, If insolent, your insolence extorts. MER. I think thou art delighted with thy woes. PRO. Delighted ! Might I see mine enemies Delighted thus ! And thee I hold among them* PROMETHEUS CHAINED. 41 MER. And why blame me for thy calamities? PRO. To tell thee in a word, I hate them all, These gods of them I deserved well, and they Ungrateful and unjust work me these ills. MER. Thy malady, I find, is no small madness. PRO If to detest my enemies be madness, It is a malady I wish to have. MER. Were it well with thee, who could brook thy pride ? PRO. Ah me ! MER. That sound of grief Jove doth not know. PRO. Time, as its age advanceth, teaches all things. MER. All its advances have not taught thee wisdom. PRO. I should not else waste words on thee, a vassal. MER. Nought wilt thou answer then to what Jove asks. PRO. If due, I would repay his courtesy. MER. Why am I checked, why rated as a boy? PRO. A boy thou art, more simple than a boy, If thou hast hopes to be informed by me. Not all his tortures, all his arts shall move me T' unlock my lips, till this cursed chain be loosed. No, let him hurl his flaming lightnings, wing His whitening snows, and with his thunders shake The rocking earth, they move not me to say What force shall wrest the sceptre from his hand. MER. Weigh these things well, will these unloose thy chains ? PRO. Well have they long been weighed, and well con- sidered. MER. Subdue, vain fool, subdue thy insolence, And let thy miseries teach thee juster thoughts. PRO. Thy counsels, like the waves that dash against The rock's firm base, disquiet but not move me, 42 .PROMETHEUS CHAINED. Conceive not of me that, through fear what Jove May in his rage inflict, my fixed disdain Shall e'er relent, e'er suffer my firm mind To sink to womanish softness, to fall prostrate, To stretch my supplicating hands, entreating My hated foe to free me from these chains. Far be that shame, that abject weakness from me. MER. I see thou art implacable, unsoftened By all the mild entreaties I can urge ; But like a young steed reined, that proudly struggles, And champs his iron curb, thy haughty soul Abates not of its unavailing fierceness. But pride, disdaining to be ruled by reason, Sinks weak and valueless. But mark me well, If not obedient to my words, a storm, A fiery and inevitable deluge Shall burst in threefold vengeance on thy head. First, his fierce thunder winged with lightning flaroes Shall rend this rugged rock, and cover thee With hideous ruin : long time shalt thou lie Astonied in its rifted sides, till dragged Again to light; then shall the bird of Jove, The rav'ning eagle, lured with scent of blood, Mangle thy body, and each day returning, An uninvited guest, plunge his fell beak, And feast and riot on thy black'ning liver. Expect no pause, no respite, till some god Comes to relieve thy pains, willing to pass The dreary realms of ever-during night, The dark descent of Tartarus profound. Weigh these things well ; this is no fiction drest In vaunting terms, but words of serious truth. The mouth of Jove knows not to utter falsehood, But what he speaks is fate. Be cautious then, PROMETHEUS CHAINED. 43 Regard thyself; let not o'enveening pride Despise the friendly voice of prudent counsel CHOR. Nothing amiss we deem his words, but fraught With reason, who but wills thee to relax Thy haughty spirit, and by prudent counsels Pursue thy peace : be then advised ; what shame For one so wise to persevere in error ! PRO. All this I knew ere he declared his message. That enemy from enemy should suffer Extreme indignity is nothing strange. Let him then work his horrible pleasure on me ; Wreathe his black curling flames, tempest the air With volleyed thunders and wild warring winds, Rend from its roots the firm earth's solid base, Heave from the roaring main its boisterous waves, And dash them to the stars ; me let him hurl, Caught in the fiery tempest, to the gloom Of deepest Tartarus ; not all his power Can quench th' ethereal breath of life in me. MER. Such ravings, such wild counsels might you hear, From moon-struck madness. What is this but madness ? Were he at ease, would he abate his frenzy ? But you, whose gentle hearts with social sorrow Melt at his suff'rings, from this place remove, Remove with speed, lest the tempestuous roar Of his fierce thunder strike your souls with horror. CHOR. To other themes, to other counsels turn Thy voice, where pleaded reason may prevail : This is ill urged, and may not be admitted. Wouldst thou solicit me to deeds of baseness ? Whate'er betides, with him will I endure it. The vile betrayer I have learned to hate ; There is no fouler stain, my soul abhors it. MER. Remember you are warned ; if ill o'ertake you 44 PROMETHEUS CHAINED. Accuse not Fortune, lay not the blame on Jove. As by his hand sunk in calamities Unthought of, unforeseen : no, let the blame Light on yourselves ; your folly not unwarned, Not unawares, but 'gainst your better knowledge, Involved you in th' inextricable toils. PRO. He fables not ; I feel in very deed The firm earth rock ; the thunder's deep'ning roar Rolls with redoubled rage ; the bick'ring flames Flash thick ; the eddying sands are whirled on high -, In dreadful opposition the wild winds Rend the vexed air ; the boist'rous billows rise Confounding sea and sky ; th' impetuous storm Rolls all its terrible fury on my head. Seest thou this, awful Themis ; and thou, ^ther ; Through whose pure azure floats the general stream Of liquid light, see you what wrongs I suffer ! THE SUPPLICANTS. THE fire and iury that rages through the former play is agreeably contrasted, where perhaps the reader least ex- pected it, with the sober spirit of the daughters of Danaus. '1 hese illustrious Supplicants are drawn indeed with a firm- ness of soul becoming their high rank, but tempered with a modest and amiable sensibility, and an interesting plaintive- ness, that might have oeen a model even to the gentle and passionate Cvid, and that heart must have little of the fine feelings of humanity that does not sympathize with their distress. The provident wisdom of their father Danaus, the calm but firm dignity of Pelasgus, the inviolable attach- ment to the laws of hospitality, the solemn sense of religion and the chasteness of sentiment through the whole, must please every mind that is capable of being touched with the gracious simplicity of ancient manners. The scene is near the shore, in an open grove close to the altar and images of the gods presiding over the sacred games, with a view of the sea and the ships of ^Egyptus on one side, and of the towers of Argos on the other ; with hills, and woods, and vales, a river flowing between them ; altogether with the persons of the drama forming a picture 46 THE SUPPLICANTS. v that would have well employed the united pencils of Poussin and Claude Lorraine. PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. CHORUS, THE DAUGHTERS OF DANAUS. DANAUS. PELASGUS. HERALD. CHORUS. Protector of the suppliant, gracious Jove, Look with an eye of pity on this strain, Which from the gentle depths of Nile have sped Their naval enterprise. Those sacred fields, That border on the Syrian wastes, we leave, Not by the public voice of justice doomed For blood, but willing fugitives from youths Too near allied, whose impious love would raise Perforce the nuptial bed by us abhorred ; Sons of ^Egyptus they. Our father Danaus, On whose authority we build our counsels, And strengthen our abhorrence, planned these measures, And wrought us to this honourable toil, To wing our swift flight o'er the billowy main, And reach the shores of Argos, whence we draw Our vaunted lineage, from the embrace of Jove Enamoured of that virgin, whom transformed The tort'ring sting drove wand'ring o'er the world. To what more friendly region can we take Our progress, bearing in our suppliant hands These peaceful branches crowned with sacred wreaths ? Ye royal towers, thou earth, and ye fair streams Of orient crystal, ye immortal gods In the high heavens enthroned, ye awful powers That deep beneath hold your tremendous seats, Jove the preserver, guardian of the roof THE SUPPLICANTS. 47 Where dwells the pious man, receive your suppliants, Breathe o'er these realms your favourable spirit, And form them to receive this female train ! But for those men, that proud injurious band Sprung from ^gyptus, ere they fix their foot On this moist shore, drive them into the deep, With all their flying streamers and quick oars, There let them meet the whirlwind's boist'rous rage, Thund'rings, and lightnings, and the furious blasts That harrow up the wild tempestuous waves, And perishin the storm, ere they ascend Our kindred bed, and seize against our will What nature and the laws of blood deny. To thee, th' avenging power Adored beyond the waves of this wide main, Raise we the solemn strain, Her progeny, that cropped each various flower Which decked the fragrant mead, Till Jove's soft touch her altered shape caressed, And soothed her soul to rest : Thereto we add thy fate-appointed name, Epaphus of mighty fame, To thee we raise the strain, while now we tread Thy reverenced mother's fertile soil, And record each various toil ; Now shall each trace to light be brought, Though far surpassing human thought ; Now shall the wondrous tale unfold, Mysterious deeds of times of old. Dwells in this land some augur near? If these sad wailings reach his ear, Will he not deem the mournful note Warbled from Philomela's throat, 48 THE SUPPLICANTS. Such time as from the falcon's wing She leaves her fav'rite haunt and spring, And o'er her nest, and o'er her young Attunes her sweetest, saddest song, And in the melancholy strain . Laments the fate of Itys slain ; In sullen rage the mother stands, And in her son's blood bathes her hands. In notes so sweet, so sad, I try To raise th' Ionian harmony ; And rend these cheeks, that ripening drew On Nile's warm banks their vermeil hue ; Whilst at each solemn, pensive pause My bursting heart the deep sigh draws, And, woe-betrothed, fears e'en its friends. If yet perchance one friend attends, For that our sails the deep explore, Leaving our native dusky shore. Ye gods, from whom we proudly trace The glories of our high-born race, Hear us, ye powers, propitious hear, And show that justice is your care ; Guard in our just, our holy cause The sanctity of Nature's laws ; You, tha't abhor each impious deed, Arise, protect the nuptial bed. When Mars to slaughter gives the reins, And rages o'er th' ensanguined plains, To each that flies the altar gives A refuge, and the suppliant lives, For Jove, with pious prayers adored, Commands stern war to drop the sword. Jove's firm decree, though wrapt in night, Beams 'midst the gloom a constant light ; THE SUPPLICANTS. 49 Man's fate obscure in darkness lies, Not to be pierced by mortal eyes ; The just resolves of his high mind A glorious consummation find ; Though in majestic state enthroned Thick clouds and dark enclose him round As from the tower of heaven his eye Surveys bold man's impiety ; Till, his ripe wrath on vengeance bent, He arms each god for punishment, And from his high and holy throne Sends all his awful judgments down. And may his eye our wrongs survey, Marked by insulting man his prey ; As each bold youth by passion fired Against our bosom-peace conspired, And to deceit's smooth influence Joined rude and boist'rous violence : An infant forest these, that shoot Their wild growth from one parent root, And o'er our fresh bloom strive to spread Their cheerless and malignant shade. Thus I attune my notes of woe, And bid the varied measures flow ; Now the shrilling descant chase, Now solemn sink the deep'ning bass ; Thus bid the warbled cadence 'plain, And steep in tears the mournful strain ; A strain to grace my obsequies, Whilst yet I view yon golden skies. Ye rising hills that crown this shore, Where Apis reigned in years of yore, Propitious hear me, nor disdain To let your echoes learn this strain ; 50 THE SUPPLICANTS. Barbaric though my voice and rude, Well may its notes be understood ; Barbaric though this purfled stole, Frounced around with linen roll, This blushing veil though Sidon gave, Ye hills of Apis hear, and save ! The vow performed the gods atoned, The pious rites with blessings crowned, Death distant waits with slackened pace, Nor dares profane the sacred place. But will he now his foot repress ? Will the kind gods their votary bless ? Ah me ! these swelling waves of woe, Whither, ah ! whither will they flow ? Ye rising hills that crown this shore, Where Apis reigned in years of yore, Propitious hear me, nor disdain To let your echoes learn this strain ; Barbaric though my voice and rude, Well may its notes be understood ; Barbaric though this purfled stole, Frounced around with linen roll : This blushing veil though Sidon gave, Ye hills of Apis hear, and save ! The dashing oar, the swelling sail, That caught the favourable gale, Safe from the storms, nor I complain, Wafted our frail bark o'er the main. All-seeing sovereign Sire, defend, And guide us to a prosp'rous end ; Save us, O save the seed divine Of our great mother's sacred line ; From man's rude touch O save us free, And help insnared chastity ! THE SUPPLICANTS. 51 Thou, virgin daughter of high Jove, A virgin's vows hear, and approve ; Holding thy sober, awful state, Protect us from the touch we hate ; From bold incontinence secure, Pure thyself, preserve us pure ; Save us, O save the seed divine Of our great mother's sacred line ; From man's rude touch O save us free, And help insnared chastity ! If not, this glowing train, that trace From Heaven's high King their high-born race, Shall voluntary victims go To th' all-receiving realms below; To their dread gods for refuge fly, If Heaven's high powers their aid deny, O sovereign Jove, shall wrath divine For 16 still pursue her line ? Still thy dread queen in fury rise, And in her cause arm all the skies ? She wings these winds, this tempest spreads, That bursts in vengeance o'er our heads. O sovereign Jove, for this thy ear No meed of grateful voice shall hear ; Thy son dishonoured, whom of yore To thee disfigured 16 bore. Turn then, O turn thy gracious eye, And hear us from thy throne on high ! 5* THE SUPPLICANTS. DANAUS, CHORUS. DANAUS. Daughters, this hour demands your utmost prudence ; Your father's care, your old and faithful pilot, Hath held your helm safe o'er the dangerous deep ; Behoves you now at land with provident heed To form your counsels, and attentive mark My words. Yon cloud of dust, though tongueless, speaks An army nigh ; I hear their wheels of brass Loud rattling on their axles ; now I view Chariots and horse distinct, and shields, and spears Far gleaming o'er the plain ; the lords perchance That rule these realms, informed of our arrival, Advance to us ; but bring they minds of peace, Guiltless of violence, or with ruthless rage Rush on this train, best sit together, virgins, Around this altar, sacred to the gods . Presiding o'er the games : a surer refuge Than tower or shield war-proof an altar gives. Go then with speed, and reverent in your hands Hold forth these supplicating branches crowned With snowy wreaths, ensigns of awful Jove. With modest, grave, and decent speech receive These strangers, as beseems the wretched state Of unknown supplicants ; declare at once Distinct and brief the motives of your flight Unstained with blood : let not your roving eye Dart the bold glance, impeaching modesty. Be not thy voice heard first, nor let its answers Weary their ear ; they quickly take offence ; Submissive urge thy plea, rememb'ring well The pride of words ill suits thy low estate, A fugitive, a stranger, in distress. as" THE SUPPLICANTS. 53 CHOR. Wise are thy counsels, and with reverend heed Shall be remembered, father ; and may Jove, The author of our race, look gracious on us. DAN. Quick be his aid, strong guardian of our cause. CHOR. ^"hus near I choose my seat. DAN. Supreme of gods, Pity our suff'rings, pity ere we perish. CHGR. Look with an eye of mercy on thy suppliants, Impart thy grace, and bless us with success. DAN. Address you now this crested bird of Jove. CHOR. Thee, radiant Sun, thy tutelary rays Streaming with gold, sacred Apollo, god Once exiled from the skies, to thee I call, Look on our woes, and pity wretched mortals. DAN. O succour us, assist us, gracious power. CHOR. Whom of these gods, whom yet shall we invoke ? DAN. Mark you this trident ? It declares the god. CHOR. Safe hast thou brought us o'er the swelling sea, Receive us then, and save us on the shore. DAN. This, in the Grecian rites, is Mercury. CHOR. Nothing but good announce thou to the free. DAN. This common altar, sacred to these gods, Approach with awe ; the ground is holy ; sit Like turtles trembling at the falcon's flight, The winged foe of all the winged race, Polluter of his kind ; for how can bird, That preys on bird, be pure? Or how can man, That from th' unwilling father drags to marriage Th' unwilling daughter, how can he be chaste ? Or shall the haughty deed e'en after death Escape unpunished in the realms below? No : for another Jove, they say, holds there His awful seat, and to the guilty dead Awards just vengeance. But be wary, try 54 THE SUPPLICANTS. The sanctity of the place ; and may it bring The blessing of success to crown your hopes. PELASGUS, DANAUS, CHORUS. PELASGUS. What female train address we*here, and Gorgeously vested in barbaric stoles [whence, That float in many a fold ? Our Argos sees not Her daughters thus arrayed,- nor Greece through all Its States. That thus without some previous herald, The public hospitality not asked, Without safe conduct, you have boldly ventured To land upon our coasts, this is most strange. Only these boughs, as supplicants are wont, You lay before these gods that o'er the games Preside : hence Greece forms one conjecture only, Of all besides uncertain what to think, Till your distinct relation clears our doubts. CHOR. As to our habits, thy remarks are just. But how should I address thee ? as a man Of private station, or with hallowed charge Presiding here, or chieftain of the State ? PEL. Nay, answer me, and speak with confidence. Pelasgus bids you, sovereign of this land : My sire Palsecthon, of high ancestry Original with this earth : from me, their king, The people take their name, and boast themselves Pelasgians. O'er a wide extent of land, Through which the Algus flows, and Strymon west, From the Perrhsebians o'er the sacred heights Of Pindus, to Pceonia, and beyond The mountains of Dodona, spacious realms, My empire stretches, bounded by the sea This way. In ancient times the Apian plains From Apis drew their honoured name, the son THE SUPPLICANTS. 55 Of Phoebus, in his father's healing arts Skilled : from Naupactus came the heaven-taught sage And cleared the land of that pestiferous brood, Which the moist earth, foul with corrupted gore, Of old engendered, fierce with dragon-rage, A cruel neighbourhood ; their horrible pride The matchless Apis quelled, and freed the land Of Argos. Hence in sacred reverence We hold his memory. Instructed thus Say on, declare your race, and aught besides : But know we brook not the long pomp of words. CHOR. Brief will I be, and plain. Of Argive race We boast ourselves, and draw our vaunted lineage From her, the lowing mother, in her son Supremely blest. All this my words shall prove. PEL. Unplausible your tale. Can it be, strangers, That you're of Argive race ? Liker, I ween, The Libyan damsels, in no wise resembling Our daughters : such perchance the Nile might rear, Such in the glowing tint the artist's hand Might mark the Colchian dame ; and such, I hear, The wand'ring Indians, mounted on their camels, Along the tented plains out-stretching wide To ^Ethiopia's cities ; such the troops Of warlike Amazons j and were your hands Armed with the polished bow, I might conjecture You were of these ; therefore I thirst to know More fully, how you are of Argive race. CHOR. Fame speaks of 16, in this Argive land The sacred guardian of the fane of Juno. Her, as the common voice loudly reports PEL. Reports it that the Thunderer, of her charms Enamoured, with a mortal mixed the god ? CHOR. And met in secret shades, concealed from Juno. 56 THE SUPPLICANTS. PEL. How ended then the bickerings of these powers ? CHOR. TheArgive queen transformed her to a heifer. PEL. Does Jove approach her in this fair horned shape? CHOR. Himself, they say, transforming to a bull. PEL. What angry measures formed his royal consort? CHOR. A herdsman she assigned starred round with eyes. FEL. What herdsman this, and how starred round with eyes ? CHOR. The earth-born Argus : but him Hermes slew. PEL. What new device to vex the wretched heifer ? CHOR. A winged pest, armed with a horrid sting : Those on the banks of Nile call it the bryze. PEL. And drove her in long wand'rings from this land. CHOR. Thy words, according well, speak this for me. PEL. Reached she Canobus, and the walls of Memphis ? CHOR. There Jove with gentle hand soothed her to rest ; There planted his illustrious progeny. PEL. Who from this heifer boasts his race divine ? CHOR. Hence Epaphus received his name ; from him Libya, whose fair domains extended wide. PEL. What other branch sprung from this mighty root? CHOR. Belus, the father of two sons ; my sire, Behold, is one. PEL. Declare the sage's name. CHOR. Danaus : his brother whom by name they call yEgyptus, is the sire of fifty sons. Thus have I shown thee our high ancestry ; Protect us then, support an Argive train. PEL. You seem indeed to draw your origin Of old from hence : but say, how have you dared To leave your father's house ? What chance constrained you? CHOR. King of Pelasgia, various are the ills Qf mortal man ; and never mayst thou see THE SUPPLICANTS. 57 Misfortune mounting on the self-same wing. Who would have thought we should have winged our flight Thus unexpected to the coast of Argos Allied of old, amazement in our van, And strong abhorrence of the nuptial bed ! PEL. Why, sayest thou, fly you to these gods for refuge, Holding these fresh-cropt branches crowned with wreaths ? CHOR. That to the offspring of ^Egyptus we Might not be slaves. PEL. Whence this reluctance, say, From hate ? Or do your laws forbid such nuptials ? CHOR. And who would wish to make their friends their lords ? PEL. Yet thus the strength of families gains force. CHOR. And to the wretched, death is not unwelcome. PEL. In what would you engage my honour to you ? CHOR. Not to enthral us to /Egyptus' sons, Should they demand us. PEL. Arduous is the task Thou wouldst enjoin me, to provoke new wars. CHOR. O'er him that succours, Justice holds her shield. PEL. If from the first the cause were my concern. CHOR. Revere these gods, the guardians of your State, Encircled with this supplicating train. PEL. Struck with religious horror I behold These branches shade this consecrated seat. CHOR. Dread then the wrath of Jove, who guards the suppliant. Son of Palaecthon, hear me ; with a heart Prompt to relieve, King of Pelasgia, hear. Behold me supplicant, an exile, wand'ring, Like the poor lamb, that on the craggy steep Raises her mournful voice, secure of help, And warns her faithful keeper cf her danger. 58 THE SUPPLICANTS. PEL. I see a stranger train, with boughs new-plucked Shading these gods that o'er the games preside. May their arrival, though now strangers here, Yet hence descended, bring no dread event ; Nor from this sudden, unexpected hap Let war, which least we wish, disturb our State. CHOR. May Themis, guardian of the suppliant, sprung From powerful Jove, look on our harmless flight. Nor from a younger let thy age disdain To learn the reverence due to supplicants, From whose pure hands the fav'ring gods accept The grateful offering. PEL. Make not your request To me in private ; if pollution stains The public State, the public has the charge To expiate that stain ; nor can my voice, Ere consultation with the people held, Warrant the sanction of the public faith. CHOR. Thou art the State ; the public thou ; thy voice, Superior to control, confirms the sanction This altar gives ; thy sole authority, High-sceptred monarch of a sovereign throne, Is here obeyed : religion's voice pleads for us ; Revere it, nor profane these hallowed seats. PEL. That profanation to mine enemies. To grant you my protection cannot be But with much danger ; to reject your prayers Humanity forbids : perplexed I fear To act, or not to act, and fix my choice. CHOR. On Heaven's high throne he sits, whose watchful eye Regards th' afflicted, when unfeeling pride Denies that justice which the law asks for them. THE SUPPLICANTS. 59 Reverence his power ; for when the sufferer groans With pangs unpitied, the fixed wrath of Jove, Protector of the suppliant, burns severe. PEL. If by your country's laws /Egyptus' sons, As next of blood, assert a right in you, Who should oppose them ? It behoves thee then By your own laws to prove such claim unjust. CHOR. Ah ! never may I be perforce a thrall To man ! By heaven-directed flight I break The wayward plan of these detested nuptials. Arm justice on thy side, and with her aid Judge with that sanctity the gods demand. PEL. No easy province : make not me your judge. Great though my power, it is not mine to act, I told thee so, without my people's voice Assenting ; lest, if ill arise, they say By honouring strangers thou hast undone thy country. CHOR. Each equally allied, impartial Jove Weighs each in equal balance ; but repays The impious deed with vengeance, to the just Rewards their sanctity. Why griev'st thou then To emulate the god, and act with justice ? PEL. Matter of high import hast thou proposed, Which not admits heady and fitful rashness, But deep deliberation, provident care, Wisely attentive to the general weal, That hence no evil rise, but the event, Be prosp'rous found, first to the State and me ; Next, that no force arrest you here, nor we Betray you refuged in these hallowed seats, The hostages of Heaven, and on our heads Call ruin and the vengeance of the gods That e'en in death acquits not. Seems not this Matter of deep debate, and public care? 60 THE SUPPLICANTS. CHOR. Deliberate then with prudent care : To thy counsels take with thee Heaven-commercing piety, And be steadfast justice near. Hark ! methinks I hear them say, Do not, mighty king, betray Wretched exiles wand'ring far. See me not with ruffian hand, Refuged at this shrine, profaned, Learn what boist'rous man may dare. See me not with ruffled vest Rent unseemly from my breast, Loose my tresses waving round, Bridled with this golden brede, Led, like a reluctant steed, Jb'rom the gods that guard this ground. See each hallowed image here, And the awful powers revere : At thy feet thy suppliant laid, Mighty monarch, hear and aid ! And know, to thee, thy house, thy rising race Impartial justice shall repay the deed ; Willi glory's radiant crown thy virtues grace, And righteous Jove shall sanctify the meed. PEL. Well; I have paused, and pondered; but each thought Tells me the fluctuating tide perforce Will drive me on a war with these, or those : And, like a ship with all its anchors out, I must abide the storm : nor will this end Without calamity, and loss, and woe. When the rich house in desolation sinks, Its wealth all wasted, bounteous Jove may raise Its splendour to outshine its former state : THE SUPPLICANTS. 61 Or when the haughty tongue unseemly bolts The bitter taunt that stings the anguished heart, The balm of honied words may heal the wound. But kindred blood to reek upon the dust No : let the altars blaze, and each due rite Propitiate ev'ry god t' avert the ill. Meanwhile I keep aloof, wishing t' appear Ignorant of these disputes : and may th' event Be fortunate beyond my expectation. CHOR. Hear the last words of desperate modesty. PEL. Have I not heard ? Speak on, I will attend. CHOR. Seest thou these braided zones that bind our robes? PEL. Ornaments these that suit your female state. CHOR. Know then the honest purpose these shall serve. PEL. What would thy words intend ? Explain thyself. CHOR. If honour shall not guard this female train PEL. How can these binding zones secure your safety ? CHOR. Hanging new trophies on these images. PEL. Mysterious are thy words ; speak plainly to me. CHOR. To tell thee plainly then, I mean ourselves. PEL. I hear the language of an anguished heart CHOR. Be sure of that : I speak our firm resolves. PEL. On ev'ry side inevitable ills Surround me, like a flood, whose dang'rous surge Drives me into a vast and gulfy sea, Where no kind harbour shelters from the storm. Should I not yield you refuge, thou hast named A deed of horror not to be surpassed : If with ^Egyptus' sons, whose veins are rich With kindred blood, before our walls I try The chance of war, what else but bitter loss Can be th' event, when in a woman's cause Men shed their warm blood on th' embattled plain ? Yet strong constraint compels me to revere 62 THE SUPPLICANTS. The wrath of Jove, whose hospitable power Protects the suppliant, awfully severe. And thou, age-honoured father of these virgins, Take in thy hands these boughs, place them with speed On other altars of our country gods ; That all the citizens may see the signs Of your arrival ; but of me be sure Speak not a word : for this free people love To tax authority with blame. Some eye Perchance may melt with pity, and abhor The boist'rous force of these injurious men; Hence shall you find more favour from the people ; For nature prompts to succour the distressed. DAN. This reverend, this benevolent regard To strangers we receive with grateful honour. But from thy train send with me some t' attend, To guide me to the altars of your gods, The guardians of your State, and to their shrines, With safety through your streets ; for much unlike Our form, our garb to yours ; nor does our Nile See on its banks a race like those that tread The verdant borders of your Inachus : Hence insolence may dare the rude affront ; The stranger friend by the friend's hand has bled. PEL. Attend him ; he says well ; conduct his steps Safe to the sacred shrines, seats of the gods, Within our walls ; and, as you pass, avoid Much talk with those you meet, guiding this stranger, Who claims protection from our hallowed altars. PELASGUS, CHORUS. CHORUS. For him thou hast ordered well ; safe may he go Appointed thus : but what becomes of me ? What shall I do ? How wilt thou calm my fears ? THE SUPPLICANTS. 63 PEL. Leave here those boughs, the ensigns of your toils. CHOR. I leave them as thy voice and hand directs. PEL. Seest thou that unfenced grove? Take shelter there. CHOR. How should th' unconsecrated grove protect rcc ? PEL. Let them have wings, we leave you not their prey. CHOR. Than winged dragons they're more dreadful to us. PEL. With better omens be thy words auspicious. CHOR. No marvel if my mind sinks with its fears. PEL. But a king's fear is ominous of ill. CHOR. Be all thy words, be all thy actions happy ! PEL. Your father will not long be absent from you ; Meanwhile will I persuade th' assembled people, If haply I may move them, to receive you With generous pity : him will I instruct How best t' address his speech. Await th' event, And supplicate the gods, whose guardian power Is worshipped here, to grant your hearts' warm wish. This done, I will return ; and may persuasion Attend me, and good fortune speed my steps. CHORUS. Strophe i. Might of the mighty, king of kings, Supremely blest amidst the blest above, Enthroned in glory righteous Jove, From whom perfection to the perfect springs, Hear us, O hear our fond request, To pity melt each generous breast ; View this bold outrage with indignant eye, And shield us from the injury : O'ertake their proud barque on the purple main, Sink it with all its sable train ; Our female band with pity view, [drew. And think from whose rich blood our honoured race we 64 THE SUPPLICANTS. Anti strophe i. If Argive 16's blooming grace Could e'er thy fond enamoured bosom move To warm desire, and rapturous love, The pleasing memory of her charms retrace. From her our race divine we boast, Not foreign to this Argive coast. Her foot, in times of old, where now we tread, Trod the flower-enamelled mead ; And made with lowings loud the forests ring, As from the bryze's tort'ring sting O'er many a realm she wandered wide, And dared the bounding waves, that world from world divide. Strophe 2. Found her foot rest on Asia's shore, On pastoral Phrygia's, or on Lydia's plains. Or Mysian Teuthra's wide domains ? Wildly Cicilia's rugged mountains o'er, Pamphylia's various tribes among, Each ceaseless-flowing stream along, Through corn-clad fields, and valleys ever green, The hallowed haunts of beauty's queen, That winged pest impelled her foot to rove, To the divine, all fost'ring grove, Through whose rich meads, impregned with snow Tempered with torrid beams Nile's healthful waters flow. Antistrophe 2. The race that then possessed the land, Struck with astonishment and pale affright, Beheld the strange, prodigious sight : Disdaining to be touched she trod the strand, THE SUPPLICANTS. 65 The likeness of the lowing race Now soft'ning sweet to virgin grace They saw, and trembled. All her toils at last, Her wand'rings wild, her tortures past, What gentle hand eternal Lord 'twas thine ; Thy gentle hand, thy power divine Soothed, softly soothed her frantic fear, And from her glowing cheek wiped sorrow's modest tear. Epode. Now thy pleasing force employ, All be love, and all be joy. Rising from the sweet embrace, Worthy of his radiant race, Smiles the auspicious boy. Time prepares to stamp his name Glorious in the roll of fame ; Earth, through ev'ry raptured scene, Hails th' ethereal son of Jove. Who could charm Heaven's angry queen ? W T ho her hostile hate remove ? This the deed of Jove alone, And this his genuine son. To whom, for justice when I raise the strain, To whom, save Jove, should I complain ? Great, awful author of our ancient line, Creative parent, independent lord, Disposer of the world, righteous, benign, Sovereign, above the highest high adored ; Whene'er he deigns to grace some favoured head, Easy alike to him the will, the werd, the deed. 66 THE SUPPLICANTS. DANAUS, CHORUS. DANAUS. Be of good courage, daughters ; a decree, Such as you wish, this generous State has passed. CHOR. Dear to my soul, with grateful tidings fraught, Hail, reverend parent ! But inform us how Passed the decree; what numbers favoured us? DAN. Not one discordant voice jarred in their counsels. The fire of youth glowed in these aged veins, When the whole people their uplifted hands Waved in the air, to witness their assent That we might be permitted here to dwell Free, unreclaimable, inviolate : That none presume, native or stranger, hence To lead us ; and should force be used, whoee'r Assists not, him the public sentence drives, With infamy, an exile from his country. This the Pelasgian king advised, to us Benevolent, declaring the fierce wrath Of Jove, protector of the supplicant, Could not permit this firm and prosp'rous State To flourish ; but such double insult, offered To ev'ry law of hospitality Sacred and civil, would with twofold vengeance Draw ruin on it, When the Argives heard These arguments of winning eloquence, Impatient of the usual forms, they gave With hands uplifted their concordant suffrage Friendly to us : thus Jove decreed th' event. CHOR. Come then, my sisters, for these pious Argives Breathe we some pious prayer, whose solemn strain May reach the ear of Jove. And them, supreme, God of the stranger, hear a stranger's voice Sincere, unblamed ; and ratify our vows 1 THE SUPPLICANTS. 67 Siophe. Ye progeny of Jove, whose awful power In yon ethereal plain Fixes the glories of your reign, Bend from your radiant seats your ear, Attentive to a virgin's prayer, And on this generous race your choicest blessings shower. Never may war, whose wanton rage The thundering falchion joys to wield, Joys, when embattled hosts engage, To mow with ruthless arm the field ; Never with rude discordant roar Affright the echoes of this shore ; Never with hostile hand Wave round these glittering towers the blazing brand. Soft-eyed humanity dwells here, That melting to the suppliant's tear Asserts our hopeless cause ; And spotless piety, whose breast Submiss reveres Jove's high behest, And hospitable laws. Your sacred spirit inspires the free To form the generous, bold decree, And man's rude force disdain ; To cast on Heaven's dread Lord their eye, The terrors of his vengeance fly, Nor scorn our female train : He o'er the impious roof his thunders rolls, And awful in his wrath appals the guilty souls. Antistrophe. Our kindred train, suppliants of holy Jove, Pelasgia's sons revere, And make our wrongs their generous care. C 2 68 THE SUPPLICANTS. For this at every hallowed shrine Propitious be each power divine ; For this beneath this solemn-shaded grove" Our raptured invocations rise, And Heaven shall hear the pious strains. Ah ! never may malignant skies Blast the fresh glories of your plains : Nor pestilence with poisonous breath, Waste your thin towns with livid death : Nor war's stern power deface The blooming flowers that youth's fair season grace. Still may your chiefs, a reverend band, Around the hallowed altars stand ; And ardent for the State Pour the warm vow to Heaven's high Lord, The great, the just ; whose will adored With hoar law tempers fate. Siill rise new chiefs, a lengthened line (Kind on their birth, Diana, shine !) The brave, the wise, the good : But never discord's dread alarms Your madd'ning cities rouse to arms And stain your streets with blood : Nor pale disease her sickly dews display, Touched by thy golden beams, ambrosial fount of day, % Epoik. Fav'ring seasons grace the year, Crown with rich fruits your cultured plains ; The joyful flock, the sportive steer, Bound wanton o'er your wide domains. Each immortal showering treasures, . Wake the soft melodious measures ; THE SUPPLICANTS. 69 Let the chastely-warbled lay The Muses' rapture-breathing shell obey. Firm may the honours of your laws remain, And prudence in your counsels' reign : Just to yourselves, and to the stranger kind, May peace to sleep consign the bloodless sword ; Each honour to your country's gods assigned ; Each laurelled shrine with hallowed rites adored ; The parent's hoary head with reverence crowned ; View this, ye righteous gods, and stretch protection round ! DANAUS, CHORUS. DANAUS. I like this well : wise are these votive strains. But though your father brings unwelcome tidings, New, and unlocked for, fear not you th' event. From yon high mound, where first you suppliant stood, I saw a ship, I marked its waving streamer, Its swelling sails, and all its gallant trim : Its prow with heedful eye observes its way, Obedient to the helm that guides behind ; Unfriendly sight ! the sailors too I marked, Conspicuous in white robes their sable limbs. Th' attendant vessels, proudly riding, sweep The watery way ; she foremost near the land Now furls her sails, and all the shouting crew Bend to the eager oar. Behoves you now Sedate and sage attention, nor neglect These gods. I haste to bring their generous aid, The patrons, the protectors of your cause. Haply some herald may be sent, with charge To claim you as their prize : it shall not be : Fear not th' event : but should our aid come slow, Forget not the protection of this place. Be comforted : the day, the hour shall come, 70 THE SUPPLICANTS. When he, that dares affront the gods, shall feel Their chastening vengeance bursting on his head. CHOR. How my frame trembles i Ah ! my father, see With winged speed the ships arrive ; between No interval of time ; my stiffening limbs Are chained with fear, and ev'ry hope of safety, If safety lies in flying far, is lost. DAN. Since this decree is passed, fear not, my child ; Argos, I know, .will arm in your defence. CHOR. Fatally fierce they are, and on their pride Destruction waits, and never-sated war, These sons of old ^Egyptus, not to thee Unknown. E'en now their firm-compacted ships Black o'er the angry deep insulting ride, Eager to land their sable-tinctured hosts. DAN. And they shall find a host, whose toil-strung arms Relax not in the sun's meridian heat. CHOR. Forsake me not, ah ! leave me not alone, 1 pray thee, father ; a forsaken woman Is very weak : their wily, faithless minds, Like obscene crows, spare not the hallowed altar. DAN. Now fair befall our cause, if their mad rage, Insulting thee, my child, insult the gods. CHOR. Neither these tridents, nor this solemn scene Will awe them to refrain their impious hands. They scorn the gods, and with unhallowed force Rush madly on, like savage, rav'ning dogs. DAN. But dogs, they say, yield to the mast'ring wolves ; And the soft reed to the firm-spiked corn. CHOR. They have the force of wild and savage beasts ; We must escape them therefore, as we may. DAN. Slow are th' advances of a naval train ; Slow the arrangements of the ships ; the care To fix the cables, slow ; th' experienced chiefs THE SUPPLICANTS. 71 Trust not too soon the biting anchor's hold, If stationed where no harbour winds around : And when the golden sun withdraws his beams, The gloom of night brings many an anxious care ; Nor dare they, till their vessels ride secure, Attempt to land. But take thou heed, nor let Thy fears impel thee to neglect the gods ; But ask their aid. The State will not disdain My age, that tells with youthful warmth its tidings. CHORUS. Strophe i. Ye rising hills, whose reverend heads Majestic wave their awe-commanding shades, What woes our shudd'ring souls await? Or flying on the wings of fear, In some cavern dark and drear Deep shall we plunge, and hide us from our fate? Oh, that I could as smoke arise, That rolls its black wreaths through the air ; Mix with the clouds, that o'er the skies Show their light forms, and disappear : Or like the dust be tossed By ev'ry sportive wind, till all be lost ! Antistrophe i. Such thoughts in deep despair I roil, The gloom of sorrow black'ning on my soul. Ah, father,, the vexed ocean round What horrors struck thy aching sight ! Dismay, and pale affright, And wild amazement sink me to the ground. 72 THE SUPPLICANTS. Shall then the base, detested band With rude touch seize us for their own ? No : rather shall this daring hand Prepare for death the conscious zone ; Rather in deep disdain My pale shade sink to Pluto's dreary reign. Strophe 2. Oh, might I sit sublime in air, Where wat'ry clouds the freezing snows prepare ! Or on a rock whose threatening brow. Th' aerial vultures unreached seat, In solitary state Frowns ruinous o'er th' affrighted waste below : Rolled headlong down its rugged side, A mangled carcase let me lie, Ere dragged a pale, unwilling bride, Victim to sad necessity ; And my indignant heart Feel the keen wounds of sorrow's tort'ring dart. Antistrophe 2. Throw me, ere that detested day, To prowling dogs and rav'nous birds a prey. No form of death affrights me now : O thou, assigned the wretches' friend, To bid his miseries end, And in oblivion's balm to steep his woe ; Come, gentle death, ere that sad hour Which drags me to the nuptial bed ; And let me find in thy soft power A refuge from the force I dread ; Oh spread thy sable cloud, And in its unpierced gloom our sorrows shroud ! THE SUPPLICANTS. 73 Epode. Higher let your voices rise, And swell the choral descant to the skies, Notes of such a lofty vein, That gods may listen to the solemn strain ! Eternal Sire, from heaven's high throne, If thy indignant eyeballs glow With vengeance at foul deeds below, Look down, thou sovereign of the world, look down : /Egyptus' sons, a ruffian race, Our flying footsteps chase ; And on our trembling, weeping band Advance to lay their vengeful hand : Extend thy golden scales, For without thee what mortal worth avails ? By land, by sea, They seek their prey ; Oh ! ere they seize it, may the ruffians die ! Again I raise the mournful cry. They come, they come, the haughty foes : These are but preludes to my woes, To yon strong rampires bend your flight ; By sea, by land they rush severe, And with their stern and threat'ning air, The softness of our sex affright. Look down, thou sovereign of the world, and save ! HERALD, CHORUS. HERALD. Hence to the ship, hence with your utmost speed. CHOR. No, never, never; drag me, drag me, stab me, Rend from these mangled limbs my bleeding head. HER. Hence to the ship, abandoned wretches, hence, That waits to waft you, with your injured lords, 74 THE SUPPLICANTS. O'er the wide billows of yon briny deep. Haste, or this spear, with bridal garlands bound, Taught a less gentle office, there shall place you Smarting with many a wound ; there sit, and sigh. No more, I charge you, of these fro ward moods, Or force shall drive them from you. CHOR. Woe is me ! HER. Haste, quit these seats, haste to the ships, and go Inviolate to the city of the pious. CHOR. Ah ! never may these eyes again behold That rich enlivening stream, which he who drinks Feels his fresh blood dance lively in his veins. My unpolluted life amidst these seats, These sacred seats, old man, preserve me sacred. HER. Nay, tell not me ; but to the ship, the ship, Averse or not averse, quick shalt thou go ; Or vengeance, chastening vengeance to thy feet Add wings and up the barque's tall sides pursue thee. CHOR. Ah woe, woe, woe ! Barbarian, may the winds In all their fury hurl thee on the rocks Of rough Cilicia's brow ; or dash thy corse An outcast on the swelling sands beneath. HER. Cry, shriek, invoke the gods ; yet shalt thou not Escape the ship of ^Egypt ; louder shriek, Cry woe, and woe : if the name please thee, take it. CHOR. Ah wretched me ! Pollution of the land, How fierce he yells ! Insolent wretch, away, Thy rude touch wounds me : for this ruffian force, Rise, mighty Nile, whelm him beneath thy floods ! HER. Hence, I command you ; to the rolling vessel Instantly hence : if one presumes to linger, I pay no reverence to your crisped locks, This hand perforce shall drag her by her tresses. CHOR. Ah me, immortal Sire ! Insolent force THE SUPPLICANTS. 75 Will hurry me away : it drags me now Entangled in ks nets ; and all my hopes Are vanished like a dream, a dusky dream. Earth, I adjure thee, shield me ; shield me, Jove, God of this land ; save me in this hard conflict. HER. Gods of this land ! They awe not me ; my youlh They nourished not, nor to old age upheld me. CHOR. Near me the serpent rolls his train, and soon Will, like a pois'nous viper, dart upon me. Earth, I adjure thee, shield me ; shield me, Jove, God of this land ; save me in this hard conflict. HER. If one of you perversely lingers here, Your richly purfled stoles shall find no mercy. CHOR. Ye rulers of the city, force o'erpowers me. HER. You shall see many rulers, doubt not, soon, ^Egyptus' sons ; no anarchy is here. CHOR. Unlooked-for ruin comes, O king, upon us, HER. I must use force, I see, and pluck you hence Dragged by the locks, since my words move you not. PELASGUS, HERALD, CHORUS. PELASGUS. Whence these outrageous deeds ? How dares thy pride Offer this insult to the land, where dwell Pelasgian men ? Or didst thou deem that women Alone inhabit here ? Thy savage acts, Barbarian, touch the dignity of Greece. Learn thy mistake then, and thine high offence. HER. Against what law, what right have I offended ? PEL. First, dost thou know thou art a stranger here ? HER. A stranger here I found what I had lost. PEL. To whom hast thou addressed thee for protection ? HER. To Mercury, who directs the stranger's search. PEL. The gods ! Thou hast no reverence for ihe gods. 76 THE SUPPLICANTS. HER. Yes, for the gods of Nile, a holy reverence. PEL. But none for these, if right I understand thee. HER. These lead I hence ; and who shall take them from me ? PEL. Dare but to touch them, dear shalt thou abide it. HER. Is this your hospitality to strangers? PEL. I owe the ruffian none, that robs the gods. HER. Go then, announce this to ^gyptus' sons. PEL. It suits not me ; my soul disdains the office. HER. Then let me speak, and plainly ; it becomes A herald's office to speak all things plain. How ruffians, say, how robbers of the gods, This kindred train, that comes to claim these women ? Not by the voice of evidence does Mars Decide these things ; nor for a mulct of gold Compound the dreadful quarrel ; ere it ends Many shall shed their dear blood in the dust, Many lie low on earth, and bite the ground. PEL. Hear then what honour prompts, what justice dictates, And bear it to the partners of thy voyage. If these approve, if their free will incline them, Lead them, if gentle words win their assent. This firm decree the suffrage of the State Has rendered sacred, not by force to yield A train of females ; this resolve, be sure, Is strongly fixed, and never can be shaken. Though not engraved on tablets, nor enrolled In seal-stamped volumes, my free voice declares it In words of plainest import. Take thy answer ; Hence from my sight, with thy best speed be gone. HER. Know then a rising war awaits thy choice ; Valour and conquest crown the helms of men. PEL. You shall be met by men, whose lively blood Dull draughts of barley wine have never clogged. THE SUPPLICANTS. 77 Now virgins, with your train of faithful friends, Dismiss your fears ; enter this town, whose walls Strong-built, and crowned with many a bulwark, lift Their towered heads impregnable : within The State has many structures ; nor is mine A thin inhabitation; such a house, Where cheerful numbers live in wealth and splendour, May haply please you : if a private mansion, To your own use devote, be more your wish ; The best of these, the most approved, is yours ; Make your free choice : I will protect you ; all This friendly State, supporting their decree, Will shield you. What, wish you more powerful guardians ? CHOR. For these thy bounties may the bounteous gods Shower blessings on thy head, thou gen'rous king Of brave Pelasgia ! But benevolent Send us our father Danaus, on whose firm And provident counsels we rely. His care And sage advice is needful, where to choose Our dwelling, our secure retreat. The tongue Of slander is too prompt with wanton malice To wound the stranger : act we then with caution. PEL. With honour, lovely virgins, with the voice Of fair-applauding fame amidst our city Shall your appointment be, where'er your father Assigns to each her mansion and attendants. DANAUS, CHORUS, DANAUS. Daughters, it well becomes you to these As to th' immortal gods, to offer vows, [Argives, Libation, sacrifice, and ev'ry rite Religion knows ; so liberal their protection, So readily they lent their friendly ears, And favoured all my deeds against these youths, 78 THE SUPPLICANTS. These kindred youths, whose headlong pride thus haunts you. Behold these spears a-round, to me assigned An honourable guard, that no rude hand With barb'roiis rage may lift the secret swqrd, And with my blood pollute the pious land. This grace, this condescension claims my thanks, And you with grateful minds honour it ever. To all the wise instructions of your father, Graved in your faithful tablets, gt*yc these also, That after-time* may hold this stranger train In reverence. Know then this, the tongue of malice Is ever prompt to wound the stranger's fame With stings of infamy : I charge you then Disgrace me not. I see your blooming age, Enforcing soft desire ; I know how hard To guard the lovely flowers that grace that season. Beasts love to riot on their sweets, and man, Each insect, and each wanton-winged bird. The Queen of Love proclaims their opening bloom ; Ah, would she suffer it to remain uncropt ! And on the delicate tints, that kindling glow On beauty's vermeil cheek, each roving youth With melting wishes darts the amorous glance. We brook not this ; else why these various toils, These wand'rings o'er the wide-extended main ? Let us not work this scandal to ourselves, And triumph to our foes. Two mansions here Are offered to your choice ; Pelasgus one Would give, and one the State ; beneath whose roof No male attendant waits : the choice is easy. Only observe these precepts of your father, And guard with heedful care your virgin honour. CMOR. O may the powers of Heavin in all besides THE SUPPLICANTS. 79 Be gracious to us : in our virgin honour Have confidence : be their high wills unchanged, I shall not deviate from my mind's fixed plan. CHOR. Go then, ye pure, ye pious train, In triumph go to those blessed powers That o'er this State extend their reign Imperial guardians of these towers ; Imperial guardians of these glades, Along whose hallowed shades His dark'ning stream old Erasinus rolls : With courage arm your souls. No more to Nile's deep floods belong The warbled voice, the raptured song ; Our praise Pelasgia's towns demand ; And each fresh fount, that lores to lead His humid train throngh grovo, through mead, And rolls luxuriance through the land. Virgin Diana, bend thine eye, And piteous of a virgin's woes, O save ensnared chastity, From the rude touch of hated foes : Nor see thy struggling vot'ries led Where Venus decks the bed ! Nor, Queen of Love, shall our mellifluous lays Be silent in thy praise : For thou, next Heaven's imperial queen, In highest grace with Jove art seen, And mighty deeds declare thy power : The passions hear thy soft control ; Thy sweet voice melts the willing soul, Enchanted with thy honied lore^ Round thee, where'er thou lead'st the way, Joyful the frolic Cupids rove ; So THE SUPPLICANTS. And as their antic sports they play, Whisper the harmony of love. But what have I with love or joy ? My peace wild fears annoy, The miseries of flight, pursuit's alarms, And slaughter-threat'ning arms : Why else the quick, the fav'ring gales Waft o'er the waves their flying sails ? SEMICHOR. This is the fixed decree of fate ; And thus high Heaven's unbounded Lord, Pronounced th 1 irrevocable word, And doomed us to the nuptial state. CHOR. Ah ! never may his sovereign will Me to ^Egyptus' sons unite ! SEMICHOR. This is to grasp at shadows still, And soothe thy soul with vain delight. CHOR. Know'st thou his will ? Or has thine eye Looked through futurity ? SEMICHOR. His mind I dare not scan, immense, pro- found : And thou thy wishes bound ; 'Gainst Heaven's high will exclaim no more, But in mute meekness learn t' adore. CHOR. Almighty Sire, whose healing hand Soothed thy loved 16's soul to rest, With comfort cheer this sorrowing breast, And save us from this hostile band ! For me through Fortune's cloud Hope beams her ray, And from that bright'ning part goes bright'ning on ; So right succeeding right shall force its way, And the good gods complete what Greece begun. THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES. BESIDES this Siege of Thebes, ^Eschylus wrote three tragedies on the subjects of Laius, CEdipus, and the Sphinx, which are lost. Woe to the ravenous jaws of time, that have devoured these precious morsels of antiquity; we should otherwise have had from this great master a regular, and, no doubt, an interesting account of this illustrious and unfor- tunate family. It is said that -^Eschylus particularly valued himself upon this tragedy : not without reason ; for it has all that bold painting with which we might expect his martial genius would embellish such a subject. Always magnificent, he has fixed the scene in Thebes before the principal temple : the clash of arms, the neighing of the horses, and the shouts of the soldiers are heard : Eteocles appears surrounded with the citizens, whom he animates to defend the walls : in the meantime the Chorus, which is composed of Theban ladies, distracted with their fears, are hanging on the statues of the gods that adorn the area before the temple. Longinus has remarked on the sublimity of the dialogue ; it is worthy an experienced veteran and a brave young king arming in defence of his crown, his life, and his honour ; it is worthy of yEschylus. The characters of the Seven Chiefs that command in the attack are exquisitely 82 THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THESES. marked and varied ; and their impetuous ferocity is ad- mirably contrasted with the calm and deliberate courage of those appointed to oppose them. The shields of six of these chiefs are charged with armorial bearings expressive of their characters, and as regular as if they had been marshalled by a herald-at-arms : the impresses are devised with a fine imagination and wonderful propriety. The judicious choice of the persons of the Chorus forms one of the principal graces of this tragedy, as it gave the poet an opportunity of mixing the natural timidity of the female character with the animated and fiery daring of heroes, the fears of these daughters of Cadmus presenting nothing to their imagination but the scenes of distress and horror which the insolence of conquest spreads through a vanquished and plundered city, and this painted in the warmest colours, in the strongest style of Aaechylus. Besides the intrinsic beauty of this tragedy) which is very striking, it has to us this further merit, that ti gave birth to three of the finest poems of antiquity, the Antigone of Sophocles, the Phcenissae of Euripides, and the Thebai'd of Statins. PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. ETEOCLES. SOLDIER. ANTIGONE. ISMENE. HERALD. CHORUS OF THEBAN VIRGINS. ETEOCLES, CHORUS. ETEOCLES. Ye citizens of Cadmus, it behoves The man that guides the helm of State, to speak What the sad times require ; nor suffer sleep To weigh his eyelids down. For if success Attends our toils, to the good gods we bow, THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES. 83 The authors of the blessing : should misfortune, Avert it, Heaven ! befall, Eteocles Shall hear his name alone wide through the city Insulted by each tongue, that vents its spleen In mutinous reproach, or loud laments : From which may Jove, the guardian of our State, Defend the sons of Cadmus ! But this hour Calls on you all, whether your flow'ry spring Yet wants the prime of manhood,, or your age Puts forth its firmest strength, t' exert your powers, Well it becomes you, to defend the city, The aliars of the gods presiding here (Ah, never may their honours be effaced !) Your children, and this land, your common parent, And dearest nurse, who on her fost'ring soil Upheld with bounteous care your infant steps, tA.nd trained you to this service, that your hands In her defence might lift the faithful shield. E'en to this day indeed the gods incline To favour us ; and though so long immured Within our rampires, each bold work of war Hath prospered in our hands. But now the seer, That listens to the flight of birds, and thence Forms in his prescient mind the sure presage, Guiltless of fire, from their oracular wings Draws his deep skill, and warns us that the powers Of Greece, combined against us, in the night Advancing, meditate the dark assault. Haste all then to the walls, haste to the bulwarks With all your arms, fill every tower, secure Each pass, stand firm at every gate, be bold, Nor fear th' assailing numbers : Heaven is with us. Meanwhile on every quarter have I sent To observe their forces, and descry their march : 8i r TPIE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES. By these, not charged, I trust, in vain to watch, Informed I guard against the wiles of war. SOLDIER, ETEOCLES, CHORUS. SOLDIER. Illustrious king of Thebes, I bring thcc tidings Of firm assurance from the foe ; these eyes Beheld each circumstance. Seven valiant chiefs Slew on the black-orbed shield the victim bull, And, dipping in the gore their furious hands, In solemn oath attest the god of war, Bellona, and the carnage-loving power Of terror, sworn from their firm base to rend These walls, and lay their ramparts in the dust ; Or, dying, with their warm blood steep this earth. Each in Adrastus' car some dear remembrance Piled to their distant parents, whilst their eyes Dropped tears, but on their face was no remorse. Each soul of iron glowing with the rage Of valour, as the lion when he glares Determined battle. What I now relate Sleeps not, nor lingers : round the urn I left them, By lot deciding to what gate each chief Shall lead his forces. These against select The best, the bravest of the sons of Thebes, And instant at the gates assign their stations. For all in arms the Argive host comes on Involved in dust, and from the snorting steeds The thick foam falls, and dews the whitened fields. Be thine the provident pilot's gen'rous care, Guard well the town, ere yet the storm assails it ; E'en now the waves of war roar o'er the plain : Seize then this fair occasion, instant seize it. My faithful eye this day shall hold the watch, That well informed, no danger may surprise thee. THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES. 85 ETE. O Jove, O Earth, O all ye guardian gods ; And thou dread curse, the fury of my father, Of fatal power, O rend not from its roots This mined city by th' insulting foe Trampled in dust, her sweet Helladian tongue Silent, and all her sacred fires extinct ! Ah ! never let this land, this town of Cadmus Bend her free neck beneath the servile yoke ! Protect her, save her ; as you share her honours I plead : a flourishing State reveres the gods. CHOR. Woe, woe, intolerable woe ! Fierce from their camps the hosts advance, Before their march with thund'ring tread Proud o'er the plain their fiery coursers prance, And hither bend their footsteps dread : Yon cloud of dust that chokes the air, A true though tongueless messenger, Marks plain the progress of the foe. And now the horrid clash of arms, That, like the torrent, whose impetuous tide Roars down the mountain's craggy side, Shook the wide fields with fierce alarms, With nearer terrors strikes our souls, And through our chaste recesses rolls : Hear, all ye powers of Heaven, propitious hear, And check the furies of this threat'ning war ! The crowded walls around Loud clamours rend the sky ; Whilst ranged in deep array th' embattled powers Their silver shields lift high, And, level with the ground To lay their rampired heads, assail our towers. What guardian god shall I implore ? 86 THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES. Bending at what sacred shrine Call from their happy seats what powers divine. And suppliant evVy sculptured form adore ? The time demands it : why then, why delay ? The sound of arms, swells on my affrighted ear. Hold now the pall, the garland, as you pray. Hark ! 'tis the rude clash of no single spear. Stern god of war, Dost thou prepare Thy sacred city to betray ? Look down, look down ; O save thine own ; Nor leave us to the foe a prey : If e'er thy soul had pleasure in the brave, God of the golden helm, hear us, and save ! And all ye powers, whose guardian care Protects these walls, this favoured land, O hear these pious, suppliant strains ; Propitious aid us, aid a virgin band, And save us from the victor's chains ! For all around with crested pride High waves the helm's terrific tide, Tossed by the furious breath of war. And thou, great Jove, almighty Sire, Confound with foul defeat these Argive powers Whose arms insult our leaguered towers, And fright our souls with hostile fire. The reins that curb their proud steeds 'round, Rattle, and death is in the sound : 'Gainst our seven gates seven chiefs of high command, In arms spear-proof, take their appointed stand. Daughter of Jove, whose soul Glows at th' embattled plain : THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES. 87 And thou by whom the pawing steed arose, Great monarch of the main Curbed by thy strong control ; From our fears free us, free us from our foes ! On thee, stern Mars, again I call : Haste thee, god, and with thee bring The Queen of Love, from whose high race we spring ; If Cadmus e'er was dear, defend his wall ! Thou terror of the savage Phoebus, hear, In all thy "terrors rush upon the foe ! Chaste virgin-huntress, goddess ever dear, Wing the keen arrow from thy ready bow ! Hark ! fraught with war The groaning car, Imperial Juno shakes the ground 1 Fierce as they pass, The wheels of brass, Dear virgin-huntress ! roar around : The gleaming lustre of the brandished spear Glares terribly across the troubled air. Alas my country ! must these eyes, Must these sad eyes behold thy fall ? Ah, what a storm of stones, that flies, And winged with ruin smites the wall ! O Phcebus ! at each crowded gate Begins the dreadful work of fate ; Each arm the thund'ring falchion wields, And clashes on the sounding shields. O thou, whose kind and matchless might, Blest Onca, through the glowing fight Obedient conquest joys t' attend, All our seven gates, dread queen, defend ! And all ye mighty, guardian powers, That here preside, protect our towers : 88 THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES. Nor the war-wasted town betray, To fierce and dissonant foes a prey ! Ye gods, deliverers of this land, To whom we stretch the suppliant hand, Hear us, O hear our virgin prayer, And show that Thebes is yet your care ! By every solemn temple, every shrine, Each hallowed orgie, and each rite divine, Each honour to your power in reverence paid, Hear us, ye guardian gods, hear us. and aid \ ETEOCLES, CHORUS. ETE. It is not to be borne, ye wayward race : Is this your best, is this the aid you lend The State, the fortitude with which you steel The souls of the besieged, thus falling down Before these images to wail, and shriek With lamentations loud ? Wisdom abhors you. Nor in misfortune, nor in dear success, Be woman my associate : if her power Bears sway, her insolence exceeds all bounds But if she fears, woe to that house and city. And now, by holding counsel with weak fear, You magnify the foe, and turn our men To flight : thus are we ruined by ourselves. This ever will arise from suffering women To intermix with men. But mark me well, Whoe'er henceforth dares disobey my orders,' Be it or man or woman, old or young, Vengeance shall burst upon him, the decree Stands irreversible, and he shall die. War is no female province, but the scene For men : hence, home ; nor spread your mischiefs here. Hear you, or not ? Or speak I to the deaf? THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES. 89 CHOR. Dear to thy country, son of CEdipus, My soul was seized with terror, when I heard The rapid car roll on, its whirling wheels Grating harsh thunder ; and the iron curb Incessant clashing on the barbed steed. ETE. What \ should the pilot, when the labouring' barque Scarce rides the swelling surge, forsake the helm, And seek his safety from the sculptured prow ? CHOR. Yet therefore to these ancient images, Confiding in their sacred power, I ran, When at the gates sharp sleet of arrowy shower Drove hard ; my fears impelled me to implore The blest gods to protect the city's strength. ETE. Pray that our towers repel the hostile spear. CHOR. This shall the gods ETE. The gods, they say, prepare To quit their seats, and leave a vanquished town, CHOR. Ah, never, whilst I breathe the vital air, May their blest train forsake us ; nor these eyes Behold destruction raging through our streets, And in fierce flames our stately structures blaze! ETE. Let not these invocations of the gods Make you improvident ; remember rather Obedience is the mother of success, Wedded to safety : so the wise assure us. CHOR. Yet in the gods is a superior power, Which often in afflictions clears away Th' impenetrable cloud, whose sullen gloom Sharp misery hung before our darkened eyes. ETE. The victim, and the hallowed sacrifice, When the foes menace, are the task of men ; Thine, to be silent, and remain at home. CHOR. That we possess our city yet unconquered, That yet our towers repel th' assailing foe, 90 THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES. Is from the gods : from them our voice calls down Further success. Why should this move thy anger ? ETE. It does not, virgin : no ; your pious vows I blame not. But be silent; lest thy fears, Swelling to this excess, dismay our youth. CHOR. Affrighted at the sudden din of war, And trembling with my fears, with hasty foot I sought this citadel, this sacred seat. ETE. If haply now your eyes behold the dead, Or wounded ; burst not forth in loud laments : For blood and carnage is the food of war. CHOR. Distinct I hear the fiery-neighing steed. ETE. Whate'er thou hear'st. it asks not thy attention. CHOR. The city shakes beneath th' enclosing foes. ETE. Be satisfied : to guard it is my charge. CHOR. I fear : the clash is louder at the gates. ETE. Peace ; nor distract the city with thy cries. CHOR. Ye social powers, leave not our walls defenceless. ETE. Woe on thee ! Canst thou not bear this in silence ? CHOR. Gods of this State, save me from slavery ! ETE. Me wouldst thou make a slave, and all the State. CHOR. All-powerful Jove, turn on the foe the sword ! ETE. Heavens, of what quality are women formed ? CHOR. Wretched, as men are, in their country's ruin. ETE. Still wail thy country? Still embrace these gods ? CHOR. Wild with my fears, I speak I know not what. ETE. Wouldst thou indulge me in a light request ? CHOR. Speak it at once, quickly shall I obey. ETE. Be silent, wretch ; nor terrify thy friends. CHOR. I will ; and with them bear what fate decrees. ETE. I praise thy resolution. Clasp no more These images ; but stand apart, and ask Happier events ; entreat the friendly gods To aid us. Hear my vows ; then instant raise THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES. The heaven-appeasing Paean, whose high strains Of solemn import, 'midst her sacred rites, Greece pours symphonious ; strains that raise the soul To generous courage, and the fixed disdain Of fear and danger. To the guardian gods Whose tutelary power protects our fields, Protects our crowded streets ; to Dirce's fount ; Nor thee, Ismenus, will I pass imhonoured ; If conquest crowns our helms, and saves our city, The hallowed sacrifice shall bleed, and load Their smoking altars ; this victorous hand Shall raise the glittering trophies, and hang high, To grace their sacred walls, the rich-wrought vests, Spoils of the war, rent from the bleeding foe. Breathe to the gods these vows : but let no sigh Break forth, no lamentation rude and vain : Weak is their power to save thee from thy fate. My charge shall be at our seven gates to fix Six of our bravest youth, myself the seventh, In dreadful opposition to the foe ; Ere yet the violent and tumultuous cry Calls me perforce to join the fiery conflict. CHORUS. i. i. I would obey thee ; but my breast Yet pants with fear and knows not rest ; Too near my heart distracting care Wakes all the horrors of despair : And as the trembling dove, whose fears Keep watch in her uneasy bower, Thinks in each rustling leaf she hears The serpent gliding to devour, 92 THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES. I tremble at each sullen sound Of clashing arms, that roars around : With all their troops, with all their powers, Fierce they advance to storm our towers j Now hurtling in the darkened sky, What does my cruel fate prepare ! Rude, battering stones incessant fly, And all the missive storm of war. I. 2. Guard, ye great gods, O guard our wall, . Nor let the towers of Cadmus fall ! Ah ! to what fairer, richer plain Your radiant presence will you deign, These fields abandoned to the foes, Through whose crisped shades and smiling meads, Jocundly warbling as she goes, Dirce her liquid treasures leads, And boasts that Tethys never gave, Nor all her nymphs, a purer wave ! Deign then, ye gods that guard this land, Here deign to take your hallowed stand : Asseit your glory : on the foe Pour rout, and havoc, and dismay, Confusion wild, soul-with'ring woe, And flight, that flings his arms away. I- 3- Hear then the mournful, solemn strain : J'Y>r dreadful were its fate, should this strong wall, This ancient, rampired city fall, A ad spread its light dust o'er th' encumbered plain, Beneath the proud Achaian spear, Dishonoured sunk, the waste of war, THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES. 93 Should the fresh virgin's bloom, the matron's age, By the fierce victor's fiery rage, Their robes all rent, their bleeding bosoms bare, Be dragged by their loose-flowing hair, Like horses, a reluctant prize ; The desolated streets re-echoing to their cries ? n. i. Before my sad presaging soul What scenes of imaged horror roll ! I see the tender virgin's woe, Ere yet her ripened beauties glow; The hateful way I see her tread, Forcibly torn from her sweet home : Happier, far happier are the dead ; They rest within the silent tomb. But, the walls humbled to the ground, What dreadful miseries rage around ! Furious one leads the vengeful bands ; One stains with blood his reeking hands ; Wide roll, outrageous to destroy, The dusky smoke, and torrent fires ; Whilst slaught'ring Mars with hideous joy The heaven-contemning rage inspires. II. 2. From house to house, from street to street, The crashing flames roar round, and meet ; Each way the fiery deluge preys, And girds us with the circling blaze. The brave, that 'midst these dire alarms For their lost country greatly dare. And fired with vengeance rush to arms, Fall victims to the blood-stained spear. J4 THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES. The bleeding babe, with innocent cries, Drops from his mother's breast, and dies. See rapine rushes, bent on prey, His hasty step brooks no delay. The spoiler, loaded with his store, Envious the loaded spoiler views ; Disdains another should have more, And his insatiate toil renews. H. 3- Thick on the earth the rich spoil lies : For the rude plunderer's restless-rolling tide, Their worthless numbers waving wide, Drop in their wild haste many a glitt'ring prize. Whilst, in her chaste apartment bred, The trembling virgin captive led, Pours, in the anguish of her soul, the tear : And, torn from all her heart holds dear, The youthful bride, a novice yet in woe, Obeys the haughty, happy foe. But ere such horrors blast my sight, May these sad eyes close in eternal night ! SEMICHOR. See, from his watch the veteran returns, Bearing, I ween, fresh tidings from yon host, Of highest import : quick his foot, and hasty. This way, behold, the son of CEdipus, The king himself advances, pressing on His hurried step to learn their new-formed measures ETEOCLES, SOLDIER, CHORDS. SOLDIER. Now I can tell thee, for I know it well, The disposition of the foe, and how Each at our gates takes his allotted post. Already near the Pnetiaa gate in arms , t ~ THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES. 95 Stands Tydeus raging ; for the prophet's voice Forbids his foot to pass Ismenus' stream, The victims not propitious : at the pass Furious, and eager for the fight, the chief, Fierce as the dragon when the mid-day sun Calls forth his glowing terrors, raves aloud, Reviles the sage, as forming tim'rous league With war and fate. Frowning he speaks, and shakes The dark crest streaming o'er his shaded helm In triple wave ; whilst dreadful ring around The brazen bosses of his shield, impressed With this proud argument. A sable sky Burning with stars ; and in the midst full-orbed A silver moon, the eye of night, o'er all Awful in beauty pours her peerless light. Clad in these proud habiliments, he stands Close to the river's margin, and with shouts Demands the war, like an impatient steed, That pants upon the foaming curb, and waits With fiery expectation the known signal, Swift at the trumpet's sound to burst away. Before the Praetian gate, its bars removed, What equal chief wilt thou appoint against him ? ETE. This military pride, it moves not me : The gorgeous blazonry of arms, the crest High waving o'er the helm, the roaring boss, Harmless without the spear, imprint no wound. The sable night, spangled with golden stars, On his proud shield impressed, perchance may prove A gloomy presage. Should the shades of night Fall on his dying eyes, the boastful charge May to the bearer be deemed ominous, And he the prophet of his own destruction. Against his rage the son of Astacus, 96 THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES. Thai breathes deliberate valour, at that gate Will I appoint commander ; bent on deeds Of glory, but a votary at the shrine Of modesty, he scorns the arrogant vaunt As base, but bids brave actions speak his worth. The flower of that bold stem, which from the ground Rose armed, and fell not in the deathful fight, Is Menalippus ; him his parent earth Claims as her own, and in her natural right Calls him to guard her from the hostile spear : But the brave deed the die of war decides. CHOR. Go then, my guardian hero, go ; And may each fav'ring god with bright success Thy gen'rous valour bless : For at thy country's dear command Thou arm'st thy righteous hand, To pour her vengeance.on the foe. Yet my sad heart must sigh, When on the blood-empurpled ground, Gored with many a gaping wound, I see my dearest friends expiring lie. SOL. May the gods crown his valiant toil with conquest. But Capaneus against th' Electran gates Takes his allotted post, and tow'ring stands Vast as the earth-born giants, and inflamed To more than mortal daring : horribly He menaces the walls ; may Heaven avert His impious rage ! vaunts that, the gods assenting Or not assenting, his strong hand shall rend Their rampires down; that e'en the rage of Jove Descending on the field should not restrain him. His lightnings, and his thunders winged with fire, He likens to the sun's meridian heat. On his proud shield portraved, a naked man THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES. 97 Waves in his hand a blazing torch ; beneath In golden letters, I WILL FIRE THE CITY. Against this man But who shall dare t' engage His might, and dauntless his proud rage sustain ? ETE. Advantage from advantage here arises. The arrogant vaunts, which man's vain tongue throws out, Shall on himself recoil. This haughty chief Threats high, and prompt to execute his threats Spurns at the gods, opes his unhallowed lips In shallow exultations, hurls on high, Weak mortal as he is, 'gainst Jove himself Hurls his extravagant and wild defiance. On him, I trust, the thunder winged with fire, Far other than the sun's meridian heat, Shall roll its vengeance. But against his pride, Insolent vaunter, shall the glowing spirit, That burns for glory in the daring breast Of Polyphonies, be opposed : his arm, Strong in Diana's tutelary aid, Shall be a sure defence. But to thy tale ; Who next before our gates assumes his station ? CHOR. Yes, let him perish, the proud foe, That storms, in savage hope, the vanquished town, And rends its rampires down. Him first may Heaven's almighty Sire, Rolling his vengeful fire, Dash in the flaming ruin low ; Ere his impetuous spear Bursts ever}' bar of my retreat, And from my virgin seat Drags me perforce from all my soul holds dear. SOL. Third from the brazen helm leaped forth the lot Of fierce Eteoclus, who takes his post Against the gates of Neis : thero he whirls 98 THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES. His fiery-neighing steeds, that toss their heads Proud of their nodding plumes, eager to rush Against the gates, and snorting, champ their curbs Bossed with barbaric pride. No mean device Is sculptured on his shield, a man in arms, His ladder fixed against the enemy's walls, Mounts, resolute to rend their rampires down ; And cries aloud, the letters plainly marked NOT MARS HIMSELF SHALL BEAT ME FROM THE TOWERS. Appoint of equal hardihood some chief To guard the city from the servile yoke. ETE. Such shall I send, to conquest send him ; one That bears not in his hand this pageantry Of martial pride. The hardy Megareus, From Creon sprung, and that bold race, which rose Embattled from the. earth : him from the gates The furious neighings of the fiery steeds Affright not ; but his blood spilt on the earth Amply requites the nouriture she gave him, Or captive both, the man in arms, the town Stormed on the sculptured shield, and the proud bearer, Shall with their spoils adorn his father's house. CHOR. Go then, and glory be thy guide ! For thee, brave youth, we pour this ardent prayer, And fav'ring Heaven shall hear. Go then, my house's guardian, go, And rushing on the foe, Bravely repel their vaunting pride. And as each furious soul Hurls the ferocious menace high, May he, that rules thr sky, In vengeance his indignant eyeballs roll ! SOL. At the next gate, named from the martial goddess Onca Minerva, stands Hippomedon. THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES. 99 I heard his thund'ring voice, I saw his form In bulk and stature proudly eminent ; I saw him roll his shield, large, massy, round, Of broad circumference ; it struck my soul With terror. On its orb no vulgar artist Expressed this image, a Typhaeus huge, Disgorging from his foul enfouldered jaws, In fierce effusion, wreaths of dusky smoke, Signal of kindling flames : its bending verge With folds of twisted serpents bordered round. With shouts the giant-chief provokes the war ; And in the ravings of outrageous valour Glares terror from his eyes. Behoves thee then Strong opposition to his fiery rage, Which at the gates e'en now spreads wild dismay. ETE. First, Onca Pallas, holding near the gates Her hallowed state, abhors his furious rage ; And in her guardian care shall crush the pride Of this fell dragon. Then the son of ^nops, Hyperbius. of approved and steady valour, Shall man to man oppose him ; one that dares Assay his fate in the rough shock of battle ; In form, in spirit, and in martial arms Consummate ; such high grace Hermes conferred. In hostile arms thus man shall combat man, And to the battle on their sculptured shields Bring adverse gods ; the fierce Typhseus he, Breathing forth flakes of fire ; Hyperbius bears The majesty of Jove securely throned, Grasping his flaming bolt : and who e'er saw The Thund'rer vanquished ? In the fellowship Of friendly gods, the conquerors are with us, They with the conquered ; and with like event These warriors shall engage. As Jove in fight * D 2 loo THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES. Subdued the fell Typhseus, so his form Emblazoned on the shield shall guard Hyperbius. CHOR. If aught of truth my soul inspires, This chief, that tow'ring o'er th' affrighted field Bears on his sculptured shield Th' enormous monster, buried deep Beneath a mountainous heap, Rolling in vain his turbid fires, Monster accursed, abhorred, By gods above, by men below ; This chief his head shall bow Low at the gate beneath the victor's sword. SOL. Prophetic be thy hopes. At the north gate, Yet hear me, king, the fifth bold warrior takes His station near the tomb where honoured lies Jove-born Amphion : by his spear he swears, Which, as he grasps, he dares to venerate More than a god, and dearer to his eyes Than the sweet light of heaven : by this he swears To level with the ground the walls of Thebes, Though Jove himself oppose him. Thus exclaims This beauteous branch sprung from a mountain nymph, Blooming in manly youth ; the tender down Of unripe age scarce sprouting on his cheek ; But ruthless are his thoughts, cruel his eye, And proudly vaunting at the gate he takes His terrible stand. Upon his clashing shield, Whose orb sustains the storm of war, he bears The foul disgrace of Thebes, a rav'nous sphinx, , Fixed to the plates ; the burnished monster round Pours a portentous gleam : beneath her lies A Theban, mangled by her cruel fangs. 'Gainst this let each brave arm direct the spear, No hireling he. to prostitute for gold THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES. loi The war, or shame the length of way he trod, E'en from Arcadia : such this stranger comes Parthenopceus, and repays to Argos Its hospitable honours, 'gainst these towers Breathing proud menaces. The gods avert them* ! ETE. That ruin, which their fierce aspiring thoughts With impious vaunts intend, may the just gods Turn on themselves, total defeat, and shame ; So let them perish ! To this proud Arcadian No boaster we oppose ; but one whose hand Knows its rough work, Actor, the valiant brother Of him last named. Never will he permit The tongue, without th' assay of warlike deeds, To rush within the gates, and execute Its ruinous threats ; nor him, whose hostile shield Bears sculptured that abhorred and rav'ning beast : And many a thund'ring stroke with stern rebuke Shall check her proud advances to the walls. Soon shall the fav'ring gods confirm these hopes. CHOR. These words appal my throbbing breast : And the light tangles of my braided hair Rise upright with my fear, As from the impious foes around These dreadful voices sound, Furious with thund'ring threats exprest. Ye powers, that rule on high, Scatter their dreaded forces wide, Or let their crested pride Low in the dust beneath our rampires lie ! SOL. The sixth brave chief, that with the golden cuib Of prudence knows to check his gen'rous valour, The fate-foretelling seer, Amphiaraus, At th' Omolsean gate his destined post . Assumes in arms, and on the fiery Tydeus 102 THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES. Throws many a keen reproach, reviles him as A homicide, the troubler of the State, The mighty author of all ill to Argos, With murder and the furies at his heels Urging Adrastus to these hateful deeds. Thy brother Polynices, with him leagued In these despiteful deeds, he blames aloud, Descants upon his name, and thus rebukes him, How grateful to the gods must this deed be, Glorious to hear, and in the roll of fame Shining to distant ages, thus to lead These foreign arms to waste thy bleeding country, To raze those princely mansions, where thy fathers, Heroes and demigods, once held their seats ! But say thy cause be just, will justice dry Thy mother's tears ? And when the furious spear, Hurled by thy hand, shall pierce thy country's bosom, Will she with friendly arms again receive thee ? Prescient of fate I shall enrich this soil, Sunk in the hostile plain. But let us fight. One thing at least is mine ; 1 will not find A vulgar or dishonourable death. So spoke the prophet ; and \tith awful port Advanced his massy shield, the shining orb Bearing no impress : for his gen'rous soul Wishes to be, not to appear, the best ; And from the culture of his modest worth Bears the rich fruit of great and glorious deeds. Him let the virtuous and the wise oppose ; For dreadful is the foe that fears the gods. ETE. I mourn the destiny that blends the just With these unhallowed wretches. Nothing worse In whate'er cause, than impious fellowship ; Nothing of good is reaped ; for when the field THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES. 103 Is sown with wrong, the ripened fruit is death. If with a desperate band, whose hearts are hot With villany, the pious hoists his sails, The vengeance of the gods bursts on the barque And sinks him with the heaven-detested crew. If midst a race, inhospitably bent On savage deeds, regardless of the gods, The just man fix his seat, th' impending wrath Spares not, but strikes him with vindictive fury, Crushed in the general ruin. So this seer, Of tempered wisdom, of unsullied honour, Just, good, and pious, and a mighty prophet, In despite to his better judgment joined With men of impious daring, bent to tread The long, irremeable way, with them Shall, if high Jove assist us, be dragged down To joint perdition. Ne'er shall he advance Against our gates, withheld not by base fear, Or cowardice of soul ; but that he knows His fate, if Phoebus aught of truth foretells, To fall in fight : he loves then to be silent, Since what the time demands he cannot speak, Yet him against the strength of Lasthenes, Who from the stranger's inroad guards our gates, Shall I oppose : in manhood's vig'rous prime He bears the providence of age ; his eye Quick as the lightning's glance ; before his shield Flames his protended spear, and longs f obey His hand. But victory is the gift of Heaven. CHOR. That gift, ye great immortal powers, On the brave guardians of our State bestow : On each victorious brow The radiant honour bind ! Oh, hear A virgin's pious prayer; 104 THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES. Chase the proud strangers from our towers ; Or headlong let them fall, Thy red right hand, almighty Sire, Rolling its vengeful fire! In flaming ruin stretched beneath our wall ! SOL. The seventh bold chief forgive me that I name Thy brother, and relate the horrible Vows, The imprecations, which his rage pours forth Against the city ; on fire to mount the walls, And from their turrets to this land proclaim, Rending its echoes with the song of war, Captivity : to meet thee sword to sword, Kill thee, then die upon thee : if thou livest, T' avenge on thee his exile and disgrace With the like treatment. Thund'ring vengeance thus The rage of Polynices calls the gods, Presiding o'er his country, to look down, And aid his vows. His well-orbed shield he holds, New-wrought, and with a double impress charged : A warrior, blazing all in golden arms, A female form of modern aspect leads, Expressing justice, as th' inscription speaks, YET ONCE MORE TO HIS COUNTRY, AND ONCE MORE TO HIS PATERNAL THRONE I WILL RESTORE HIM. Such their devices. But th' important task, Whom to oppose against his force, is thine. Let not my words offend : I but relate, Do thou command : for thou art sov'reign here. ETE. How dreadful is the hatred of the gods ! Unhappy sons of CEdipus, your fate Claims many a tear. Ah me ! my father's curse Now stamps its vengeance deep. But to lament, Or sigh, or shed the tear, becomes me rot, Lest more intolerable grief arise. Be Polynices told, ill-omenec 1 name, THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES. 105 Soon shall we see how far his blazoned shield Avails ; how far inscriptions wrought in gold, With all their futile vauntings, will restore him. If justice, virgin daughter of high Jove, Had ever formed his mind, or ruled his actions, This might have been : but neither when his eyes First saw the light of life ; nor in the growth Of infancy ; nor in th' advancing years Of youth ; nor in the riper age that clothes With gradual down the manly cheek, did j ustice E'er deign t' instruct, or mark him for her own. Nor now, I ween, in this- his fell intent To crush his country will her presence aid him : For justice were not justice, should she favour Th r injurious outrage of his daring spirit. In this confiding I will meet his arms In armed opposition : who more fit ? Chief shall engage with chief, with brother brother, And foe with foe. Haste, arm me for the fight, Bring forth my greaves, my hauberk, my strong spear. CHOR. Dear to thy country, son of CEdipus, Be not thy rage like his, whom we abhor. Thebes has no dearth of valiant sons t' oppose These Argives ; and their blood may be atoned ; The death of brothers by each other slain, That stain no expiation can atone. ETE. Could man endure defeat without dishonour, 'Twere well : but to the dead nothing remains, Save glory : to the dastard, and the base Fame never pays that honourable meed. CHOR. Ah ! whither dost thou rush? Let not revenge, That wildly raving shakes the furious spear, Transport thee thus. Check this hot tide of passion. ETE. No : since the god impels me, I will on, And let the race of Laius, let them all, 106 THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES. Abhorred by Phcebus, in this storm of fate Sink down to deep Cocytus' dreary flood. CHOR. Cruel and murd'rous is the rage that fires thee - To deeds of death, to unpermitted blood ; And sorrow is the bitter fruit it yields. ETE. My father's curse, a stern relentless fury, Rolling her tearless eyes, looks on and tells me Glory pursues her prize, disdaining fate. CHOR. Ah, rave not thus : fame will not call thee base. Or cowardly, if well thy life be ordered. The gloomy fury enters not his house, Whose hands present th' accepted sacrifice. ETE. The gods accept not us ; and on our fall Glory attends admiring. Why then sue For grace, with servile fear cringeing to death ? CHOR. For that it is at hand : its terrible power Soothed by th' abatement of this fiery valour, May come perchance more gentle ; now it rages. ETE. My father's imprecations rage, and haunt My sleep : too true the real visions rise, And wave the bloody sword that parts his kingdoms. CHOR. Let us persuade thee, though thou scorn'st our sex. ETE. What would thy wish have done ? Speak it in brief. CHOR. Ah ! go not this way : go not to this gate. ETE. My soul's on fire ; nor shall thy words retard me. CHOR. Conquest that spurns at right offends the gods. ETE. Ill suit these tame words the armed warrior's ear. CHOR. And canst thou wish to spill thy brother's blood ? ETE. By the just gods he shall not 'scape my vengeance. CHOR. She comes, the fierce tremendous power, And harrows up my soul with dread ; No gentle goddess, prompt to shower Her blessings on some favoured head. I know her now, the prophetess of ill, THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES. 107 And vengeance ratines each word, The votive fury, fiend abhorred The father's curses to fulfil, Dreadful she comes, and with her brings The brood of fate, that laps the blood of kings. The rude barbarian, from the mines Of Scythia, o'er the lots presides ; Ruthless to each his share assigns, And the contested realm divides : To each allots no wider a domain Than, on the cold earth as they lie, Their breathless bodies occupy, Regardless of an ampler reign. Such narrow compass does the sword, A cruel umpire, their high claims afford. Conflicting thus in furious mood, Should each by other's hand be slain ; Should the black fountain of their blood Spout forth, and drench the thirsty plain ; Who shall the solemn expiation pay ; Who with pure lavers cleanse the dead ; Miseries to miseries thus succeed, And vengeance marks this house her prey, Swift to chastise the first ill deed ; And the son's sons in her deep fury bleed. The first ill deed from Laius sprung : Thrice from his shrine these words of fate Awful the Pythian Phosbus sung, " Die childless, wouldst thou save the State." Urged by his friends, as round the free wine flows, To love's forbidden rites he flies. By the son's hand the father dies, He in the chaste ground, whence he arose, loS THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES. Was bold t' implant the deadly root ; And madness reared each baleful-spreading shoot, Wide o'er misfortune's surging tide Billows succeeding billows spread ; Should one, its fury spent, subside, Another lifts its boist'rous head, And foams around the city's shattered prow. But should the rough tempestuous wave Force through our walls too slight to save And lay the thin partition lo\v. Will not the flood's resistless sway Sweep kings and people, town and realms away ? The dreadful curse pronounced of old To vengeance rouses ruthless hate ; And slaughter, ranging uncontrolled, Pursues the hideous work of fate. Wrecked in the storm the great, the brave, the wise Are sunk beneath the roaring tide. Such was the chief, this city's pride, Dear to each god in yon bright skies, Whose prudence took our dread away, The rav'ning monster gorged with human prey. Where now the chief? His glories where? Fall'n, fall'n. From the polluted bed Indignant madness, wild despair, And agonizing grief succeed. The light of heaven, himself, his sons abhorred, Darkling he feeds his gloomy rage, Bids them, with many a curse, engage, And part their empire with the sword. That curse now holds its unmoved state, The furious fiend charged with the work of fate, THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES. 109 SOLDIER, CHORUS. SOLDIER. Have comfort, virgins, your fond parents' joy ; The city hath escaped the servile yoke, And the proud vaunts of these impetuous men Are fall'n ; the storm is ceased, and the rough waves That threatened to o'erwhelm us, are subsided. Our towers stand firm, each well-appointed chief Guarded his charge with manly fortitude. All at six gates is well ; but at the seventh The god, to whom that mystic number's sacred, Royal Apollo, took his awful stand, Repaying on the race of (Edipus The ill-advised transgression of old Laius. CHOR. What new affliction hath befallen the city ? SOL. The city is preserved : the brother kings Are fallen, each slaughtered by the other's hand. CHOR. Who ? What ? Thy words distract my sense with fear. SOL. Be calm, and hear. The sons of (Edipus. CHOR. Ah me! I am the prophetess of ill. SOL. It is indeed too certain : both are dead. CHOR. Came they to this ? Tis horrible ; yet tell me, SOL. Brother by brother's hands dreadfully slain. CHOR. And has one common fate involved them both ? SOL. It has indeed destroyed th' unhappy race. Here then is cause for lamentation, cause For joy : joy, that the city stands secure; But lamentation, that the chiefs are fall'n. To both the rigid steel, forged in the mines Of Scythia, shares their whole inheritance ; And each receives but that small tract of earth, Which serves him for a tomb ; their father's curse, Fatally cruel, sweeps them both away. no THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES. The city is preserved ; but the dust drinks The blood of the brothers, each by th' other slain. CHORUS Monostrophe. Jove supreme, And all ye gods that guard this State, Should I the joyful Psean raise, And celebrate your praise ? Your guardian care, propitious powers, Preserved our walls, preserved our towers ! Or bid the solemn, doleful strain Lament the chiefs, the brothers slain ; A mournful theme ; Through mad ambition's impious pride Childless, unblessed, in youth's warm tide Fallen, fallen by too severe a fate ? Strophe. Thou gloomy curse, too prompt to ill, A father's vengeance to fulfil, I feel, I feel thee in my shiv'ring breast ! Soon as I heard th' unhappy slain Lay welt'ring on th' ensanguined plain, With inspiration's raging power possest, 1 formed the funeral strains to flow With all the melody of woe. Antistrophe. Thou fell, ill-omened, cruel spear. Couldst thou the father's curses hear, And winged with fury drink the brothers' gore ? Now, Laius, boast the frantic deed ; Thy disobedience has its meed ; The fatal oracle delays no more. THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES, in These are your works ; and round them stand Horrors, and death's avenging band. Epode. Is this a tale of fear- created woe? In very deed before our eyes \Tht dead bodies of ETEOCLES and POLYNICES are here brought on the stage, A twofold scene of misery lies, And from a double slaughter double horrors flow; Whilst grief on grief, and groan on groan Rush in, and make this house their own. Come then, ye virgins, form the mournful bands, To wail the mighty slain ; And ever and anon, at each sad pause The dying cadence draws Together smite your high-raised hands, The sullen sound attempered to the strain, That with many a dismal note Accompanies the sable boat, Slow as its sails on Acheron's dull stream, Wafting its joyless numbers o'er To that unlovely, dreary shore, Which Phoebus never views, nor the light's golden beam, ist SEMICHOR. But see, to aid this mournful office come Antigone and Ismene : they be sure Will, from their lovely gentleness of soul, Pour for their brothers' loss their sorrows wild. Behoves us then, ere the sad tale shall reach Their ear, with meet solemnity to raise The thrilling strain, and chant the hymn of death. 2nd SEMICHOR. Unhappy in your brothers, most un- happy Of all that o'er their swelling bosoms bind 112 THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES. The decent vest, I weep, I breathe the sigh Warm from my heart, that feels for your afflictions. ANTIGONE, ISMENE, CHORUS. ist SEMICHORUS. Ah ! what frantic rage possest Each unyielding, ruthless breast, Wisdom scorned, and friends defied By threat'ning ills unterrified, 'Gainst their father's house to bear, Wretched they, the fatal spear ! 2nd SEMICHOR. Wretched they a wretched death Found their house's fall beneath, ist SEMICHOR. Each the ruined palace o'er Strove t' extend his envied power : Each unrivalled and alone Proudly strove to seize the throne. But the sword their contest ends, Not the lovely strife of friends. Hate, that never knows remorse, Fury of the father's curse, Through their sides with horrid sway Urged the sharp steel's purple way. 2nd SEMICHOR. Charged with death thou cruel curse, Each hath felt thy fatal force, ist SEMICHOR. Brother pierced by brother dies, Low their house in ruin lies. 2nd SEMICHOR. From the father's furious breath Discord rose, and rage, and death, ist SEMICHOR. Grief with wild distracted air, Through the city leads despair ; The towers on high, the vales below, Sigh the sullen notes of woe. To other lords the large domains, And the envied power remains; THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES. 113 Of the territories wide, For which they fought, for which they died, Each receives an equal share, Fiercely parted by the spear : Cruel arbiter of fate, Friends thy rude decisions hate, and SEMICHOR. Pierced with steel each finds his end : Pierced with steel they haste t' attend Their fathers, by like bloody death, In the yawning grave beneath, ist SEMICHOR. Grief that rends the tortured breast, Deep with real woes possest, Tears fast streaming from her eyes From the haunts of pleasure flies, Anguish, misery all her own, Sadly pours the hollow groan ; Whilst the ruined palace round Echo answers to the sound ; And, each frightful pause between, From her airy shell unseen, Listens to the funeral strain, Wailing the unhappy slain ; Wailing all the dreadful woes That from madding discord rose ; Many a friend among the dead, Whilst the hostile legions bleed. 2nd SEMICHOR. Far beyond each sorrowing dame, Each that bears a mother's name, Each that groans upon the earth, Hapless she that gave them birth. She, to share her bed and throne, As a husband took her son : These she bore, and this their fate, Brother slain by brother's hate. 114 THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES. ISM. Brothers they, by birth allied, Spread the mutual carnage wide : Unfriendly each to other's life, In the madding rage of strife. But their hatred is no more, On the earth, all stained with gore, Their stream of life unites, and shows From one common source it rose. CHOR. Umpire of the strife of kings, Forth the barb'rous stranger springs : Ruthless issuing from the flame O'er the seas the keen steel came. Ruthless came the realm to share, Big with mischief, wasting Avar, And accursed, without remorse, Executes a father's curse. ANT. They have the wretched share they chose, Share of heaven-appointed woes : And the rich, contested prize Deep beneath earth's bosom lies. ISM. It falls, the royal house, it falls ; Ruin lords it o'er its walls ; And the Furies howl around, Notes of shrill, soul-piercing sound. Slaughter, reeking yet with gore, Raises high each gate before, Where they fought, and where they bled, Trophies of the mighty dead ; And, the rival chiefs subdued, Ceases from her work of blood. ANT. Wounded thou gav'st the fatal wound. ISM. Dying, thy hand its vengeance found. ANT. By the spear 'twas thine to kill. ISM. And the spear's thy blood to spill. THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES, 115 ANT. Fierce thy thought, and fell thy deed. ISM. Fierce recoiled it on thy head. ANT. Flow my tears. ISM. My sorrows flow. ANT. He that slew shall lie as low. Madness mingles with my moans. ISM. Heaves my heart, and bursts with groans. ANT. Thou shalt claim the ceaseless tear. ISM. To my soul wast thou most dear. ANT. Thee thy friend stretched on the plain, ISM. And by thee thy friend is slain. ANT. Twice to see. ISM. And twice to tell. ANT. Near us do these sorrows dwell. ISM. Near us dwell these sorrows, near As to sisters brothers are. ANT. Fate, in all thy terrors clad, CEdipus, thy awful shade, Erinnys, frowning black as night, Dreadful, dreadful is your might ! ISM. Fierce from flight achieved he deeds, At which my heart with anguish bleeds. ANT. Nor is he returned that slew. ISM. Safe himself, on death he flew. ANT. Death upon himself he brought- ISM. And to him destruction wrought. ANT. Sprung from an unhappy line. ISM. In one unhappy fate they join. ANT. Mournful, threefold misery. ISM. Sad to tell. ANT. And sad to see. Fate in all thy terrors clad, CEdipus, thy awful shade, Erinnys, frowning black as night, n6 THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES. Dreadful, dreadful is your might ! Thou their power hast past, hast known. ISM. Soon this knowledge was thy own. ANT. To the town advancing near. ISM. Lifting high thy purple spear, Burning fierce with enmity. ANT. Sad to tell. ISM. And sad to see. ANT. Ah, what woes on us await ! ISM. And our house oppressed with fate ; Through the land the evils spread, Falling heaviest on my head. ANT. I th' afflicting burden share, Equal sorrow, equal care. ISM. Eteocles, from thee it flows, Author of these mournful woes. ANT. Each the gushing tear demands. ISM. Each with frenzy armed his hands. ANT. Where shall we with pious care The sepulchral earth prepare ? ISM. Where the hallowed ground shall spread Awful honours o'er the dead. ANT. Their unhappy father nigh Let the mournful ruins lie. ANTIGONE, ISMENE, CHORUS, HERALD. HERALD. My office leads me to proclaim the mandate Of the great rulers of the Theban State. Eteocles, for that he loved his country, They have decreed with honour to inter. To shield her from her foes he fought, he fell, Her sacred rites revered, unstained with blame. Where glory calls the valiant youth to bleed, THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES, He bled. Thus far of him am I bid say. Of Polynices, that his corpse shall lie Cast out unburied, to the dogs a prey ; Because his spear, had not the gods opposed, Threatened destruction to the lands of Thebes. In death the vengeance of his country's gods Pursues him, for he scorned them, and presumed To lead a foreign host, and storm the town. Be this then his reward, to lie exposed To rav'nous birds, unhonoured, of the rites That grace the dead, libations at the tomb, The solemn strain, that 'midst the exequies Breathes from the friendly voice of woe, deprived. These are the mandates of the Theban rulers. ANT. And to these Theban rulers T declare, If none besides dare bury him, myself Will djo that office, heedless of the danger, And think no shame to disobey the State, Paying the last sad duties to a brother. Nature has tender ties, and strongly joins The offspring of the same unhappy mother, And the same wretched father. In this task Shrink not, my soul, to share the ills he suffered, Involuntary ills ; and whilst life warms This breast, be bold to show a sister's love To a dead brother. Shall the famished wolves Fatten on him ? Away with such a thought. I though a woman, will prepare his tomb, Dig up the earth, and bear it in this bosom, In these fine folds to cover him. Go to. I will not be opposed. Fruitful invention Shall devise means to execute the task. HER. I charge thee not t' offend the State in this. ANT. I charge thee waste not words on me in vain. n8 THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES. HER. Rage soon inflames a people freed from danger. ANT. Inflame them thou, he shall not lie unburied. HER. Wilt thou thus grace the object of their hate? ANT. Long have they strove to load him with dis- honour. HER. Not till he shook this land with hostile arms. ANT. Great were his wrongs, and greatly he revenged them. HER. Injured by one, his vengeance burst on all. ANT. Discord, the meanest of the gods, will do What she resolves ; spare then thy tedious speech, And be assured that I will bury him. HER. Self-willed, and unadvised ! I must declare this. ANTIGONE, ISMENE, CHORUS. ist SEMICHORUS. With what a ruthless and destructive rage The Furies hurl their vengeful shafts around, And desolate the house of QEdipus ! What then remains for me ? and how resolve ? Can I forbear to mourn thee, to attend thee To the sad tomb ? Yet duty to the State, And reverence to its mandates, awes my soul. Thou shalt have many to lament thy fall : Whilst he, unwept, unpitied, unattended, Save by a sister's solitary sorrows, Sinks to the shades. Approve you this resolve ? 2nd SEMICHOR. To those that wail the fate of Poly- nices, Let the State act its pleasure. We will go Attend his funeral rites, and aid his sister To place him in the earth. Such sorrows move The common feelings of humanity ; And, where the deed is just, the State approves it. THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES. 119 ist SEMICHOR. And we with him, as justice and the State Concur to call us. Next th' immortal gods, And Jove's high power, this valiant youth camt forth The guardian of his country, and repelled Th' assault of foreign foes, whose raging force Rushed like a torrent threat'ning to o'erwhelm us. AGAMEMNON. IN this tragedy the reader will find the strongest traces of the genius of JEschylus, and the most distinguishing proofs of his skill. Great in his conceptions, bold and daring in his metaphors, strong in his passions, he here touches the heart with uncommon emotions. The odes are particularly sublime, and the oracular spirit that breathes through them, adds a wonderful elevation and dignity to them. Short as the part of Agamemnon is, the poet has the address to throw such an amiable dignity around him that we soon become interested in his favour, and are predisposed to lament his fate. The character of Clytemnestra is finely marked ; a high-spirited, artful, close, determined, dan- gerous woman. But the poet has nowhere exerted such efforts of his genius, as in the scene where Cassandra appears : as a prophetess, she gives every mark of the divine inspiration, from the dark and distant hint, through all the noble imagery of the prophetic enthusiasm ; till, as the catastrophe advances, she more and more plainly declares it: as a suffering princess, her grief is plaintive, lively, and piercing ; yet she goes to meet her death, which she clearly foretells, with a firmness worthy the daughter of Priam and the sister of Hector : nothing can be more animated or more interesting than this scene. The conduct 122 A GAMEMNON. of the poet through this play is exquisitely judicious ; every scene gives us some obscure hint, or ominous presage, enough to keep our attention always raised, and to prepare us for the event ; even the studied caution of Clytemnestra is finely managed to produce that effect ; whilst the secrecy with which she conducts her design, keeps us in suspense, and prevents a discovery till we hear the dying groans of her murdered husband. It is to be lamented that a late amiable poet, in his tragedy on this subject, which, too, he wished to have esteemed as classical, should have deviated so far from his great original, particularly in the character of Clytemnestra : but as he wanted strength of genius to imitate the noble simplicity of ^Eschylus, his taste led him to take Seneca for his model, and he has succeeded accordingly. The scene of this play is at Argos, before the palace of Agamemnon. PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. WATCHMAN. CLYTEMNESTRA. HERALD. AGAMEMNON. CASSANDRA. CHORUS OF ARGIVE SENATORS. THE WATCHMAN. YE fav'ring gods, relieve me from this toil : Fixed, as a dog, on Agamemnon's roof I watch the live-long year, observing hence The host of stars^ that in the spangled skies Take their bright stations, and to mbrtals bring Winter and summer ; radiant rulers, when They set, or rising, glitter through the night. AGAMEMNON. 123 Here now I watch, if haply I may see The blazing torch, whose flame bring news from Troy, The signal of its ruin : these high hopes My royal mistress, thinking on her lord Feeds in her heart. Meanwhile the dews of night Fall on my couch, unvisited by dreams ; For fear, lest sleep should close my eyes, repels The soft intruder. When my spirits prompt me To raise the song, or hum the sullen notes Preventing slumber, then I sigh, and wail The state of this unhappy house, no more Well-ordered as of old. But may my toils Be happily relieved ! Blaze, thou bright flame, Herald of joy, blaze through the gloomy shades And it does blaze. Hail, thou auspicious flame, That streaming through the night denouncest joy, Welcomed with many a festal dance in Argos ! In the queen's ear I'll holloa this, and rouse her From her soft couch with speed, that she may teach The royal dome to echo with the strains Of choral warblings greeting this blest fire, Bright sign that Troy is taken. Nor shall I Forbear the prelude to the dance before her : For by this watch, so prosperously concluded, I to my masters shall assure good fortune. Shall I then see my king returned, once more To grace this house ? and shall this hand once more Hang on his friendly hand ? I could unfold A tale. But, hush ; my tongue is chained : these walls, Could they but speak, would make discoveries. There are who know this ; and to them this hint Were plain : to those, that know it not, mysterious. CHOR. The tenth slow year rolls on, since great in arms The noble sons of Atreus, each exalted 124 AGAMEMNON. To majesty and empire, royal brothers, Led hence a thousand ships, the Argive fleet, Big with the fate of Priam and of Troy j A warlike preparation ; their bold breasts Breathing heroic ardour to high deeds ; Like vultures, which, their unplumed offspring lost, Whirl many a rapid flight, for that their toil To guard their young was vain : till some high power, For they are dear to Phcebus, dear to Pan, And Jove, with pity hears their shrill-voiced grief, And sends, though late, the fury to avenge Their plundered nests on the unpitying spoilers. So now the power of hospitable Jove Arms against Paris, for th' oft-wedded dame, The sons of Atreus, bent to plunge the hosts Of Greece and Troy in all the toils, that sink The body down, the firm knee bowed in dust, And the strong spear, ere conquest crowns their helms, Shivered in battle. These are what they are, And fate directs th' event : nor the bent knee, Libation pure, or supplicating tear, Can soothe the stern rage of those merciless powers In whose cold shrine no hallowed flame ascends. But we, our age-enfeebled limbs unfit For martial toils, inglorious here remain, The staff supporting our weak steps, like children : For as the infant years have not attained The military vigour, withered age Crawls through the streets like helpless infancy, And passes as a day-dream. But what tidings, What circumstances of fair event hath reached Thy royal ears, daughter of Tyndarus, Inducing thee to send the victims round ? The shrines of all the gods, whose guardian cares AGAMEMNON. Watch o'er this State, be they enthroned in heaven, Or rule beneath the earth, blaze with thy presents ; And from th' imperial dome a lengthened line Of torches shoot their lustre to the skies. O tell me what is fit for me to know, And prudence suffers to be told : speak peace To this anxiety, which one while swells Presaging ill, and one while from the victims Catches a gleam of hope, whose cheering ray Breaks through the gloom that darkens o'er my soul. Strophe. It swells upon my soul : I feel the power To hail th' auspicious hour, When, their brave hosts marching in firm array, The heroes led the way. The fire of youth glows in each vein, And heaven-born confidence inspires the strain. Pleased the omen to record, That to Troy's ill-fated strand Led each monarch, mighty lord, Led the bold confederate band, The strong spear quiv'ring in their vengeful hand. Full in each royal chieftain's view, A royal eagle whirls his flight ; In plumage one of dusky hue, And one his dark wings edged with white ; Swift to th' imperial mansion take their way, And in their armed talons bear, Seized in its flight, a pregnant hare, And in those splendid seats enjoy their prey. Sound high the strain, the swelling notes prolong, Till conquest listens to the raptured song. 126 AGAMEMNON. Antistrophe. The venerable seer, whose skill divine Knows what the Fates design, On each bold chief, that for the battle burns, His glowing eyeball turns ; And thus in high prophetic strains The rav'ning eagles and their prey explains : " Priam's haughty town shall fall, Slow they roll, the destined hours, Fate and fury shake her wall, Vengeance wide the ruin pours, And conquest seizes all her treasured stores. Ah, may no storm from th' angry sky Burst dreadful o'er this martial train, Nor check their ardour, flaming high To pour the war o'er Troy's proud plain ! Wrath kindles in the chaste Diana's breast : Gorged with the pregnant mother's blood, . And, ere the birth, her hapless brood, Hell-hounds of Jove, she hates your horrid feast. Sound high the strain, the swelling notes prolong, Till conquest listens to the raptured song. Epode. "The virgin goddess of the chase, Fair from the spangled dew-drops that adorn The breathing flowrets of the morn, Protectress of the infant race Of all that haunt the tangled grove, Or o'er the rugged mountains rove, She, beauteous queen, commands me to declare What by the royal birds is shown, Signal of conquest, omen fair, AGAMEMNON. 127 But darkened by her awful frown. God of the distant-wounding bow, Thee, Psean, thee I call; hear us, and aid; Ah ! may not the offended maid Give the sullen gales to blow, Adverse to this eager train, And bar th' unnavigable main ; Nor other sacrifice demand, At whose barbaric rites no feast is spread ; But discord rears her horrid head, And calls around her murd'rous band : Leagued with hate, and fraud, and fear, Nor king, nor husband, they revere ; Indignant o'er a daughter weep, And burn to stamp their vengeance deep ? " Prophetic thus the reverend Chalcas spoke, Marking th' imperial eagles' whirling wings ; From his rapt lips the joyful presage broke, Success and glory to th' embattled kings. Sound high the strain, th' according notes prolong, Till conquest listens to the raptured song. Strophe i. O thou, that sitt'st supreme above, Whatever name thou deign'st to hear, Unblamed may I pronounce thee Jove '. Immersed in deep and holy thought, If rightly I conjecture aught, Thy power I must revere t Else vainly tossed the anxious mind Nor truth, nor calm repose, can find. Feeble and helpless to the light The- proudest of man's race arose, 1 2 8 AGAMEMNON. Though now, exulting in his might, Dauntless he rushes on his foes ; Great as he is, in dust he lies ; He meets a greater, and he dies. Antistrophe i. He that, when conquest brightens round, Swells the triumphal strain to Jove, Shall ever with success be crowned. Yet often, when to wisdom's seat Jove deigns to guide man's erring feet, His virtues to improve ; He to affliction gives command To form him with her chastening hand : The memory of her rigid lore, On the sad heart imprinted deep, Attends him through day's active hour, Nor in the night forsakes his sleep. Instructed thus thy grace we own, O thou, that sittest on Heaven's high throne ! Strophe 2. When now in Aulis' rolling bay . His course the refluent floods refused, And sickening with inaction lay In dead repose th' exhausted train, Did the firm chief of chance complain ? No prophet he accused ; His eyes towards Chalcis bent he stood, And silent marked the surging flood. Sullen the winds from Strymon sweep, Mischance and famine in the blast. Ceaseless torment the angry deep, The cordage rend, the vessels waste, AGAMEMNON. 129 With tedious and severe delay Wear the fresh flower of Greece away. Antistrophe 2. When, in Diana's name, the seer Pronounced the dreadful remedy More than the stormy sea severe, Each chieftain stood in grief profound, And smote his sceptre on the ground : Then with a rising sigh The monarch, whilst the big tears roll, Expressed the anguish of his soul : " Dreadful the sentence : not t' obey, Vengeance and tuin close us round : Shall then the sire his daughter slay, In youth's fresh bloom with beauty crowned? Shall on these hands her warm blood flow ? Cruel alternative of woe ! Strophe 3. " This royal fleet, this martial host, The cause of Greece, shall I betray, The monarch in the father lost ? To calm these winds, to smooth this flood, Diana's wrath a virgin's blood Demands : 'tis ours t' obey." Bound in necessity's iron chain Reluctant nature strives in vain : Impure, unholy thoughts succeed, And darkening o'er his bosom roll ; Whilst madness prompts the ruthless deed, Tyrant of the misguided soul : Stern on the fleet he rolls his eyes, And dooms the hateful sacrifice. E 1 3 o AGAMEMNON. Antislrophe 3. Armed in a woman's cause, around Fierce for the war the princes rose ; No place affrighted pity found. In vain the virgin's streaming tear, Her cries in vain, her pleading prayer, Her agonizing woes. Could the fond father hear unmoved ? The Fates decreed : the king approved : Then to th' attendants gave command Decent her flowing robes to bind ; Prone on the altar with strong hand To place her, like a spotless hind ; And check her sweet voice, that no sound Unhallowed might the rites confound. Epode. Rent on the earth her maiden veil she throws, That emulates the rose ; And on the sad attendants rolling The trembling lustre of her dewy eyes, Their grief-impassioned souls controlling, That ennobled, modest grace, Which the mimic pencil tries In the imaged form to trace, The breathing picture shows : And as, amidst his festal pleasures, Her father oft rejoiced to hear Her voice in soft mellifluous measures Warble the sprightly-fancied air ; So now in act to speak the virgin stands : But when, the third libation paid, She heard her lather's dread commands Enjoining silence, she obeyed : AGAMEMNON. 131 And for her country's good, With patient, meek, submissive mind To her hard fate resigned, Poured out the rich stream of her blood. What since hath past I know not, nor relate ; But never did the prophet speak in vain, Th' afflicted, anxious for his future fate, Looks forward, and with hope relieves his pain. But since th' inevitable ill will come, Much knowledge to much misery is allied ; Why strive we then t' anticipate the doom, Which happiness and wisdom wish to hide ? Yet let fhis careful, age -enfeebled band Breathe from our inmost soul one ardent vow, Now the sole guardians of this Apian land, " May fair success with glory bind her brow ! " CLYTEMNESTRA, CHORUS. CHORUS, With reverence, Clytemnestra, I approach Thy greatness ; honour due to her that fills The royal seat, yet vacant of its lord. If aught of glad import hath reached thy ear. Or to fair hope the victim bleeds, I wish, But with submission to thy will, to hear. CLY. The joy-importing Morn springs, as they say, From Night, her mother. Thou shall hear a joy Beyond thy hopes to hear : the town of Priam Is fallen beneath the conquering arms of Greece. CHOR. What saidst thou ? Passing credence fled thy word. CLY. In Troy Greece triumphs. Speak 1 clearly ROW? E ! 132 AGAMEMNON. CHOR. Joy steals upon me, and calls forth the tear. CLY. Thy glist'ning eye bespeaks an honest heart. CHOR. Does aught of certain proof confirm these tid- ings? CLY. It does. Why not ? unless the gods deceive us. CHOR. Perchance the visions of persuasive dreams. CLY. Sport of the slumbering soul; they move not mi. CHOR. Hath then some winged rumour spread the; ; e transports ? CLY. As a raw girl's, thou holdest my judgment cheap. CHOR. How long hath ruin crushed this haughty city ? CLY. This night, that gave this infant morning birth. CHOR. What speed could be the herald of this news? CLY. The fire, that from the height of Ida sent Its streaming light, as from th' announcing flame Torch blazed to torch. First Ida to the steep Of Lemnos ; Athos' sacred height received The mighty splendour ; from the surging back Of the Hellespont the vigorous blaze held on Its smiling way, and like the orient sun Illumes with golden-gleaming rays the head Of rocky Macetas ; nor lingers there, Nor winks unheedful, but its warning flames Darts to the streams of Euripus, and gives Its glittering signal to the guards that hold Their high watch on Mesapius. These enkindle The joy-denouncing fires, that spread the blaze To where Erica hoar its shaggy brow Waves rudely. Unimpaired the active flame Bounds o'er the level of Asopus, like The jocund moon, and on Cithseron's steep Wakes a successive flame ; the distant watch Agnize its shine, and raise a brighter fire, That o'er the lake Gorgopis streaming holds AGAMEMNON. 133 Its rapid course, and on the mountainous heights Of yEgiplanctus huge, swift- shooting spreads The lengthened line of light. Thence onwards waves Its fiery tresses, eager to ascend The crags of Prone, frowning in their pride O'er the Saronic gulf : it leaps, it mounts The summit of Arachne, whose high head Looks down on Argos : to this royal seat Thence darts the light that from th' Jdsean fire Derives its birth. Rightly in order thus Each to the next consigns the torch, and fills The bright succession, whilst the first in speed Vies with the last : the promised signal this Given by my lord t' announce the fall of Troy. CHOR. Anon my grateful praise shall rise to Heaven : Now, lady, would I willingly attend Through each glad circumstance the wond'rous tale. CLY. This day the conquering Greeks are lords of Troy. Methinks I hear the various clamours rise Discordant through the city. Pour thou oil In the same vase and vinegar, in vain Wouldst thou persuade th' unsocial streams to mix : The captives' and the conqueror's voice distinct, Marks of their different fortune, mayst thou hear : Those rolling on the bodies of the slain, Friends, husbands, brothers, fathers ; the weak arms Of children clasped around the bleeding limbs Qf hoary age, lament their fall, their necks Bent to the yoke of slavery : eager these From the fierce toils of war, who through the gloom Of night ranged wide, fly on the spoils, as chance, Not order, leads them ; in the Trojan houses, Won by their spears, they walk at large, relieved From the cold dews dropt from th' unsheltered sky ; 134 AGAMEMNON. And at th' approach of eve, like those whose power Commands security, the easy night Shall sleep unguarded. If with hallowed rites They venerate the gods that o'er the city, With those that o'er the vanquished country tule, And reverence their shrines, the conquering troops Shall not be conquered. May no base desire, No guilty wish urge them, enthralled to gain, To break through sacred laws. Behoves them now, With safety in their train, backward to plough The refluent wave. Should they return exposed To th' anger of the gods, vengeance would wake To seize its prey, might they perchance escape Life's incidental ills. From me thou nearest A woman's sentiment ; and much I wish, Their glories by no rude mischance depressed, To cull from many blessings the most precious. CHOR. With manly sentiment thy wisdom, lady, Speaks well. Confiding in thy suasive signs, Prepare we to address the gods ; our strains Shall not without their meed of honour rise. Prosode. Supreme of kings, Jove ; and thou, friendly night, That wide o'er Heaven's star-spangled plain Holdest thy awful reign, Thou, that with resistless might O'er Troy's proud towers, and destined state, Hast thrown the secret net of fate, In whose enormous sweep the young, the old, Without distinction rolled, Are with unsparing fury dragged away To slavery and woe a prey : Thee, hospitable Jove, whose vengeful power . AGAMEMNON. 135 These terrors o'er the foe has spread, Thy bow long bent at Paris' head, Whose arrows know their time to fly, Not hurtling aimless in the sky, Our pious strains adore. Strophe i. The hand of Jove will they not own j And, as his marks they trace, Confess he willed, and it was done ? Who now of earth-born race Shall dare contend that his high power Deigns not with eye severeto view The wretch that tramples on his law ? Hence with this impious lore : Learn that the sons accursed shall rue The madly daring father's pride, That furious drew th' unrighteous sword, High in his house the rich spoils stored, . And the avenging gods defied. But be it mine to draw From wisdom's fount, pure as it flows, That calm of soul which virtue only knows. For vain the shield that wealth shall spread, To guard the proud oppressor's head, Who dares the rites of justice to confound, And spurn her altars to the ground. Antistrophe t. But suasive is the voice of vice, That spreads th' insidious snare ; She, not concealed, through her disguise Emits a livid glare. 136 AGAMEMNON. Her votary, like adult'rate brass Unfaithful to its use, unsound, Proves the dark baseness of his soul ; Fond as a boy to chase The winged bird light-flitting round, And bent on his pernicious play Draws desolation on his state. His vows no god regards, when fate In vengeance sweeps the wretch away. With base intent and foul, Each hospitable law defied, From Sparta's king thus Paris stole his bride. To Greece she left the shield, the spear, The naval armament of war ; And, bold in ill, to Troy's devoted shore Destruction for her dowry bore. Strophe 2. When through the gates her easy way She took, his pensive breast Each prophet smote in deep dismay, And thus his grief exprest : " What woes this royal mansion threat, This mansion, and its mighty lord? Where now the chaste connubial bed ? The traces of her feet, By love to her blest consort led, Where now ? Ah ! silent, see, she stands ; Each glowing tint, each radiant grace, That charm th' enraptured eye, we trace ; And still the blooming form commands, Still honoured, still adored, Though careless of her former loves Far o'er the rolling sea the wanton roves ; AGAMEMNON. 137 The husband, with a bursting sigh, Turns from the pictured fair his eye ; Whilst love, by absence fed, without control Tumultuous rushes on his soul. Antistrophe 2. " Oft as short slumbers close his eyes, His sad soul soothed to rest, The dream-created visions rise, With all her charms imprest : But vain th* ideal scene, that smiles With rapturous love and warm delight ; Vain his fond hopes : his eager arms The fleeting form beguiles, On sleep's quick pinions passing light." Such griefs, and more severe than these, Their sad gloom o'er the palace spread ; Thence stretch their melancholy shade, And darken o'er the realms of Greece. Struck with no false alarms Each house its home-felt sorrow knows, Each bleeding heart is pierced with keenest woes ; When for the hero, sent to share The glories of the crimson war, Nought, save his arms stained with their master's gore, And his cold ashes reach the shore. Strophe 3. Thus in the dire exchange of war Does Mars the balance hold ; Helms are the scale, the beam a spear, And blood is weighed for gold. Thus, for the warrior, to his friends His sad remains, a poor return, 138 AGAMEMNON. Saved from the sullen fire that rose On Troy's cursed shore, he sends, Placed decent in the mournful urn. With many a tear their dead they weep, Their names with many a praise resound ; One for his skill in arms renowned ; One, that amidst the slaughtered heap Of fierce-conflicting foes Glorious in beauty's cause he fell : Yet 'gainst th' avenging chiefs their murmurs swell In silence. Some in youth's fresh bloom Beneath Troy's towers possess a tomb ; Their bodies buried on the distant strand, Seizing in death the hostile land. Anti strophe 3. How dreadful, when the people raise Loud murmurs mixed with hate ! Yet this the tribute greatness pays For its exalted state. E'en now some dark and horrid deed By my presaging soul is feared ; For never with unheedful eyes, When slaughtered thousands bleed, Did the just powers of Heaven regard The carnage of th' ensanguined plain. The ruthless and oppressive power May triumph for its little hour ; Full soon with all their vengeful train The sullen Furies rise, Break his fell force, and whirl him down Through life's dark paths, unpitied, and unknown. And dangerous is the pride of fame, Like the red lightning's dazzling flame. AGAMEMNON. 139 Nor envied wealth, nor conquest let me gain, Nor drag the conqueror's hateful chain. Epode. But from these fires far streaming through the night Fame through the town her progress takes, And rapt'rous joy awakes ; If with truth's auspicious light They shine, who knows ? Her sacred reign Nor fraud, nor falsehood, dares profane. But who, in. wisdom's school so lightly taught, Suffers his ardent thought From these informing flames to catch the fire, Full soon perchance in grief t' expire ? Yet when a woman holds the sovereign sway, Obsequious wisdom learns to bow, And hails the joy it does not know ; Though, as the glitt'ring visions roll Before her easy, credulous soul, Their glories fade away. CLY. Whether these fires, that with successive signals Blaze through the night, be true, or like a dream Play with a sweet delusion on the soul, Soon shall we know. A herald from the shore I see ; branches of olive shade his brows, That cloud of dust, raised by his speed, assures me That neither speechless, nor enkindling flames Along the mountains, will he signify His message ; but his tongue shall greet our ears With words of joy : far from my soul the thought Of other, than confirm these fav'ring signals. CHOR. May he, that to this State shall form a wish Of other aim, on his own head receive it. 1 4 o AGAMEMNON. CLYTEMNESTRA, CHORUS, HERALD. HERALD. Hail, thou paternal soil of Argive earth ! In the fair light of the tenth year to thee Returned, from the sad wreck of many hopes This one I save ; saved from despair e'en this ; For never thought I in this honoured earth To share in death the portion of a tomb. Hail then, loved earth ; hail, thou bright sun ; and thou, Great guardian of my country, supreme Jove ; Thou, Pythian king, thy shafts no longer winged For our destruction ; on Scamander's banks Enough we mourned thy wrath ; propitious now Come, king Apollo, our defence. And all Ye gods, that o'er the works of war preside, I now invoke ; thee, Mercury, my avenger, Revered by heralds, that from thee derive Their high employ ; you heroes, to the war That sent us, friendly now receive our troops, The relics of the spear. Imperial walls, Mansion of kings, ye seats revered ; ye gods, That to the golden sun before these gates Present your honoured forms ; if e'er of old These eyes with favour have beheld the king, Receive him now, after this length of time, With glory ; for he comes, and with him brings To you, and all, a light that cheers this gloom : Then greet him well ; such honour is his meed. Tha mighty king, that with the mace of Jove Th' avenger, wherewith he subdues the earth, Hath levelled with the dust the towers of Troy ; Their altars are o'erturned, their sacred shrines, And all the race destroyed. This iron yoke Fixed on the neck of Troy, victorious comes AGAMEMNON. 14* The great Atrides, of all mortal men Worthy of highest honours. Paris now, And the perfidious State, shall boast no more His proud deeds unrevenged ; stript of his spoils, The debt of justice for his thefts, his rapines, Paid amply, o'er his father's house he spreads With twofold loss the wide-involving ruin. CLY. Joy to thee, herald of the Argive host. HER. For joy like this death were a cheap exchange. CLY. Strong thy affection to thy native soil. HER. So strong, the tear of joy starts from my eye. CLY. What, hath this sweet infection reached e'en you ? HER. Beyond the power of language have I felt it. CLY. The fond desire of those, whose equal love HER. This of the army say'st thou, whose warm love Streams to this land ? Is this thy fond desire ? CLY. Such that I oft have breathed the secret sigh. HER. Whence did the army cause this anxious sadness? CLY. Silence I long have held a healing balm. HER. The princes absent, hadst thou whom to fear ? CLY. To use thy words, death were a wished exchange. HER. Well is the conflict ended. In the tide Of so long time, if 'midst the easy flow Of wished events some tyrannous blast assail us, What marvel ? Who, save the blest gods, can claim Through life's whole course an unmixed happiness ? Should I relate our toils, our wretched plight Wedged in our narrow ill-provided cabins, Each irksome hour was loaded with fatigues. Yet these were slight assays to those worse hardships We suffered on the shore : our lodging near The walls of the enemy, the dews of heaven Fell on us from above, the damps beneath From the moist marsh annoyed us, shrouded ill I4ft AGAMEMNON. In shaggy cov'rings. Or should one relate The winter's keen blasts, which from Ida's snows Breathe frore, that, pierced through all their plumes, the birds Shiver and die ; or th' extreme heat that scalds, When in his midday caves the sea reclines, And not a breeze disturbs his calm repose. But why lament these sufferings ? They are past ; Past to the dead indeed : they lie, no more Anxious to rise. What then, avails to count Those whom the wasteful war hath swept away, And with their loss afflict the living ? Rather Bid we farewell to misery : in our scale, Who haply of the Grecian host remain, The good preponderates, and in counterpoise Our loss is light ; and, after all our toils By sea and land, before yon golden sun It is our glorious privilege to boast, " At length from vanquished Troy our warlike troops Have to the gods of Greece brought home these spoils, And in their temples, to record our conquests, Fixed these proud trophies." Those that hear this boast It well becomes to gratulate the State, And the brave chiefs ; revering Jove's high power That grace our conquering arms. Thou hast my message. CHOR. Thy words convince me ; all my doubts are vanished : But scrupulous inquiry grows with age. On Clytemnestra and her house this charge, Blessing e'en me with the rich joy, devolves. CLY. Long since my voice raised high each note of joy, When through the night the streaming blaze first came, And told us Troy was taken : not unblamed AGAMEMNON. 143 That, as a woman lightly credulous, I let a mountain fire transport my soul With the fond hope that Ilion's haughty towers Were humbled in the dust. At this rebuke, Though somewhat shaken, yet I sacrificed ; And, as weak woman wont, one voice of joy Awoke another, till the city rang Through all its streets ; and at the hallowed shrines Each raised the pious strains of gratitude, And fanned the altar's incense-breathing llame. But it is needless to detain thee longer, Soon from the king's own lips shall I learn all. How best I may receive my honoured lord, And grace his wished return, now claims my speed. Can Heaven's fair beam show a fond wife a sight More grateful than her husband from his wars Returned with glory, when she opes the gate, And springs to welcome him ? Tell my lord this. That he may hasten his desired return : And tell him he will find his faithful wife, Such as he left her, a domestic creature, To him all fondness, to his enemies Irreconcilable ; and tell him too That ten long years have not effaced the seal Of constancy ; that never knew I pleasure In the blamed converse of another man, More than the virgin metal in the mines Knows an adulterate and debasing mixture. HER. This high boast, lady, sanctified by truth, Is not unseemly in thy princely rank. HERALD, CHORUS. CHORUS. This, for thy information, hath she spoken With dignity and truth. Now tell me. herald. 144 AG A MEM ft ON. Of Sparta's king wish I to question thee, The pride of Greece : returns he safe with you ? HER. Never can I esteem a falsehood honest, Though my friends long enjoy the sweet delusion. CHOR. What then if thou relate an honest truth ^ From this distinction the conjecture's easy. HER. Him from the Grecian fleet our eyes have lost, The hero and his ship. This is the truth. CHOR. Chanced this when in your sight he weighed from Or in a storm that rent him from the fleet ? [Troy ; HER. Rightly is thy conjecture aimed, in brief Touching the long recital of our loss. CHOR. How deemed the other mariners of this ; That the ship perished or rode out the storm ? HER. Who, save yon sun, the regent of the earth, Can give a clear and certain information ? CHOR. How saidst thou then a storm, not without loss, Winged with Heaven's fury, tossed the shattered fleet ? HER. It is not meet, with inauspicious tongue Spreading ill tidings, to profane a day Sacred to festal joy : the gods require Their pure rites undisturbed. When with a brow Witness of woe, the messenger relates Unwelcome news, defeats, and slaughtered armies, The wound with general grief affects the State ; And with particular and private sorrow Full many a house, for many that have fall'n Victims to Mars, who to his bloody car Delights to yoke his terrors, sword and spear. A paean to the Furies would become The bearer of such pond'rous heap of ills. My tidings are of conquest and success, Diffusing joy : with these glad sounds how mix Distress, and speak of storm and angry gods ? AGAMEMNON. 145 The powers, before most hostile, now conspired, Fire and the sea, in ruin reconciled : And in a night of tempest wild from Thrace In all their fury rushed the howling winds ; Tossed by the forceful blasts ship against ship In hideous conflict dashed, or disappeared, Driven at the boist'rous whirlwind's dreadful will ; But when the sun's fair light returned, we see Bodies of Grecians, and the wreck of ships Float on the chafed foam of th' ./Egean sea. Us and our ship some god, the power of man Were all too weak holding the helm preserved Unhurt, or interceding for our safety ; And fortune, the deliverer, steered our course To shun the waves, that near the harbour's mouth Boil high, or break upon the rocky shore. Escaped th' engulfing sea, yet scarce secure Of our escape, through the fair day we view With sighs the recent sufferings of the host, Cov'ring the sea with wrecks. If any breathe This vital air, they deem us lost, as we Think the same ruin theirs. Fair fall th' event ! But first and chief expect the Spartan king T' arrive ; if yet one ray of yon bright sun Beholds him living, through the care of Jove, Who wills not to destroy that royal race, Well may we hope to joy in his return. Having heard this, know thou hast heard the truth, CHORUS. Strophe i. Is there to names a charm profound Expressive of their fates assigned. Mysterious potency of sound, 146 AGAMEMNON. And truth in wondrous accord joined ? Why else this fatal name, That Helen and destruction are the same ? Affianced in contention, led, The spear her dowry, to the bridal bed ; With desolation in her train, Fatal to martial hosts, to rampired towers. From the rich fragrance of her gorgeous bowers, Descending to the main, She hastes to spread her flying sails, And calls the earth-born zephyr's gales, Whilst heroes, breathing vengeance, snatch their shields, And trace her light oars o'er the pathless waves, To the thick shades fresh waving o'er those fields, Which Simois with his silver windings laves. Antistrophe r. To Troy the shining mischief came ; Before her, young-eyed pleasures play j But in the rear with steadfast aim Grim-visaged vengeance marks his prey, Waiting the dreadful hour The terrors of offended Heaven to pour On those that dared, an impious train, The rites of hospitable Jove profane ; Nor revered that sacred song, Whose melting strains the bride's approach declare. As Hymen wakes the rapture breathing air. Far other noies belong, The voice of mirth now heard no more,, To Priam's State ; its ruins o'er Wailing instead, distress, and loud lament ; Long sorrows sprung from that unholy bed, AGAMEMNON. And many a curse in heart-felt anguish sent On its woe-wedded Paris' hated head. Strophe 2. The woodman, from his thirsty lair, Reft of his dam, a lion bore ; Fostered his future foe with care To mischiefs he must soon deplore : Gentle and tame, whilst young, Harmless he frisked the fondling babes among ; Oft in the father's bosom lay, Oft licked his feeding hand in fawning play ; Till, conscious of his firmer age, His lion-race the lordly savage shows ; No more his youth-protecting cottage knows, But with insatiate rage Flies on the flocks, a baleful guest, And riots in th' unbidden feast : Whilst through his mangled folds the hapless swain With horror sees th' unbounded carnage spread ; And learns too late that from th' infernal reign A priest of Ate" in his house was bred. Antistrophe 2. To I lion's towers in wanton state With speed she wings her easy way ; Soft gales obedient round her wait, And pant on the delighted sea. Attendant on her side The richest ornaments of splendid pride : The darts, whose golden points inspire, Shot from her eyes the flames of soft desire ; The youthful bloom of rosy love, '47 148 AGAMEMNON. That fills with ecstasy the willing soul: With duteous zeal obey her sweet control. But, such the doom of Jove, Vindictive round her nuptial bed, With threat'ning mien and fooistep dread, Rushes to Priam and his State severe, To rend the bleeding heart his stern delight, And from the bridal eye to force the tear, Erinnys, rising from the realms of night. Epode. From ev'ry mouth we oft have hear/I This saying, for its age revered : " With joy we see our offspring rise, And happy, who not childless dies : But fortune, when her flow'rets blow, Oft bears the bitter fruit of woe." Though these saws are as truths allowed, Thus I dare differ from the crowd : " One base deed, with prolific power, Like its cursed stock engenders more : But to the just, with blooming grace Still flourishes, a beauteous race." The old Injustice joys to breed Her young, instinct with villanous deed ; The young her destined hour will find To rush in mischief on mankind : She too in Ate's murky cell, Brings forth the hideous child of hell, A burden to th' offended sky, The power of bold impiety. But Justice bids her ray divine E'en on the low- roofed cottage shine ; A GA MfcMNON. \ 49 And beams her glories on the life, That knows not fraud, nor ruffian strife. The gorgeous glare of gold, obtained By foul polluted hands, disdained She leaves, and with averted eyes To humbler, holier mansions flies ; And looking through the times to come Assigns each deed its righteous doom. CHORUS, AGAMEMNON. CHORUS. My royal lord, by whose victorious hard The towers of Troy are fall'n, illustrious son Of Atreus, with what words, what reverence Shall I address thee, not t' o'erleap the bounds Of modest duty, nor to sink beneath An honourable welcome ? Some there are, That form themselves to seem, more than to be, Transgressing honesty : to him that feels Misfortune's rugged hand, full many a tongue Shall drop condolence, though th' unfeeling heart Knows not the touch of sorrow ; these again In fortune's summer gale, with the like art, Shall dress in forced smiles th' unwilling face : But him the penetrating eye soon marks, That in the seemly garb of honest zeal Attempts to clothe his meagre blandishments. When first in Helen's cause my royal lord Levied his host, let me not hide the truth, Notes, other than of music, echoed wide In loud complaints from such as deemed him rash, And void of reason, by constraint to plant In breast averse the martial soul, that glows Despising death. But now their eager zeal Streams friendly to those chiefs, whose prosp'rous valour 1 5 o AGAMEMNON. Is crowned with conquest. Soon then shall them learn, As each supports the State, or strives to rend it With faction, who reveres thy dignity. AGA. To Argos first, and to my country gods, I bow with reverence, by whose holy guidance On Troy's proud towers I poured their righteous vengeance, And now revisit safe my native soil. No loud-tongued pleader heard, they judged the cause, And in the bloody urn, without one vote Dissentient, cast the lots that fixed the fate Of Ilion and its sons : the other vase Left empty, save of widowed hope. The smoke, Rolling in dusky wreaths, shows that the town Is fall'n ; the fiery storm yet lives, and high The dying ashes toss rich clouds of wealth Consumed. For this behoves us to the gods Render our grateful thanks, and that they spread The net of fate sweeping with angry ruin. In beauty's cause the Argive monster reared Its bulk enormous, to th' affrighted town Portending devastation ; in its womb Hiding embattled hosts, rushed furious forth, About the setting of the Pleiades, And, as a lion rav'ning for its prey, Ramped o'er their walls, and lapped the blood of kings. This to the gods addressed, I turn me now Attentive to thy caution : I approve Thy just remark, and with my voice confirm it. Few have the fortitude of soul to honour A friend's success, without a touch of envy ; For that malignant passion to the heart Cleaves close, and with a double burden loads The man infected with it ; first he feels In all their weight his own calamities, AGAMEMNON. 151 Then sighs to see the happiness of others. This of my own experience have I learned ; And this I know, that many, who in public Have borne the semblance of my firmest friends, Are but the flatt'ring image of a shadow Reflected from a mirror ; save Ulysses Alone, who, though averse to join our arms Yoked in his martial harness from my side Swerved not ; living or dead be this his praise. But what concerns our kingdom and the gods, Holding a general council of the State, We will consult ; that what is well may keep Its goodness permanent, and what requires Our healing hand, with mild severity May be corrected. But my royal roof Now will I visit, and before its hearths Offer libations to the gods, who sent me To this far distant war, and led me back. Firm stands the victory that attends our arms. CLYTEMNESTRA, AGAMEMNON, CHORUS. CLYTEMNESTRA. Friends, fellow-citizens, whose counsels The State of Argos, in your reverend presence [guide A wife's fond love I blush not to disclose : Thus habit softens dread. From my full heart Will I recount my melancholy life Through the long stay of my loved lord at Troy : For a weak woman, in her husband's absence, Pensive to sit and lonely in her house, 'Tis dismal, list'ning to each frightful tale : First one alarms her, then another comes Charged with worse tidings. Had my poor lord here Suffered as many wounds as common fame Reported, like a net, he had been pierced ; T52 AGAMEMNON. Had he been slain oft as the loud-tongued rumour Was noised abroad, this triple-formed Geryon, A second of the name, whilst yet alive, For of the dead I speak not, well might boast To have received his triple mail, to die In each form singly. Such reports oppressed me, Till life became distasteful, and my hands Were prompted oft to deeds of desperation. Nor is thy son Orestes, the dear tie That binds us each to th' other, present here To aid me, as he ought : nay, marvel not, The friendly Strophius with a right strong arm Protects him in Phocsea ; whilst his care Saw danger threat me in a double form, The loss of thee at Troy, the anarchy That might ensue, should madness drive the people To deeds of violence, as men are prompt Insultingly to trample on the fall'n : Such care dwells not with fraud. At thy return The gushing fountains of my tears are dried, Save that my eyes are weak with midnight watchings, Straining, through tears, if haply they might see Thy signal fires, that claimed my fixed attention. If they were closed in sleep, a silly fly Would, with its slightest murm'rings, make me start, And wake me to more fears. For thy dear sake All this I suffered : but my jocund heart Forgets it all, whilst I behold my lord, My guardian, the strong anchor of my hope, The stately column that supports my house, Dear as an only child to a fond parent ; Welcome as land, which the tossed mariner Beyond his hope descries ; welcome as day After a night of storms with fairer beams AGAMEMNON. 153 Returning ; welcome as the liquid lapse Of fountain to the thirsty traveller : So pleasant is it to escape the chain Of hard constraint. Such greeting I esteem Due to thy honour : let it not offend, For I have suffered much. But, my loved lord, Leave now that car ; nor on the bare ground set That royal foot, beneath whose mighty tread Troy trembled. Haste, ye virgins, to whose care This pleasing office is intrusted, spread The streets with tapestry ; let the ground be covered With richest purple, leading to the palace ; That honour with just state may grace his entry, Though unexpected. My attentive care Shall, if the gods permit, dispose the rest To welcome his high glories, as I ought. AGA. Daughter of Leda. guardian of my house, Thy words are correspondent to my absence, Of no small length. With better grace my praise Would come from others : soothe me not with strains Of adulation, as a girl ; nor raise, As to some proud barbaric king, that loves Loud acclamations echoed from the mouths Of prostrate worshippers, a clamorous welcome : Nor spread the streets with tapestry ; 'tis invidious ; These are the honours we should pay the gods. For mortal man to tread on ornaments Of rich embroidery No : I dare not do it : Respect me as a man, not as a god. Why should my foot pollute these vests, that glow With various tinctured radiance ? My full fame Swells high without it ; and the temperate rule Of cool discretion is the choicest gift Of favouring Heaven. Happy the man, whose life 154 AGAMEMNON. Is spent in friendship's calm security. These sober joys be mine, I ask no more. CLY. Do not thou thwart the purpose of my mind. AGA. My mind, be well assured, shall not be tainted. CLY. Hast thou in fear made to the gods this vow ? AGA. Free, from my soul in prudence have I said it. CLY. Had Priam's arms prevailed, how had he acted ? AGA. On rich embroidery he had proudly trod. CLY. Then dread not thou th' invidious tongues of men. AGA. Yet has the popular voice much potency. CLY. But the unenvied is not of the happy. AGA. Ill suits it thy soft sex to love contention. CLY. To yield sometimes adds honour to the mighty. AGA. Art thou so earnest to obtain thy wish ? CLY. Let me prevail : indulge me with this conquest. AGA. If such thy will, haste some one, from my feet Unloose these high-bound buskins, lest some god Look down indignant, if with themT press These vests sea-tinctured : shame it were to spoil With unclean tread their rich and costly texture. Of these enough. This stranger, let her find A gentle treatment : from high Heaven the god Looks with an eye of favour on the victor That bears his high state meekly ; for none wears Of his free choice the yoke of slavery. And she, of many treasures the prime flower Selected by the troops, has followed me. Well, since I yield me vanquished by thy voice, I go, treading on purple, to my house. CLY. Does not the sea, and who shall drain it, yield Unfailing stores of these rich tints, that glon- With purple radiance ? These this lordly house Commands, blest with abundance, but to want A stranger. I had vowed his foot should tread AGAMEMNON. 155 On many a vestment, when the victims bled, The hallowed pledge which this fond breast devised For his return. For whilst the vig'rous root Maintains its grasp, the stately head shall rise, And with its waving foliage screen the house From the fierce dog-star's fiery pestilence. And on thy presence at thy household hearth, Ev'n the cold winter feels a genial warmth. But when the hot sun in the unripe grape Matures the wine, the husband's perfect virtues Spread a refreshing coolness. Thou, O Jove, Source of perfection, perfect all my vows, And with thy influence favour my intents ! CHORUS. Strophe i. What may this mean ? Along the skies Why do these dreadful portents roll ? Visions of terror, spare my aching eyes, Nor shake my sad presaging soul ! In accents dread, not tuned in vain, Why bursts the free, unbidden strain ? These are no phantoms of the night, That vanish at the faithful light Of steadfast confidence. Thou sober power, Whither, ah, whither art thou gone ? For since the long-passed hour, When first for Troy the naval band Unmoored their vessels from the strand, Thou hast not in my bosom fixed thy throne. Antistrophe i. At length they come : these faithful eyes, See them returned to Greece again : r 5 6 AGAMEMNON. Yet, while the sullen lyre in silence lies, Erinnys wakes the mournful strain : Her dreadful powers possess my soul, And bid the untaught measures roll ; Swell in rude notes the dismal lay, And fright enchanting hope away ; Whilst, ominous of ill, grim-visaged care Incessant whirls my tortured heart. Vain be each anxious fear ! Return, fair hope, thy seat resume, Dispel this melancholy gloom, And to my soul thy gladsome light impart ! Strophe 2. Ah me, what hope ! This mortal state Nothing but cruel change can know. Should cheerful health our vig'rous steps await, Enkindling all her roseate glow ; Disease creeps on with silent pace, And withers ev'ry blooming grace. Proud sails the barque ; the fresh gales breathe, And dash her on the rocks beneath. In the rich house her treasures plenty pours ; Comes sloth, and from her well-poised sling Scatters the piled up stores. Yet disease makes not all her prey : Nor sinks the barque beneath the sea : And famine sees the heaven-sent harvest spring. Antistrophe 2. But when forth-welling from the wound The purple-streaming blood shall fall, And the warm tide distain the reeking ground, Who shall the vanished life recall ? AGAMEMNON. 157 Nor verse, nor music's magic power, Nor the famed leech's boasted lore ; Not that his art restored the dead, Jove's thunder burst upon his head. But that the Fates forbid, and chain my tongue, My heart, at inspiration's call, Would the rapt strain prolong : Now all is dark ; it raves in vain, And, as it pants with trembling pain, Desponding feels its fiery transports fall. CLYTEMNESTRA, CASSANDRA, CHORUS. CLYTEMNESTRA. Thou too, Cassandra, enter ; since high Jove, Gracious to thee, hath placed thee in this house, With many slaves to share the common rites, And deck the altar of the fav'ring god. Come from that chariot, and let temperance rule Thy lofty spirit : ev'n Alcmena's son, Sold as a slave, submitted to the yoke Perforce ; and if necessity's hard hand Hath sunk thee to this fortune, our high rank, With greatness long acquainted, knows to use Its power with gentleness : the low-born wretch, That from his mean degree rises at once To unexpected riches, treats his slaves With barbarous and unbounded insolence. From us thou wilt receive a juster treatment. CHOR. These are plain truths : since in the toils of fate Thou art enclosed, submit, if thou canst brook Submission ; haply I advise in vain. CLY. If that her language, like the twittering swallow's, Be not all barbarous and unknown, my words Within shall with persuasion move her mind. 158 AGAMEMNON. CHOR. She speaks what best beseems thy present state ; Follow, submit, and leave that lofty car. CLY. I have not leisure here before the gates T' attend on her ; for at the inmost altar, Blazing with sacred fires, the victims stand Devoted to the gods for his return So much beyond our hopes. If to comply Thou form thy mind, delay not : if thy tongue Knows not to sound our language, let thy signs Supply the place of words, speak with thy hand. CHOR. Of foreign birth she understands us not : But as new taken struggles in the net. CLY. 'Tis frenzy this, the impulse of a mind Disordered ; from a city lately taken She comes, and knows not how to bear the curb, Till she has spent her rage in bloody foam. But I no more waste words to be disdained. CHOR. My words, for much I pity her, shall bear No mark of anger. Go, unhappy fair one, Forsake thy chariot, unreluctant learn To bear this new yoke of necessity. CAS. Woe, woe ! O Earth ! Apollo, O Apollo ! CHOR. Why with that voice of woe invoke Apollo ? Ill do these notes of grief accord with him. CAS. Woe, woe ! O Earth ! Apollo, O Apollo ! CHOR. Again her inauspicious voice invokes The god, whose ears are not attuned to woe. CAS. Apollo, O Apollo, fatal leader, Yet once more, god, thou leadest me to ruin ! CHOR. She seems prophetic of her own misfortunes, Retaining, though a slave, the divine spirit. CAS. Apollo, O Apollo, fatal leader, Ah, whither hast thou led me ? to what house ? AGAMEMNON. 159 CHOR. Is that unknown ? Let me declare it then ; This is the royal mansion of th' Atridse, CAS. It is a mansion hated by the gods, Conscious to many a foul and horrid deed ; A slaughter-house, that reeks with human gore. CHOR. This stranger seems, like the nice-scented hound, Quick in the trace of blood, which she will find. CAS. These are convincing proofs. Look there, look Whilst pity drops a tear, the children butchered, [there, The father feasting on their roasted flesh ! CHOR. Thy fame, prophetic virgin, we have heard ; We know thy skill ; but wish no prophets now. CAS. Ye powers of Heaven, what does she now design ? What new and dreadful deed of woe is this ? What dreadful ill designs she in the house, Intolerable, irreparable mischief, Whilst far she sends the succouring power away ? CHOR. These prophecies surpass my apprehension ; The first I knew, they echo through the city. CAS. Ah ! daring wretch, dost thou achieve this deed, Thus in the bath the partner of thy bed . Refreshing ? How shall I relate th' event ? Yet speedy shall it be. Ev'n now advanced Hand above hand extended threatens high. CHOR. I comprehend her not ; her words are dark, Perplexing me like abstruse oracles. CAS. Ah ! What is this, that I see here before me ? Is it the net of hell ? Or rather hers, Who shares the bed and plans the murderous deed. Let discord, whose insatiable rage Pursues this race, howl through the royal rooms Against the victim destined to destruction. CHOR. What fury dost thou call within this house To hold her orgies ? The dread invocation i6o AGAMEMNON. Appals me ; to my heart the purple drops Flow back ; a deathlike mist covers my eyes, With expectation of some sudden ruin. CAS. See, see there : from the heifer keep the bull \ O'er his black brows she throws th' entangling vest, And smites him with her huge two-handed engine. He falls, amidst the cleansing laver falls : I tell thee of the bath, the treach'rous bath. CHOR. T unfold the obscure oracles of Heaven Is not my boast ; beneath the shadowing veil Misfortune lies : when did th' inquirer learn From the dark sentence an event of joy? From time's first records the diviner's voice Gives the sad heart a sense of misery. CAS. Ah me, unhappy ! Wretched, wretched fate i For my own sufferings joined call forth these waitings. Why hast thou brought me hither ? Wretched me ! Is it for this, that I may die with him ? CHOR. This is the frenzy of a mind possessed With wildest ravings. Thy own woes thou wailest In mournful melpdy ; like the sweet bird, That darkling pours her never-ceasing plaint ; And for her Itys, her lost Itys, wastes In sweetest woe her melancholy life. CAS. Ah me ! the fortune of the nightingale Is to be envied : on her light-poised plumes She wings at will her easy way, nor knows The anguish of a tear, whilst o'er my head Th' impending sword threatens the fatal wound. CHOR. Whence is this violent, this wild presage Of ill ? Thy fears are vain ; yet with a voice That terrifies, though sweet, aloud thou speakest Thy sorrows. Whence hast thou derived these omens, Thus deeply marked with characters of death ? AGAMEMNON. 161 CAS. Alas : the bed, the bridal bed of Paris, Destructive to his friends ! Paternal stream, Scamander, on thy banks with careless steps My childhood strayed : but now methinks I go, Alas, how soon ! to prophesy around Cocytus, and the banks of Acheron ! CHOR. Perspicuous this, and clear ! the new-born babe Might comprehend it ; but thy piercing griefs, Bewailing thus the miseries of thy fate, Strike deep ; they wound me to my very soul. CAS. Ah, my poor country, my poor bleeding country, Fall'n, fall'n for ever ! And you, sacred altars, That blazed before my father's towered palace, Not all your victims could avert your doom ! And on the earth soon shall my warm blood flow. CHOR. This is consistent with thy former ravings. Or does some god indeed incumbent press Thy soul, and modulate thy voice to utter These lamentable notes of woe and death ? What th' event shall be, exceeds my knowledge. CAS. The oracle no more shall shroud its visage Beneath a veil, as a new bride that blushes To meet the gazing eye ; but like the sun, When with his orient ray he gilds the east, Shall burst upon you in a flood of light, Disclosing deeds of deeper dread. Away, Ye mystic coverings ! And you, reverend men, Bear witness to me, that with steady step I trace foul deeds that smell above the earth. For never shall that band, whose yelling notes In dismal accord pierce th' affrighted ear, Forsake this house. The genius of the feast, Drunk with the blood of men, and fired from thence To bolder daring, ranges through the rooms 1 62 AGAMEMNON. Linked with his kindred Furies : these possess The mansion, and in horrid measures chant The first base deed ; recording with abhorrence Th' adulterous lust, that stained a brother's bed. What, like a skilful archer, have I lodged My arrow in the mark ? No trifling this, T' alarm you with false sounds. But swear to me, In solemn attestation, that I know, And speak the old offences of this house. CHOR. In such a rooted ill what healing power Resides there in an oath ? But much I marvel That thou, the native of a foreign realm, Of foreign tongue, canst speak our language freely, As Greece had been thy constant residence. CAS. Apollo graced me with this skill. At first The curb of modesty was on my tongue. CHOR. Did the god feel the force of young desire? In each gay breast ease fans the wanton flame. CAS. With all the fervour of impatient love He strove to gratify my utmost wish. CHOR. And didst thou listen to his tempting lures ? CAS. First I assented, then deceived the god. CHOR. Wast thou then fraught with these prophetic arts ? CAS. Even then I told my country all its woes. CHOR. The anger of the god fell heavy on thee ? CAS. My voice, for this offence, lost all persuasion. CHOR. To us it seems a voice of truth divine. CAS. Woe, woe is me ! Again the furious power Swells in my lab'ring breast ; again commands My bursting voice ; and what I speak is fate. Look, look, behold those children. There they sit ; Such are the forms, that in the troubled night Distract our sleep. By a friend's hands they died ; Are these the ties of blood ? See, in their hands AGAMEMNON. 163 Their mangled limbs, horrid repast, they bear : Th' invited father shares th' accursed feast. For this the sluggard savage, that at ease Rolls on his bed, nor rouses from his lair, 'Gainst my returning lord, for I must wear The yoke of slavery, plans the dark design Of death. Ah me ! the chieftain of the fleet, The vanquisher of Troy, but little knows What the smooth tongue of mischief, filed to words Of glozing courtesy, with fate her friend, Like Ate ranging in the dark can do Calmly : such deeds a woman dares : she dares Murder a man. What shall I call this mischief ? An Amphisbsena ? or a Scylla rather, That in the vexed rocks holds her residence, 1 And meditates the mariner's destruction ? Mother of Hell, 'midst friends enkindling discord And hate implacable ! With dreadful daring How did she shout, as if the battle swerved ? Yet with feigned joy she welcomes his return. These words may want persuasion. What of that ? What must come, will come : and ere long with grief Thou shall confess my prophecies are true. CHOR. Thyestes' bloody feast oft have I heard of, Always with horror; and I tremble now Hearing th' unaggravated truth. What else She utters, leads my wand'ring thoughts astray In wild uncertainty. CAS. Then mark me well, Thou shalt behold the death of Agamemnon. CHOR. To better omens tune that voice unblessed, Or in eternal silence be it sunk. CAS. This is an ill no medicine can heal. CHOR. Not if it happens : but avert it ; Heaven ! F a 1 64 AGAMEMNON. CAS. To pray be thine ; the murd'rous deed is theirs. CHOR. What man dares perpetrate this dreadful act? CAS. How widely dost thou wander from my words ? CHOR. I heard not whose bold hand should do the deed. CAS. Yet speak I well the language of your Greece. CHOR. The gift of Phoebus this ; no trivial grace. CAS. Ah, what a sudden flame comes rushing on me ! I burn, I burn. Apollo, O Apollo ! This lioness, that in a sensual sty Rolled with the wolf, the generous lion absent, Will kill me. And the sorc'ress, as she brews Her philtred cup, will drug it with my blood. She glories, as against her husband's life She whets the axe. her vengeance falls on him For that he came accompanied by me. Why do I longer wear these useless honours, This laurel wand, and these prophetic wreaths ? Away ; before I die I cast you from me ; Lie there, and perish ; I am rid of you ; Or deck the splendid ruin of some other. Apollo rends from me these sacred vestments, Who saw me in his rich habiliments Mocked 'midst my friends, doubtless without a cause. When in opprobrious terms they jeered my skill, And treated me as a poor vagrant wretch, That told events from door to door for bread, I bore it all : but now the prophet god, That with his own arts graced me, sinks me down To this low ruin. As my father fell Butchered ev'n at the altar, like the victim's My warm blood at the altar shall be shed : Nor shall we die unhonoured by the gods. He comes, dreadful in punishment, the son Of this bad mother, by her death t' avenge AGAMEMNON, 165 His murdered father : distant though he roams. An outcast and an exile, by his friends Fenced from these deeds of violence, he comes In solemn vengeance for his father laid Thus low. But why for foreign miseries Does the tear darken in my eye, that saw The fall of Ilium, and its haughty conquerors In righteous judgment thus receive their meed ? But forward now ; I go to close the scene, Nor shrink from death. I have a vow in heaven : And further, I adjure these gates of hell, Well may the blow be aimed, that whilst my blood Flows in a copious stream, I may not feel The fierce, convulsive agonies of death ; But gently sink, and close my eyes in peace. CHOR. Unhappy, in thy knowledge most unhappy, Long have thy sorrows flowed. But if indeed Thou dost foresee thy death, why, like the heifer Led by a heavenly impulse, do thy steps Advance thus boldly to the cruel altar? CAS. I could not by delay escape my fate. CHOR. Yet is there some advantage in delay. CAS. The day is come : by flight I should gain litile. CHOR. Thy boldness adds to thy unhappiness. CAS. None of the happy shuns his destined end. CHOR. True ; but to die with glory crowns our praise. CAS. So died my father, so his noble sons. CHOR. What may this mean ? Why backward dost thou start? Do thy own thoughts with horror strike thy soul ? CAS. The scent of blood and death breathes from this house. CHOR. The victims now are bleeding at the altar, CAS. 'Tis such a smell as issues from the temb. 166 AGAMEMNON. CHOR. This is no Syrian odour in the house. CAS. Such though it be, I enter to bewail My fate, and Agamemnon's. To have lived, Let it suffice. And think not, gen'rous strangers, Like the poor bird that flutters o'er the bough, Through fear I linger. But my dying words You will remember, when her blood shall flow For mine, woman's for woman's : and the man's, For his that falls by his accursed wife. CHOR. Thy fate, poor sufferer, fills my eyes with tears. CAS. Yet once more let me raise my mournful voice. Thou sun, whose rising beams shall bless no more These closing eyes ! You, whose vindictive rage Hangs o'er my hated murderers, oh avenge me, Though, a poor slave, I fall an easy prey ! This is the state of man : in prosperous fortune A shadow, passing light, throws to the ground Joy's baseless fabric : in adversity Comes malice with a sponge moistened in gall, And wipes each beauteous character away : More than the first this melts my soul to pity. CHOR. By nature man is formed with boundless wishes For prosperous fortune ; and the great man's door Stands ever open to that envied person. On whom she smiles ; but enter not with words, Like this poor sufferer, of such dreadful import. His arms the powers of Heaven have graced with conquest ; Troy's proud walls lie in dust ; and he returns Crowned by the gods with glory : but if now His blood must for the blood there shed atone, If he must die for those that died, too dearly He buys his triumph. Who of mortal men Hears this,' and dares to think his state secure ? AGA. \within\ Oh ! I am wounded with a deadly blow. AGAMEMNON. 167 SEMICHOR. List, list. What cry is this of wounds and death ? AGA. Wounded again, oh, basely, basely murdered ! SEMICHORUS. Tis the king's cry ; the dreadful deed is doing. What shall we do ? What measures shall we form ? What if we spread th' alarm, and with our outcries Call at the palace gates the citizens ? Nay rather rush we in, and prove the deed, Whilst the fresh blood is reeking on the sword. I readily concur ; determine then ; For something must be done, and instantly. That's evident. This bloody prelude threatens More deeds of violence and tyranny. We linger : those that tread the paths of honour, Late though she meets them, sleep not in their task. Perplexity and doubt distract my thoughts : Deeds of high import ask maturest counsel. Such are my thoughts, since fruitless were th' attempt By all our pleas to raise the dead to life. To save our wretched lives then shall we bow To these imperious lords, these stains of honour ? That were a shame indeed ! No ; let us die : Death is more welcome than such tyranny. Shall we then take these outcries, which we heard, For proofs, and thence conclude the king is slain ? We should be well assured ere we pronounce : To know, and to conjecture, differ widely. There's reason in thy words. Best enter then, And see what fate attends the. son of Atreus. 1 68 AGAMEMNON. CLYTEMNESTRA, CHORUS. CLYTEMNESTRA. To many a fair speech suited to the If my words now be found at variance, [times, I shall not blush. For when the heart conceives Thoughts of deep vengeance on a foe, what means T' achieve the deed more certain, than to wear The form of friendship, and with circling wiles Enclose him in th' insuperable net ? This was no hasty, rash-conceived design ; But formed with deep, premeditated thought, Incensed with wrongs ; and often have I stood, T' assay the execution, where he fell ; And planned it so, for I with pride avow it, He had no power t' escape, or to resist, Entangled in the gorgeous robe, that shone Fatally rich. I struck him twice, and twice He groaned, then died. A third time as he lay I gored him with a wound, a grateful present To the stern god, that in the realms below Reigns o'er the dead : there let him take his seat. He lay ; and spouting from his wounds a stream Of blood, bedewed me with these crimson drops. I glory in them, like the genial earth, When the warm showers of heaven descend, and wake The flow'rets to unfold their vermeil leaves. Come then, ye reverend senators of Argos, Joy with me, if your hearts be tuned to joy ; And such I wish them. Were it decent now To pour libations o'er the dead, with justice It might be done; for his injurious pride Filled for this house the cup of desolation, Fated himself to drain it to the dregs. CHOR. We are astonished at thy daring words, Thus vaunting o'er the ruins of thy husband. AGAMEMNON. 169 CLV. Me, like a witless woman, wouldst thou fright ? I tell thee, my firm soul disdains to fear. Be thou disposed t' applaud, or censure me, 1 reck it not : there Agamemnon lies, My husband, slaughtered by this hand : I dare Avow his death, and justify the deed. CHOR. What poison hath the baleful-teeming earth, Or the chafed billows of the foamy sea, Given thee for food, or mingled in thy cup, To work thee to this frenzy ? Thy cursed hand Hath struck, hath slain. For this thy country's wrath Shall in just vengeance burst upon thy head, And with abhorrence drive thee from the city. CLY. And dost thou now denounce upon my head Vengeance, and hate, and exile ? 'Gainst this man Urging no charge ? Yet he without remorse, As if a lamb that wantoned in his pastures Were doomed to bleed, could sacrifice his daughter, For whose dear sake I felt a mother's pains, T' appease the winds of Thrace. Should not thy voice Adjudge this man to exile, in just vengeance For such unholy deeds ? Scarce hast thou heard What I have done, but sentence is pronounced, And that with rigour too. But mark me well, I boldly tell thee that I bear a soul Prepared for either fortune ; if thy hand Be stronger, use thy power : but if the gods Prosper my cause, be thou assured, old man, Thou shalt be taught a lesson of discretion. CHOR. Aspiring are thy thoughts, and thy proud vaunts Swell with disdain ; ev'n yet thy madding mind Is drunk with slaughter ; with a savage grace The thick blood stains thine eye. But soon thy friends Faithless shall shrink from thy unsheltered side. And leave thee to just vengeance, blow for blow. lyo A GAMEMNON. CLY. Hear then this solemn oath : By that revenge, Which for my daughter I have greatly taken ; By the dread powers of Ate* and Erinnys, To whom my hand devoted him a victim, Without a thought of fear I range these rooms, Whilst present to my aid ^Egisthus stands, As he hath stood, guarding my social hearth : He is my shield, my strength, my confidence. Here lies my base betrayer, who at Troy Could revel in the arms of each Chryseis ; He, and his captive minion ; she that marked Portents and prodigies, and with ominous tongue Presaged the Fates ; a wanton harlotry, True to the rower's benches : their just meed Have they received. See where he lies ; and she, That like the swan warbled her dying notes, His paranymph lies with him, to my bed Leaving the darling object of my wishes. CHOR. No slow-consuming pains, to torture us Fixed to the groaning couch, await us now ; But fate comes rushing on, and brings the sleep That wakes no more. There lies the king, whose virtues Were truly royal. In a woman's cause He suffered much ; and by a woman perished. Ah fatal Helen ! in the fields of Troy How many has thy guilt, thy guilt alone, Stretched in the dust ? But now by murd'rous hands Hast thou sluiced out this rich and noble blood, Whose foul stains never can be purged. This ruin Hath discord, raging in the house, effected. CLY. Wish not for death ; nor bow beneath thy griefs ; Nor turn thy rage on Helen, as if she Had drenched the fields with blood, as she alone Fatal to Greece had caused these dreadful ills. AGAMEMNON. 171 CHOR. Tremendous fiend, that breathest through this house Thy baleful spirit, and with equal daring Hast steeled these royal sisters to fierce deeds That rend my soul, now, like the baleful raven, Incumbent o'er the body dost thou joy T' affright us with thy harsh and dissonant notes ! CLY. There's sense in this : now hast thou touched the key, Rousing the fury that from sire to son Hath bade the stream of blood, first poured by her, Descend : one sanguine tide scarce rolled away, Another flews in terrible succession. CHOR. And dost thou glory in these deeds of death, This vengeance of the fury ? Thus to pride thee In ruin, and the havoc of thy house, Becomes thee ill. Ah ! 'tis a higher power, That thus ordains : we see the hand of Jove, Whose will directs the fate of mortal man. My king, my royal lord, what words can show My grief, my reverence for thy princely virtues ! Art thou thus fall'n, caught in a cobweb snare, By impious murder breathing out thy life ? Art thou thus fall'n, ah the disloyal bed ! Secretly slaughtered by a treacherous hand ? CLY. Thou say'st, and say'st aloud, I did this deed : Say not that I, that Agamemnon's wife, Did it : the fury, fatal to this house, In vengeance for Thyestes' horrid feast, Assumed this form, and with her ancient rage Hath for the children sacrificed the man. CHOR. That thou art guiltless of this blood, what proof, What witness ? From the father, in his cause, Rise an avenger ! Stained with the dark streams Of kindred blood fierce waves the bick'ring sword, And points the ruthless boy to deeds of horror. 172 AGA MEMNON. My king, my royal lord, what words can show My grief, my reverence for thy princely virtues ! Art thou thus fall'n, caught in r_ cobweb snare, By impious murder breathing out thy life ? Art thou thus fall'n, ah the disloyal bed ! Secretly slaughtered by a treach'rous hand ? CLY. No : of his death far otherwise I deem, Nothing disloyal. Nor with secret guile Wrought he his murd'rous mischiefs on this house. For my sweet rlow'ret, opening from his stem, My Iphigenia, my lamented child, Whom he unjustly slew, he justly died. Nor let him glory in the shades below ; For as he taught his sword to thirst for blood, So by the thirsty sword his blood was shed. CHOR. Perplexed and troubled in my anxious thought. Amidst the ruins of this house, despair Hangs heavy on me. Drop by drop no more Descends the shower of blood ; but the wild storm In one red torrent shakes the solid walls ; Whilst vengeance, ranging through the deathful scene, For further mischief whets her fatal sword. SEMICHOR. O Earth, that I had rested L ,ny bosom. Ere I had seen him lodged with thee, and shrunk To the brief compass of a silver urn ! Who shall attend the rites of sepulture ? W T ho sha'l lament him ? Thou, whose hand has shed Thy husband's blood, wilt thou dare raise the voice Of mourning o'er him ? Thy unhallowed hand Renders these honours, should they come from thee, Unwelcome to his shade. What faithful tongue, Fond to recount his great and godlike acts, Shall steep in tears his funeral eulogy ? CLY. This care concerns not thee : by us he fell, A GAMEMNON. 173 By us he died ; and we will bury him With no domestic grief. But Iphigenia, His daughter, as is meet, jocund and blithe Shall meet him on the banks of that sad stream, The flood of sorrow, and with filial duty Hang fondling on her father's neck, and kiss him. CHOR. Thus insult treads on insult. Of these things Hard is it to decide. Th' infected stain Communicates th' infection ; murder calls For blood ; and outrage on th' injurious head, At Jove's appointed time, draws outrage down. Thus, by the laws of nature, son succeeds To sire ; and who shall drive him from the house ? CLY. These are the oracles of truth. But hear me ; It likes me to the genius of the race Of Plisthenes to swear that what is past, Though poor the satisfaction, bounds my wishes. Hither he comes no more : no, let him stain Some other house with gore. For me, some poor, Some scanty pittance of the goods contents me, Well satisfied that from this house I've driven These frantic Furies red with kindred blood. /EGISTHUS, CLYTEMNESTRA, CHORUS. ^EGISTHUS. Hail to this joyful day, whose welcome light Brings vengeance ! Now I know that the just gods Look from their skies, and punish impious mortals, Seeing this man rolled in the blood- wove woof, The tissue of the Furies, grateful sight, And suffering for his father's fraudful crimes. Atreus, his father, sovereign of this land, Brooking no rival in his power, drove out My father and his brother, poor Thyestes, A wretched exile : from his country far 174 A GAMEMNON. He wandered ; but at length returned, and stood A suppliant before the household gods, Secure in their protection that his blood Should not distain the pavement. This man's father, The sacrilegious Atreus, with more show Of courtesy than friendship, spread the feast ; Devoting, such the fair pretence, the day To hospitality and genial mirth : Then to my father in that feast served up The flesh of his own sons : their hands and feet Hacked off before, their undistinguished parts He eat, without suspicion eat, a food Destructive to the race. But when he knew Th' unhallowed deed, he raised a mournful cry, And starting up with horror spurned to the ground The barb'rous banquet, utt'ring many a curse Of deepest vengeance on the house of Pelops. Thus perish all the race of Plisthenes i And for this cause thou seest him fall'n ! His death With justice I devised ; for me he chased, The thirteenth son, an infant in my cradle, With my unhappy father. Nursed abroad, Vengeance led back my steps, and taught my hand From far to reach him. All this plan of ruin Was mine, reckless of what ensues ; ev'n death Were glorious, now he lies caught in my vengeance. CHOR. T' embitter ills with insult, this, ^Egisthus, I praise not. Thou, of thine own free accord, Hast slain this man ; such is thy boast ; this plan Of ruin, which we mourn, is thine alone. But be thou well assured thou shall not 'scape, When, roused to justice, the avenging people Shall hurl their stones with curses on thy head. MGIS. From thee, who labourest at the lowest oar, AGAMEMNON. 175 This language, and to him that holds the helm ! Thou shalt be taught, old man, what at thy age Is a hard lesson, prudence. Chains and hunger, Besides the load of age, have sovereign virtue To physic the proud heart. Behold this sight ; Does it not ope thine eyes ? Rest quiet then ; Contend not with the strong; there's danger in it. CHOR. And could thy softer sex, whilst the rough war Demands its chieftain, violate his bed, And on his first return contrive his death ? ^GIS. No more: this sounds th' alarm to rude com- plaints. The voice of Orpheus with its soothing notes Attracted ev'n the savage ; whilst thy yells To rage inflame the gentle : but take heed ; Dungeons and chains may teach thee moderation. CHOR. Shalt thou reign king in Argos? Thou, whose soul Plotted this murder ; whilst thy coward hand Shrunk back, nor dared to execute the deed ? ^Ecis. Wiles and deceit are female qualities : The memory of my ancient enmity Had waked suspicion. Master of his treasures, Be it my next attempt to gain the people : Whome'er I find unwilling to submit, Him, like a high-fed and unruly horse Reluctant to the harness, rigour soon Shall tame : confinement, and her meagre comrade, Keen hunger, will abate his fiery mettle. CHOR. Did not the baseness of thy coward soul Unman thee to this murder, that a woman, Shame to her country and her country's gods, Must dare the horrid deed ? But when Orestes, Where'er he breathes the vital air, returns, 1 76 AGAMEMNON. Good fortune be his guide, shall not his hand Take a bold vengeance in the death of both ? ^GIS. Such since thy thoughts and words, soon shall thou feel CHOR. Help, ho ! soldiers and friends ; the danger's near; Help, ho ! advance in haste with your drawn swords ! &GIS. My sword is drawn : .^Egisthus dares to die. CHOR. Prophetic be thy words ! We hail the omen. CLY. Dearest of men, do not heap ills on ills : I wish not to exasperate, but to heal, Misfortune's past : enough is given to vengeance : Let no more blood be spilt. Go then, old men ; Each to your homes ; go, whilst ye may, in peace. What hath been done the rigour of the times Compelled, and hard necessity ; the weight Of these afflictions, grievous as they are, By too severe a doom falls on our heads. Disdain not to be taught, though by a woman. ^GIS. Ay ; but to hear this vain, tongue-doughty babbler, Lavish of speech that tempts to desperate deeds, It moves me from the firmness of my temper. CHOR. An Argive scorns to fawn on guilty greatness. ^Ecis. My vengeance shall o'ertake thee at the last. CHOR. Not if just Heaven shall guide Orestes hither. ALcis. An exile, I well know, feeds on vain hopes. CHOR. Go on then, gorge with blood; thou hast the means. JEcis. This folly, be assured, shall cost thee dear. CHOR. The craven, in her presence, rears his crest. CLY. Slight men, regard them not ; but let us enter, Assume our state, and order all things well. THE CHOEPHOR& THE Chorus in the former play, with a dignity and firmness becoming senators of Argos, had expressed their abhorrence of the murder of Agamemnon even to the face of Clytem- nestra and ^Egisthus, and threatened them with the anger of the gods and the vengeance of Orestes : this is here executed. The characters of Orestes and Electra are finely sup- ported. A pious resentment of the murder of his father, a consciousness of his own high rank, and a just indignation at the injuries he had received from the murderers, a generous desire to deliver his country from the tyranny of these usurpers, and above all the express command of Apollo, with a promise of his protection if he obeyed, and a denunciation of the severest punishments should he dare to disobey, incited Orestes to this deed : he is accordingly drawn as a man of a brave and daring spirit, touched with the highest sense of honour, and the most religious reverence of the gods: in such a character there could be nothing savage and ferocious; and we are pleased to find him deeply sensible of the horror of the deed which he was obliged to perpetrate, and averse to plunge his sword into the breast of his mother. " Electra' s character (in the .words of the critic) is that of a fierce and determined, but withal of a 178 THE CHOEPHORJE. generous and virtuous woman. Her motives to revenge were, principally, a strong sense of justice, and superior affection for a father ; not a rooted, unnatural aversion to a mother. She acted, as appears, not from the perturbation of a tumultuous revenge, but from a fixed abhorrence of wrong, and a virtuous sense of duty." Consistently with this character, when she had given Orestes a spirited account of their father's murder, which drew him to declare his resolution to revenge it, showing at the same time some sign of remorse, she adds a short relation of the barbarous indignities offered to the dead body; a deed of horror which she knew would shock his soul. She had seen her father murdered, his body mangled and buried without its honours; her brother, whom she loved with the tenderest affection, deprived of his throne'^ and exiled from his country ; her mother in the arms of ^Egisthus abandon- ing herself to her loose and infamous pleasures ; she was herself continually exposed to the insults and barbarous treatment of this ungentle mother ; what wonder then, that a spirit naturally lofty and sensible, should catch fire at these injuries, contract a wolfish fierceness, as she ex- presses it, and urge her brother to sacrifice these proud oppressors to justice and revenge? But the poet, with great regard to decorum, removes her from the scene before the dreadful deed is to be committed : with regard to his management of the catastrophe, nothing could be more judicious. Orestes, who had rushed on ^Egisthus with the fury of a tiger, in the presence of his mother feels himself under the restraint of filial reverence, and confesses his reluctance to shed her blood; till Pylades animates him with a sentence as solemn as the Delphic Oracle; which finely marks the fatal blow as an act of necessary justice, not of ruffian violence. Even the Chorus, who enter warmly into the interests of Electra and Orestes, and had THE CHOEPHOR^E. 179 fired him to revenge by every argument of duty, justice, law, and honour ; who had wished to hear the dying groans of the guilty tyrants, and to echo them back in notes as dismal, after the deed is done, reassume the softer senti- ments of humanity, and lament their fate. The remorse and madness of Orestes is touched in the finest manner. These indeed are but sketches, but they are the sketches of a great master: a succeeding poet had the skill to give them their finishing, and heightened them with the warmest glow of colouring. The spirit of ^schylus shines through this tragedy ; but a certain softening of grief hangs over it, and gives it an air of solemn magnificence. The scene of this tragedy, as of the former, is at Argos before the royal palace. Orestes, according to the custom of ancient times, offering his hair on the tomb of his father, sees a train of females advancing from the house, and bringing libations to tJie tomb ; from whence the play receives its name. The action is afterwards removed to the area before the palace. This requires no change of scene. ORESTES. PYLADES. ELECTRA. CLYTEMNESTRA. PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. yEciSTHUS. SERVANTS. CHORUS OF TROJAN DAMES ORESTES, PYLADES. ORESTES. O thou, that to the regions of the dead Bearest thy father's high behests, O hear, Hear, Mercury, thy supplicant, protect, And save me ; for I come, from exile come, i8o THE CHOEPHOR&. Revisiting my country ! Thou, dread shade, At whose high tomb I bow, shade of my father, Hear me, O hear ! To thee these crisped locks, Once sacred to the nurture-giving stream Of Inachus, in th' anguish of my soul I now devote. But what are these, this train Of females in the sable garb of woe Decently habited? Whence spring their sorrows? Does some new ruin lord it in the house ? Or haply, if I deem aright, they bring Oblations to my father's shade, to soothe The mighty dead. It must be so ; for, see, Electra is among them, my poor sister, Pre-eminent in grief. Almighty Jove, O give me to revenge my father's death, And shield me with thy favour ! Pylades, Stand we apart concealed, that I may learn What leads this train of suppliant females hither. CHORUS. Strophe i. This sadly-pensive train to lead, With hallowed rites to soothe the dead, To bear these offrings to his shrine, The melancholy task is mine. And, as from yon proud walls I take my way, My cheeks, with many a sounding blow Beat by these hands, in crimson glow, Whilst my poor heart to anguish sinks a prey : And the fair texture of this vest, That decent o'er my swelling bosom rolled, My griefs through ev'ry waving fold Have rent, and bared my bleeding breast, THE CHOEPHOR^E. 181 Antistrophe \. - For in the still and midnight hour, When darkless aids his hideous power, Affright, that breathes his vengeance deep, Haunts with wild dreams the troubled sleep, That freeze the blood, and raise the bristling hair : Grim spectre ! he with horrid" tread Stalked around the curtained bed, And raised a yell that pierced the tortured ear. Aghast the heaven-taught prophet stood : The dead, he cries, the angry dead around, These dreadful notes of vengeance sound, Dreadful to those that shed their blood, Strophe 2. With soul- subduing fear appalled Me this unholy woman called, To bear these gifts, this train to lead, And soothe to peace the mighty dead. But will these gifts be grateful to his shade ? O Earth, when once the gushing blood Hath on thy purple bosom flowed, What grateful expiation shall be made ? Ill-fated house, thy master slain, How are thy glories vanished ! O'er thy walls A joyless, sunless darkness falls, And horror holds his hateful reign. Antistrophe 2. Round him the blaze of greatness shone, And dignity adorned his throne : The people bowed before their lord, Awe- struck, and his high state adored. 1 82 THE CHOEPHORJE. Where now that reverend awe, that sacred dread Of majesty? Success, to thee, As to a god, men bend the knee. But justice hastes t' avenge each impious deed; Some in day's clear and open light, Some in the dusky evening's twilight shade, Or by delay more furious made, Some in the dreary gloom of night. Epode. His blood, that sunk upon the ground A stiffened mass of carnage lies, Aloud for vengeance on his murderers cries : At obeys thy call ; but slow Delays, till dreary night enclose them round, Prepared to strike a deeper blow. Shall he, that foul with midnight rape Pollutes the nuptial bed, escape ? Murder and lust ! Were all the streams, that wind Their mazy progress to the main, To cleanse this odious stain in one combined, The streams combined would flow in vain. Me, from my bleeding country torn, Condemned the servile yoke to bear, Bitter constraint and spirit-sinking fear Compel t' obey their proud commands ; Just, or unjust, perforce they must be borne ; Captive, my life is in their hands : Perforce my straggling soul conceals its hate ; My vest forbids the starting tear to flow ; Mourning the mighty chiefs unhappy fate Silent I stand, and stiffen with my woe. ELEC. Ye captive females, to whose care this house Owes what it has of order, since with me THE CHOEPHORJL. 183 You here are present on these suppliant rites Attendant, show, instruct me, as I pour These solemn ofFrings on the tomb, what words Of gracious potency shall I pronounce ? Or how invoke my father ? Shall I say " To her loved lord the loving wife hath sent These presents ? " Shame forbids : nor hath my tongue Aught of address, whilst on my father's tomb I offer these atonements. Should I rather, As nature prompts, entreat him to return Like garlands to the senders, meet reward For their ill deeds ? Or with inglorious silence, For so he perished, on the thirsty earth Pour these libations, then retire, like one That in some worthless vessel throws away Something unclean, and casts the vessel with it, Nor backwards turns her eyes ? Instruct me, friends, Advise me, for alike we hate this house ; Be open then ; here you have none to fear. The free escapes not fate, more than the wretch That trembles at his proud lord's tyrannous hand. If thou hast aught of counsel, give it me. CHOR. Since, as some hallowed shrine, thy father's tomb I reverence, at thy bidding I will speak. ELEC. I charge thee, by that reverence, freely speak. CHOR. With these libations pour thy ardent vows For blessings on the head of all his friends. ELEC. Whom by that honoured title shall I name ? CHOR. Thyself the first, and all that hate ^Egisthus. ELEC. For thee and me then shall I pour these vows ? CHOR. To learn and weigh this well, be thy concern. ELEC. Whom to this friendly number shall I add ? CHOR. Though distant far, remember poor Orestes. ELEC. That's 11 : I learn no little wisdom from thee. 1 84 THE CMOEPttORJE. CHOR. Remember next the authors of his death. ELEC. What should I say ? Instruct my lack of knowledge. CHOR. Pray that some god, or man, may come to them. ELEC. With what intent ? To judge, or to avenge ? CHOR. Speak plainly, to repay them death for death. ELEC. And may this be with reverence to the gods ? CHOR. What hinders to requite a foe with ill ? ELEC. \at the tomb'] O thou, that to the realms beneath the earth Guidest the dead, be present, Mercury, And tell me that the powers, whose solemn sway Extends o'er those dark regions, hear my vows ; Tell me that o'er my father's house they roll Their awful eyes, and o'er this earth, that bears And fosters all, rich in their various fruits. And thee, my father, pouring from this vase Libations to thy shade, on thee I call, O pity me, pity my dear Orestes, That in this seat of kings our hands may hold The golden reins of power : for now oppressed, And harassed by a mother's cruel hand, Who for ^Egisthus, that contrived thy death, Exchanged her royal lord, he wanders far, And I am treated as a slave : Orestes From his possessions exiled, they with pride Wantonly revel in the wealth thy toils Procured : O grant Orestes may return, And fortune be his guide. Hear me, my father, And grant me, more than e'er my mother knew, The grace and blush of unstained modesty, And a more holy hand ! For us these vows ; But on our foes may thy avenger rise Demanding blood for blood. These vows I breathe In dreadful imprecations on their heads. THE CHOEPHOR&. 185 Be thou to us, my father, with the gods, This earth, and pow'rful justice, be to us, That breathe this vital air, a guide to good. With these libations such the vows I offer. Now let your sorrows flow : attune the psean, And soothe his shade with solemn harmony. CHOR. Swell the warbling voice of woe, Loudly let the measures flow ; And ever and anon the sorrowing tear Trickling dew the hallowed ground, T' avert the ills we fear ; Whilst on this sepulchral mound Her pious hands the pure libation shed, T' atone the mighty dead. Hear me, O hear me, awful lord, Through the dreary gloom adored ! Ha ! Who is this ? See, sisters, see, Mark with what force he shakes his angry lance : Comes he this ruined house to free ? So does some Thracian chief advance ; So Mars, when roused with war's alarms, Radiant all his clashing arms, Rears high his flaming falchion to the blow, And thunders on the foe. ELEC. 'Tis finished ; these libations to my father The earth has drunk. Thou awful power, that holdest 'Twixt this ethereal sky and the dark realms Beneath dread intercourse : what may this mean ? 'Tis all amazement. Share this wonder with me. CHOR. Say what : my throbbing heart has caught th' alarm. ELEC. Placed on the tomb behold these crisped locks. CHOR. Shorn from a man, or some high-bosomed dame ? ELEC. 'Tis no hard task to form a strong conjecture. i86 THE CHOEPHOR&. CHOR. Young though thou art, inform my riper age. ELEC. None here, myself excepted, could devote His locks, the mournful off ring ill becomes Our enemies. Then the colour ; mark it well ; 'Tis the same shade. CHOR. With whose? I burn to know. ELEC. With mine : compare them : are they not mucr like? CHOR. Are they a secret offring from Orestes ? ELEC. Mark : they are very like his clustering locks. CHOR. I marvel how he dared to venture hither. ELEC. Perchance he sent this honour to his father. CHOR. Nor that less cause of sorrow, if his foot Must never press his native soil again. ELEC. A flood of grief o'erwhelms me, and my heart Is pierced with anguish ; from my eyes that view These locks, fast fall the ceaseless-streaming tears, Like wintry showers. To whom besides, that here Inhabits, could I think these locks belong ? Could she, who slew him, offer on his tomb Her hair ? Alas ! her thoughts are impious all, Such as a daughter dares not name. I deem, With reason then I deem they graced the head Of my Orestes, dearest of mankind : Why should not I indulge the flatt'ring hope ? Ah ! had they but a voice, could they but speak, That I no more might fluctuate with these doubts Perplexed and troubled ; could they plainly tell me If they were shorn from a foe's hated head, Or fondly mix their kindred griefs with mine, A grace and honour to my father's tomb ! But to the gods, that know what furious storms Burst o'er me, like a shipwrecked mariner, I make appeal : if haply aught of safety THE CHOEPHOR&. 187 Remains, from this small root the vig'rous trunk May spread its shelt'ring branches. Further mark Th' impression of these feet ; they show that two Trod here ; himself perchance and his attendant ; . One of th' exact dimensions with my own. But all is anguish and perplexity. ORESTES, PYLADES, ELECTRA, CHORUS. ORESTES. In other pressures beg the fav'ring gods To hear thy vows, and shower their blessings on thee. ELEC. What blessing from them have I now obtained ? ORES. Thou seest before thee whom but late thine eyes Most wished to see. ELEC. And dost thou know the name, Which with fond joy my tongue delights to utter? ORES. Thy fervent vows, I know, are for Orestes. ELEC. And of those vows what have I yet obtained ? ORES. I am Orestes : seek no firmer friend. ELEC. With wily trains thouwouldst ensnare me, stranger. ORES. Then should I spread these trains against myself. ELEC. But thou wouldst mock me in my miseries. ORES. To mock thy miseries were t' insult my own. ELEC. Am I indeed conversing with Orestes ? ORES. Thou seest me present, yet art slow to know me. When offered on the tomb thou saw'st these locks, When with thy own th' imp ressions of my feet Were measured, joy gave wings to expectation, And imaged me before thee. Mark these locks, Shorn from thy brother's head ; observe them well, Compare them with thy own. * This tissue, view it, The texture is thy own, the rich embroidery, Thine are these figures, by thy curious hand Imaged in gold. Let not thy joy transport thee : Our nearest friends are now our deadliest foes. 1 88 THE C ELEC. Thou dearest pledge of this imperial house, From thee my hopes, watered with tears, arose : Thy valour shall support our righteous cause, And vindicate the glories of thy father. Pride of my soul, for my fond tongue must speak, The love my father shared, my mother shared, Once shared, but justly now my soul abhors her, And that poor victim, my unhappy sister, Is centred all in thee : thou art my father, My mother, sister, my support, my glory, My only aid : and Heaven's great King shall prosper Thy courage, and the justice of thy cause. ORES. Look down, great King of Heaven, look down, These deeds of baseness ; see an orphan race, [behold Reft of the parent eagle, that, inwreathed In the dire serpent's spiry volumes, perished. They, unprotected, feel th' oppressive pangs Of famine, yet too weak to wing their flight, And, like their parent, fill their nest with prey. We are the eagle's offspring, of our father Deprived, and driven in exile from his house. Before thy altars, loaded by his hand, He bowed with pious reverence. Should thy will Permit his young to perish, who shall pay thee Like costly honours? Should the eagle's offspring Be doomed to perish, who shall bear thy thunders, Dread sign of wrath awaked on mortal man ? Nor will this empire, withered from its roots, Adorn thy altars on the solemn day With hallowed victims. Sav,e us then, protect us, To all its former glories raise this house, Whose ruined towers seem bending to their fall. CHOR. Ye generous offspring of this royal house, And guardians of its honour, check your transports ; THE CHOEPffORsE* 189 Lest they are heard, and some incontinent tongue Bear them to pur bad rulers : may these eyes First see the dark wreaths of their funeral piles. ORES. The voice of Phoebus never shall deceive i In dreadful accents uttered from his shrine Aloud he charged me to defy the danger, Threatening to rack my soul with keenest tortures, Should I forbear t' avenge my father's death With equal retribution on his murderer, That proudly riots in my wasted wealth. This honoured shade he charged me to avenge, Though round enclosed with evils ; to the dead This triumph o'er their fogs the voice declared A lenient joy ; to us denouncing ills, Corrosive leprosies with rankling tooth To gnaw our flesh, and taint our healthful bodies With ulcerous foulness, changing these fresh locks T' untimely white ; with trains of heavier woes Raised by the Furies from my father's blood, Who in the realms of night sees this, and bends His gloomy brows. For the dark shafts, that fly From those beneath slain by the kindred hand Of villain baseness, frenzy, and vain fear That trembles at the shadows of the night, Rouse, sting, and drive the vice-polluted wretch With brazen scourges tortured through the city. He from the friendly bowl, the hallowed goblet, The social intercourse, the incensed altar Is chased, condemned to bear the secret pangs Of inly-gnawing guilt : meanwhile the fiends, Hatred and infamy, pursue his steps, And drag him to an execrable death. Such was the voice of Phoebus, and demands My prompt obedience. Could my soul refuse I po THE CHOEPHOR&. T' obey the awful mandate, yet the deed Must be accomplished ; many urgencies Conspire ; the charges of the gods, the grief That wounds me for rny father, the fierce pangs Of penury compel me ; and the shame, That burns the generous soul, to leave my country, And all those heroes glorious through the world, Whose conquering arms laid Troy's proud towers in dust, Slaves to two women ; for his soul is woman : If not, th' occasion soon will prove his spirit. CHOR. And you, tremendous destinies, whose power Is ratified by Jove, mark the firm course Of justice, and by that direct th' tvent. Be th' insults of the hostile tongue repaid With hostile insults : justice calls aloud, Demanding vengeance : let the murd'rous blow, Requite the murd'rous blow. The solemn voice, Requiring that oppressive force should feel Oppressive force, is sanctified by age. ORES. O thou much injured shade, my suffering father, In thy dear cause what shall I say, what do, Guided by fortune hither ? Where, O where Is thy couch spread ? Our light is shaded o'er With darkness deep as thine ; our youthful graces, That in this royal house once bloomed with hope Fair opening, shrink at the rough blast of sorrow. CHOR. No : the devouring flames, my son, that waste The body of the dead, touch not the soul ; That lives, and knows its destined hour to show Its wrath : yet for the dead our sorrows rise. Meanwhile th' oppressor stands a signal mark ; And the just griefs of fathers and of sons With restless search trace all around for vengeance. ELEC. Hear me too, O my father ; in those griefs THE CHOEPHOR&. 191 Which at thy sepulchre thy children pour, I have a mournful part. Thy tomb receives Alike the suppliant and the exile. Which, Ah, which of these is well? Which without evils? No lenient hand can ease our miseries. CHOR. Yet may the god, that uttered from the shrine His awful voice, from these raise other sounds More pleasing ; and for these sepulchral notes, Notes steeped in tears, through all these royal rooms The voice of joy may ring, and hail their lord Returned to bless them with his kind protection. ELEC. Yet, O my father, hadst thou greatly fallen Beneath the walls of Troy, pierced by the spear Of some bold Lycian, leaving to thy house Thy glory, gracing with illustrious splendour Thy children's steps, on that barbaric coast The high-raised tomb had dignified thy dust, And soothed our sorrows. In the realms beneath, Thy friendly shade, amongst the friendly shades That fell with honour there, had held its state Majestic and revered, a king, next those Whose awful power those darksome realms obey. For to thy last of life thou wast a king, The golden reins of empire graced thy hands, And thy strong sceptre ruled a willing people. But in the fields of Troy thou didst not fall, Nor is thy tomb beside Scamander's stream With those that perished by the hostile spear. But, oh ! I wish that they, by whom he fell, Had first so fall'n ; and he, though distant far, Had heard the rumour of their bloody fate, Secure himself, nor tangled in their snares. CHOR. Treasures of gold, my child, are poor to this t Thy words are greater than the greatest fortune. 192 THE CHOEPHOR&. And all her favours : from thy grief they spring. But from this scourge a double clash is heard ; One from th' assistant powers beneath the earth ; One from those lords, those hated lords that rule us, Whose rude, unhallowed hands are stained with blood : This sounds most dreadful to this royal race. ELEC. This, like a piercing arrow, wounds my soul. CHOR. Supreme of gods, send from the realms of night The slow-avenging Ate ; bid her rise To blast the fraudful and audacious hands Of impious mortals ; for a father's wrongs She stamps her vengeance deep. When on this man The vengeful sword shall fall, and bleeding nigh Lies this bad woman, be it mine to hear Their shrieks of death, and answer to their cries In notes as dismal. Why should I conceal My honest hopes ? Fate spreads her sable wings, And hovers o'er their heads ; before their eyes Stands indignation armed, and hate enraged, Ready to rend their hearts, when Jove shall stretch His puissant hands. O thou, whose power subdues The mighty, to this country seal thy faith, And ratify their doom ! On th' impious heads I ask for vengeance. You, whose dreaded power Th' infernal realms revere, ye Furies, hear me ! There is a law that, for each drop of blood Shed on the earth, demands that blood be shed ; For, from the slain, Erinnys calls for slaughter, On ruin heaping ruin. Ye dread powers Of Hell's dark realms, where are you now ? Behold, Ye potent curses of the slain, behold The poor remains of this imperial house Sunk in distress, and all its glories vanished ! Where, King of Heaven, where may we seek for refuge ? THE CHOEPHOR^E. 193 ELEC. Again my throbbing heart sinks at the sound Of thy laments ; and dark'ning o'er my soul At thy sad voice *comes anguish and despair. But when thy words breathe courage, my sick griefs Are fled, and fairer fortune seems to smile. But with what words to woo her ? Speak aloud The miseries which we suffer from our parents? Or smooth our tongues to glozing courtesy ? That softens not our miseries : and our spirits, Roused by the wrongs of our ungentle mother, Contract a wolfish fierceness. With bold hand She struck the stroke, bold as the Cissian dame Trained to the warrior's arms. She struck him once ; Again she struck him ; her uplifted hands Redoubled blow on blow ; swift on his head The distant-sounding strokes with steep force fell. Bold unrelenting woman, that could bear Without one pitying sigh t' entomb the king Unhonoured with his people's grief, the husband Without a tear to grace his obsequies. ORES. All thou hast mentioned are indignities That swell my grief to rage. But vengeance arms This hand, assisted by the gods, to punish Th 1 ignominious wrongs done to my father, ^lay this revenge be mine, then let me die i ELEC. When she had killed, with barbarous hands she His manly figure, and with this abuse [mangled Entombed him here, studious to make his murder A deed of horror, that through all thy life Might shock thy soul. Such was thy father's death, Such were thy father's ignominious wrongs. But me, a poor, deserted, worthless thing, Spurned like a mischievous cur from my apartments, They bid begone : there I could heave the sigh 194 THE CHOEPHOR&. In secret, there indulge the mournful pleasure To pour the tear unnoticed, and unchecked. Hear this, and on thy mind imprint it deep, Engrave it on the tablet of thy heart ; Be resolute, and calm. These things are thus : Know this, and let thine indignation rise : The time demands a firm, determined spirit. And thou, my father, hear ; on thee I call, And with a friendly voice, though choked with tears, Hear us, and aid ! CHOR. And with a friendly voice this social train To her sad voice accords the strain. Hear, mighty shade, and from the realms of night Revisit this ethereal light ; Against thy foes impart thy aid, Be war with war, and blood with blood repaid ; Ye gods, with justice strike the blow 1 I tremble as the measures flow ; But fate attends, and hears our call, And, stern the bloody forfeit to demand, With fury arms the kindred hand, And bids the righteous vengeance fall. Here sorrow holds her dismal state. Unsated murder stains the ground, Revenge behind and terror wait, And desolation stalks his round ; Not with a distant foe the war to wage, But on this house to pour their rage. These are the strains, that to the gods below, Th' avenging gods, in rude notes flow : Hear us, dread powers ; and this imperial race, Victorious in your might, with glory grace ! ORES. My royal father, who unroyally Wast murdered, give me to command thy house ! THE CHOEPHOR&. 195 ELEC. Hear me, my father, for I want thy aid ; Grant me to share his vengeance on ygisthus, And then escape ; so may the solemn feast Be spread to thee ; else when the grateful odours Are wafted from the festive board, to grace The mighty dead, thy shade must want its honours. To thee this hand shall bring the costliest off rings, To thee shall consecrate whate'er of wealth Ought, from thy treasures, to adorn my nuptials ; And with the holiest reverence grace thy tomb. ORES. Earth, send my father to behold the combat ! ELEC. Inspire him, Proserpine, with glorious force ! ORES. Think on the bath where thou wast murdered, father ! ELEC. Think on the net in which they murdered thee ! ORES. Toils, other than of brass, entangle thee. ELEC. Th' inexplicable robe's accursed contrivance. ORES. My father, cannot these dishonours raise thee ? ELEC. Dost thou not raise thy honoured head ? O sei'*^ Justice to aid thy friends : or if thy soul Sinks with its wrongs, nor rises to avenge them, Be the like sufferings ours ! But, O .my father, Hear our last cries, and sitting on thy tomb Behold thy children : pity my weak sex, Pity his manly sorrow, nor extinguish Th' illustrious line of Pelops : so in death Thou dost not die ; for children, when the tomb Demands the parent, with surviving glory Preserve his fame ; the corks that buoy the line, And save the net from sinking to the bottom. O hear us ; for thy sake we pour these plaints. Thou shalt preserve thy glory, if with honour Thou hear our words, our blameless words, that honour The fortune of thy tomb, else unlamented 1 G 2 196 THE CHOEPHOR&. Now, brother, since thy soul is roused to dare This deed, trust on the god, and do it straight. ORES. I shall : but let me pause awhile to ask Wherefore she sent these off'rings, on what motive Thus late she soothes th' immedicable ill, Paying his wretched honour to the dead That cares not for it. What these presents mean Surpasses my conjecture, but her crime Outweighs their worth ; for all, that can be offered T' atone for one man's blood, is spent in vain. Yet, if you know, explain her motives to me. CHOR. I know, for I was present : dreams and visions, The terrors of the night appalled her soul ; Her guilty fears urged her to send these off'rings. ORES. Told she the dreams, that so alarmed her fears ? CHOR. She fancied she had giv'n a dragon birth. ORES. And what was the event ? Tell me in brief. CHOR. This new-born dragon, like an infant child Laid in the cradle seemed in want of food ; And in her dream she held it to her breast. ORES. Without ?. wound 'scaped she the hideous monster? CHOR. The milk he drew was mixed with clotted blood. ORES. 'Tis not for nought this vision from her husband, CHOR. She cried out in her sleep with the affright ; And many lamps, dim-gleaming the darkness, To do her pleasure entered the apartment. Soon to the tomb she sends these funeral honours. Medicinal, as she hopes to heal her ills. ORES. But to this earth, and to my father's tomb I make my supplications, that in me Her dream may be accomplished ; and I judge It aptly corresponds : for as thia serpent, Leaving the place that once was mine, and laid Swathed like an infant, seized that breast which nursed THE CHOEPHOR&. 197 My tender age, and mingled with the milk Drew clotted blood ; and as with the affright She called out in her sleep ; it cannot be, But as she nursed this monster, she must die A violent death ; and with a dragon's rage This hand shall kill her, as her dream declares, Or how wilt thou expound these prodigies ? CHOR. Thus may it be. But now instruct thy friends What each must singly do, and each not do. ORES. Few words suffice : then mark me: let HER enter; And keep, I charge thee, keep my purpose secret : That they, who slew an honourable man By cursed deceit, may by deceit be caught In the same snare, and perish ; so the god, Powerful Apollo, from whose sacred voice Nothing but truth can flow, admonished me. I, like a stranger, harnessed in this coarse And way-worn garb, with Pylades my friend, Will as a guest and friend knock at the gate : Our tongues shall imitate the rustic accent Familiar to the mountain-race of Phocis. Nor will the servants, 'tis a villanous house, Receive us cheerfully ; but as we are, There shall we stand ; while each that passes by, With shrewd remarks shall shake his head, and say, Why are these strangers thus inhospitably Excluded from the gates, if their arrival ^Egisthus knows 'midst his domestic train ? But if I pass the threshold of the gates, And find him seated on my father's throne, Or should he come t' accost me, be assured Quick as the eye can glance, ere he can say Whence is this stranger? my impatient sword Shall strike him dead. So shall the fell Erinnys, 198 THE CHOEPHOR&. That with a horrid joy riots in slaughter, Quaff this third bowl of blood. Go then, Electra, Be watchful : see that all things in the house Be well disposed. And you, I charge you guard Your tongues ; be silent where you ought, and where Your voice can aid me, speak. The rest, my friend, That guides my sword to vengeance, will o'ersee. CHORUS. Strophe i. Pregnant with ills the dreary air Gives sickness, pain, and terror birth : The seas that wind around the earth, Fatal to man their hideous monsters bear : Each forest in its shaggy sides, That darkens o'er the perilous ground, The lurking, rav'nous savage hides, Whilst fierce birds wheel the summits round : And mark with what tempestuous rage Black from the skies the rushing winds engage. Antistrophe i. But who the dangerous thoughts can tell That in man's daring bosom roll ; Or whirl the more tempestuous soul Of woman, when the tyrant passions swell ? When love, to torment near allied, Bids frenzy rule the troubled hour? Love, that exerts with wanton pride O'er female hearts despotic power ; And binds in his ungentle chain Each savage of the wood, each monster of the main, THE CHOEPHOR&. 199 Strophe 2. Think with what sullen frenzy fired The Thestian dame with ruthless hand : Cast on the hearth the fatal brand ; The flames consumed it, and her son expired. With horror think on Scylla's deed : To win the favour of the foes, The golden bracelets were the meed, Against her father's life she rose, Approached the sleeping monarch's bed, And reft the sacred honours of his head. AntistropJie 2. Amongst these deeds of blood, that stain The annals of the times of old, Be that unhallowed couch enrolled, Whose guilty loves this royal house profane. Enrolled be all that female hate Formed 'gainst the chief in arms renowned ; The chief, whose glorious, awful state Foes 'midst their rage with reverence owned : Those glories, though they blaze no more, Quenched by a woman's hand I still adore. Epode. In the black annals of far distant time The Lesbian dames recorded stand ; But the soul shudders at the crime, And execrates the murders of their hand : Basely at once the husbands bleed ; Th' indignant gods abhor the deed. And shall man dare with impious voice t' approve Deeds that offend the powers above ? 200 THE CHOEPHOR&. Through the gored breast With rage imprest The sword of justice hews the dreadful wound; Aud haughty might That mocks at right, Like the vile dust is trampled on the ground. Righteous are thy decrees, eternal king, And from the roots of justice spring : These shall strike deep, and flourish wide, Whilst all that scorn them, perish in their pride. Fate the portentous sword prepares, And the rough labours of the anvil shares ; Wide through the house a tide of blood Flows where a former tide had flowed ; Erinnys marks the destined hour, Vengeful her meditated rage to pour. ORES. What, does no servant hear me knock ? Within Who waits ? Again I knock : does no one hear ? A third time to the servants of this house I call, if to the stranger at his gate The great ^Egisthus bears a courteous soul. SER. Forbear ; I hear. Who art thou, and from whence ? ORES. Go tell the lords of this fair house, to them I come, charged with strange tidings : haste ; For now the sable chariot of the night Rolls on apace ; and the dark hour exhorts The way- spent traveller to repose beneath The hospitable roof. Call forth the matron, That has the charge of these domestic cares ; More decent, if a man ; for modesty There checks the falt'ring tongue, but to a man More confident a man speaks free and open. THE CHOEPHOR&. 201 CLYTEMNESTRA, ORESTES, PYLADES, ELECTRA, CHORUS. CLYTEMNESTRA. Speak, strangers, what your wants ; here shall you find All that becomes a house like this ; warm baths, Refreshment of your toils, the well-spread couch Inviting soft repose, and overall An eye regarding justice. If your business Be of more serious import, asking counsel, The province this of men ; we will inform them. ORES. A Phocian am I, from the town of Daulis. Occasions of my own called me to Argos, Nor asked a better dress, than this coarse garb Familiar to me ; onwards as I travelled I met a man unknown, myself to him Unknown ; he courteous questioned me how far I journeyed, and informed me of my way, Strophius of Phocis, so I chanced to learn ; Stranger, says he, since business of thy own Leads thee to Argos, let me charge thy honour To tell his parents that the young Orestes Is dead. Forget it not. Whether his friends With solemn obsequies will fetch him hence, Or in eternal rest our friendly earth Shall lay him in her hospitable bosom, Bring back their pleasure ; for the brazen urn Now holds the ashes of the honoured youth, Whom we lament. This, faithful to my charge, Have I delivered ; if to kindred ears, And those, whose power is sovereign here. I know not. But it is meet his parent knew th' event. ELEC. Ah me ! Thus desolation on our head Is fall'n. O thou relentless curse, whos (rage. Hung o'er this house, has thy unsparingeye 202 THE CHOEPHOR&. Marked what we lodged at distance, aiming there Thy cruel shafts, to rob me of my friends ? E'en now Orestes, who with cautious tread Had from this gulf of ruin freed his foot, E'en he, the hope medicinal to the madness , Of this ill house, shows that our hope betrays us. ORES. It were my wish to have borne other tidings, More welcome to the lords of this fair mansion, And meriting their hospitable favours : For what more strongly to benevolence Can bind the grateful soul ! Yet I should deem it An impious wrong not to disclose even these, Unwelcome, as they must be, to his friends, So solemnly intrusted to my charge. CLV. Not less for this shalt thou receive such usage A s thy worth challenges : not less for this Respected here : another would have come Charged with the same sad message. But the hour Demands refreshment for the stranger, spent With the long travel of the weaiy day. Lead him to those apartments, where the men Are well received ; let his attendant follow, His fellow-traveller ; let thy diligent care, I charge thee, minister to all his wants. We to the rulers of this house will bear These tidings, and amongst our friends consult What measures in this sad event to form. CHOR. \alone\ Now, my dear partners, slaves to this proud Now let us show our fortitude, now teach [house, Our tongues a noble daring for Orestes. Thou hallowed earth, thou hallowed mound, Whose high sepulchral round Lies on the royal chief, that o'er the main To glory led his martial train, THE CHOEPHOR^E. 203 Now hear us, now impart your aid : On this important hour, Persuasion, try thy fraudful power : And thou, through night's surrounding shade, Come, Mercury, from the shades below, And when the falchion flames, direct th' avenging blow ! SERVANT, GILISSA, CHORUS. SERVANT. This stranger, it should seem, brings mournful tidings ; I see the tear steal from Gilissa's eye, Nurse of Orestes. Wherefore dost thou pass These doors ? The sorrows that attend thy steps, Shall here find no reward : expect it not. GIL. My royal mistress ordered me with speed To call yEgisthus to these stranger guests ; That man from man he with more certainty Might learn this fresh report. Before the servants She kept her smile beneath a mournful eye, To hide her joy at this event ; to her A joy indeed, but to this house a tale Of deep affliction. He too, when he hears The narrative, will from his soul rejoice. Ah me ! what sorrows in successive train Have in this house of Atreus pierced my soul From ancient times : but never have I suffered A loss like this : with patience other ills, Well as I might, I bore. But my Orestes Was the dear object of my anxious thoughts ; An infant I received him from his mother ; I nursed him, many a night to all his wants, To all his cries attentive, with a care That now avails me not : ere reason dawns, The nurse's care is needful ; in his cradle 204 THE CHOEPHORsE. The infant knows not to express his wants, Rise they from thirst, or hunger, or the calls Of nature : with fond diligence I marked Th' instinctive cry, nor with a squeamish niceness Thought scorn of any office ; for my love Made all delightful. Now, unhappy me ! My dear Orestes is, I hear, no more. But I am sent in haste to that vile man, Whose rank pollution stains this noble house : With pleasure this report will he receive. CHOR. With what appointment does she bid him come ? GIL. Appointment ! Let rno comprehend thy meaning. CHOR. If with his train of guards, or unattended. GIL. She bids him come attended with his guards. CHOR. No, tell him not, this hated lord ; but wear A face of cheerfulness ; and urge him hither Alone, devoid of fear, to be informed. For the mind catches from the messenger A secret elevation, and bold swell. GIL. This news, it seems, is welcome to thy soul. CHOR But what if Heaven's high King redress these ills ? GIL. How? With Orestes all our hopes are dead. CHOR. Not all. This needs no prophet to unfold it. GIL. Hast thou heard aught disproving this report ? CHOR. Go, bear thy message; do as thou art ordered; The gods, whose care this is, will guide th' event. GIL. I go, in all observant of thy precepts, May what is best come from the fav'ring gods ! CHORUS. Strophe. Now my righteous prayer approve, Father and King of gods, Olympian Jove ! THE CHOEPPIOR&, 20= To thee may I unfold Such vows, as from the modest and the wise In the cause of justice rise. Oh, may these eyes behold Her power, adored by all, maintain The glories of her awful reign ! Hear me, monarch of the sky, Protect him with thy guardian care ; O'er his foes exalt him high, That lord it in the regal chair ! His ruined honours thus restored, With fiercer rage thy vengeance shall be poured. Antistrophe. Yoked to affliction's iron car This orphan son of a loved father spare : Restrain its headlong force ; And let the rapid wheels, with many a bound Rolling o'er the rugged ground, Here stop their painful course. And you that guard this royal seat, Its blazing wealth, its gorgeous state, Hear, propitious gods, and save ! Let not the blood of former slain Fresh returns of vengeance crave ; No more these crimsoned mansions stain : Slaughter no more from slaughter rise, If low beneath the righteous sword he lies ! Monostrophe. Thou, that hast fixed thy dreary reign Deep in the yawning gulf below, Yet let him rise, yet view this scene, Around his gloomy eyeballs throw, o6 THE CHOEPHOR&. Distinct and clear the vengeance mark, That threatens from her covert dark ! Thou, son of Maia, come, and with thee lead Success, that crowns the daring deed : To form the close and dark design, Whether th' ambiguous tale thou lov'st to weave, And throw around the veil of night ; Or bid'st ev'n truth itself deceive, Displayed in all the dazzling blaze of light ; The powers of secrecy are thine. Then shall this pensive female train These rich oblations pay no more; No more the melancholy strain, Tuned to the voice of anguish, pour, Raptured their triumph shall I see, My friends from ruffian danger free. And thou, when thy stern part is come, be bold Think how in blood thy father rolled : And when, " my son, my son," she cries, To melt thy manly mind with plaintive moan, Then to her guilty soul recall Thy murdered father's dying groan ; And to his angry vengeance let her fall : Like Perseus turn thy ruthless eyes ; Just to thy friends above, thy friends below, Aim with applauded rage the destined wound ; Great in thy vengeance rush upon the foe, And strike the murd'rer bleeding to the ground. GILISSA, CHORUS. ^GISTHUS. This message has a voice, that calls me forth To learn with more assurance this report, By certain strangers brought, touching the death Of young Orestes ; most unwelcome this ; THE CHOEPHOR&. 207 And the relation to this house will add Fresh terror to the fear, whose unhealed wound Smarts inwardly, and rankles. Should I give Full credit to this tale, or rather deem it The idle offspring of these women's fears, That lightly rose, and will as lightly die ? Tell me, what proof gives credit to this rumour ? GIL. Indeed we heard it : but go in, examine These strangers ; less regard is due to rumour, Than to clear information learnt from them. JEcis. I wish to see this stranger, and to ask him If he himself was present at his death, Or only speaks from an obscure report. Deception finds no easy entrance here. CHOR. What should I say, eternal King, Or how begin the strain ? These passions how contain, That in my throbbing breast tumultuous spring ? O that, in aid, my daring deed Might all the force of words exceed ! For now distained with blood the bick'ring sword The contest ends ; if all This royal race shall fall ; Or the just laws their ancient state resuming, And liberty her light reluming, Hail to his father's rights the son restored. 'Gainst two fierce wolves the youth contesting stands Alone : may heaven-sent conquest grace his hands ! JEGis. \within\ Oh ! I am slain. CHOR. That groan ! Again that groan ! Whence ? What is done ? Who rules the storm within ? The deed is finished : let us keep aloof, And seem unconscious of these ills : best stand At distance, whilst destruction ends her work. 208 THE CHOEPHOR&. SER. Woe, woe to me ! Woe to my slaughtered lord ! Woe on my wretched head, and woe again ! ^Egisthus is no more. But open here, Ye females, instantly unbar these doors ; Th' occasion calls for vigour, not t' assist The slain. Ho, here ! What, call I to the deaf? Or sleep you ? Where is Clytemnestra ? How Employed ? Her life stands at the sword's bare point, And ready vengeance seems to prompt the blow. CLYTEMNESTRA, SERVANT, CHORUS. CLYTEMNESTRA. What means thy clamour? Whence these shrieks of woe ? SER. They that were rumoured dead have slain the living. CLY. Ah me ! I understand thee, though thy words Are dark ; and we shall perish in the toils, E'en as we spread them. Give me instantly The slaught'ring axe ; it shall be seen if yet We know the way to conquer, or are conquered : These daring measures have my wrongs enforced. ORESTES, PYLADES, CLYTEMNESTRA, CHORUS. ORESTES. Thee too I seek. He has his righteous meed CLY. Ah me ! my dear ^Egisthus,* thou art dead. ORES. And dost thou love the man ? In the same tomb Shalt thou be laid, nor ev'n in death forsake him. CLY. Ah, stay thy hand, my son : my child, my child, Revere this breast, on which thou oft hast slept, And oft thy infant lips have pressed its milk. ORES. What shall I do, my Pylades ? Restrained By filial reverence, dread to kill my mother ? PYL. Where then the other oracles of Phoebus, Given from the Pythian shrine ? The faithful vows, The solemn adjurations, whither vanished ? Deem all the world thy foes, save the just gods,. THE CHOEPHOR&. 209 ORES. Thou hast convinced me ; thy reproois are just. Follow him : on his body will I slay thee. Alive thou heldst him dearer than my father ; Then sleep with him in death, since thou couldst love him, And hate the man who most deserved thy love. CLY. I nursed thy youth, and wish to tend thy age. ORES. What, shall my father's murd'rer dwell with me ? CLY. The Fates, my son, the Fates decreed his death. ORES. And the same Fates decree that thou shalt die. CLY. Dost thou not dread a mother's curse, my son ? ORES. That mother cast me out to want and misery. CLY. Not so ; I sent thee to a friendly house. ORES. Though nobly born, a slave, and doubly sold. CLY. What in exchange, what price did I receive ? ORES. I blush to charge thee with the guilty price. CLY. Blush not ; but with it name thy father's lightness. ORES. Sitting in wanton ease, blame not his toils. CLY. Barred from our husbands, irksome are our hours- ORES. Yet in your ease your husbands' toils support you. CLY. My son, my son, thou wilt not kill thy mother ! ORES. Thy hand, not mine, is guilty of thy death. CLY. Take heed; avoid a mother's angry Furies. ORES. Relaxing here, how shall 1 'scape my father's ? CLY. Methinks while yet alive before my tomb I pour the funeral strain, that nought avails me. ORES. Nought : for my father's fate ordains thy death. CLY. Ah me ! I gave this dragon birth, I nursed him : These terrors of the night were more than phantoms. ORES. Foul and unnatural was thy murd'rous deed : Foul and unnatural be thy punishment. CHOR. \alone\ The double ruin ev'n of these awakes Our grief. But since his cruel fate has plunged Orestes deep in blood, pour we the prayer That his fair day set not in. endless night, a 10 THE CHOEPHOR&. Strophe. Revenge at length is come, though slow her pace, For Priam's ruined race. In Agamemnon's royal hall, Roused by the Pythian god's inspiring call, The glorious exile stands ; With lion port, with martial mien, Such as the god of war is seen, The sword of justice light'ning in his hands, Fired by the prompting voice divine, That thundered from the shrine, Dauntless he dared these dangerous courts to tread. Hark ! 'tis his voice : the walls around His cheerful shouts resound : No more the tyrants' malice shall he dread ; The tyrants' lavish hands no more Shall waste his treasured store ; No more their pride usurp his throne, Low in the dust their hostile pride o'erthrovvn. Antistrophe. With dark and secret fraud HIS coward mind The bloody deed designed. Revenge, with solemn steps and slow Advancing, meditates the secret blow ; Daughter of Heaven's high lord, Though by the name of Justice known Her sovereign power weak mortals own, She guides his hand, she points his thund'ring sword ; And rushing with impetuous might Assists him in the fight, Breathing destructive fury on his foes. Nor less 'gainst HER whose treacherous hand This injured house profaned, THE CHOEPHORsE. 211 From his deep shrine with fury Phoebus glows. For ev'n the gods with sacred awe Revere this righteous law, To spurn the guilt that asks their aid : And be this Heaven-commanding law obeyed. Epode. Cheerful the light begins to rise. Sunk was our sun, and long in darkness lay, Nor promised the return of day : Soon may his beams revisit our sad eyes! When these cleansed floors no more retain Polluting murder's sanguine stain, Time haply may behold his orient rays O'er these illumined turrets blaze ; And fortune, mounted on her golden seat, Rejoice in our triumphant State, Rejoice to see our glories rise, And our unclouded sun flame o'er the sapphire skies. ORESTES, CHORUS. ORESTES. Behold the proud oppressors of my country, The murderers of my father, the destroyers Of his imperial house : commanding awe When seated on their thrones, retaining yet Their loves, of their affection if with truth Hence we conjecture aught, and their oath stands Inviolate ; for to my father's death They formed th' unhallowed compact, and to die Together : these events confirm their oath. Behold again, you that attentive mark These ills, behold this artifice, the toils That tangled hand and foot my suffring father. This was his vestment ; form a ring around it, 12 THE CHOEPHORM. Spread it, display it to th all-seeing sun, That with his awful eye he may behold My mother's impious deeds, and in the hour Of judgment be my witness that with justice My vengeance fell on her. As for ^Egisthus, I reck not of his death ; a sacred law He dared pollute ; and justly has he paid The dreadful penalty. She 'gainst her husband, Once the dear object of her love, to which Her swelling zone bore many a precious pledge, Now flamed with ranc'rous hate, and murd'rous malice, What noxious monster, what envenomed viper, That poisons with a touch th' unwounded body, E'er breathed such pestilent and baleful rage ? You view that vestment : tell me now, were all The powers of language mine, what should I call it ? Toils planted for a savage ? Or the bands That for the tomb enwrap the dead ? A curse Well may you call it, and the gives of Hell. Such may the pilferer wear, the thievish slave That pillages his guests, and trains his life ^ To plunder ; such the ruffian, whose rude hand Piompted to murd'rous deeds is stained with blood. Never, ye gods, may such a woman share My bed : no. rather childless let me perish ! CIIOR. O horror, horror i Dreadful were your deeds, And dreadful is your death ; the ling'ring vengeance Burst with redoubled force. This was her deed, Her cursed deed ; this vestment is my witness, Tinged by ^Egisthus' sword ; the gushing blood, Now stiffened, stains its Tynan-tinctured radiance. Now I applaud his just revenge ; now weep, Viewing this bloody robe, and mourn these deeds, The suffrings of this house, and e'en this conquest, THE CHOEPI10R&. Dreadful atonement ! Never shall the life Of mortal man be passed uncharged with ills : On some with rapid rage the tempest rolls ; Slowly on some the gath'ring clouds advance. ORES. Be that another's care ; I see the doom Assigned to me. For as the rapid car Whirled from, the course by the impetuous steeds That scorn the reins, so my exulting heart Bounds with tumultuous and ungoverned passions. Yet let me plead, whilst reason holds its seat, Plead to my friends that in the cause of justice I slew my mother ; for her impious hands, Stained with my father's blood, called down revenge From the offended gods. And here I plead, To mitigate the deed, the Pythian prophet, Phcebus, whose voice pronounced me from the shrine, If I achieved the vengeance, free from guilt ; To my refusal dreadful was his threat Of punishments, beyond the reach of thought. Graced with this branch of olive, and this wreath, I will approach his shrine, his central throne, And his eternal fires, there to be cleansed From the pollution of this kindred blood : No other roof receives me ; so the god Enjoined. Meanwhile let Argos be informed, And all this people witness what a weight Of miseries oppressed me , dead or living, A vagrant, and an exile from my country, I leave these words behind me ; having done What honour gave in charge, I shall not blush Hearing my fame reviled, nor bear in absence The tongue of obloquy, the State of Argos Freed by this hand, that boldly crushed these dragons. Ha*! look, ye female captives, what are these 214 THE CHOEPHOR&. Vested in sable stoles, of Gorgon aspect, Their starting locks tangled with knots of vipers ! I fly, I fly ; I cannot bear the sight. CHOR. What phantoms, what unreal shadows thus Distract thee ? Victor in thy father's cause, To him most dear, start not at fancied terrors. ORES. These are no phantoms, no unreal shadows ; I know them now ; my mother's angry Furies. CHOR. The blood as yet is fresh upon thy hands, And thence these terrors sink into thy soul. ORES. Royal Apollo, how their numbers swell ! And the foul gore drops from their hideous eyes. CHOR. Within are layers. Soon as thou shalt reach His shrine, Phoebus will free thee from these ills. ORES. And see you nothing there ? Look, look ! 1 see them. Distraction's in the sight ! I fly, fly ! CHOR. Blest may'st thou be : and may the god whose eye Looks on thee, guard thee in these dreadful dangers ! Thrice on this royal house the bursting storm Hath poured its rage in blood. Thyestes first Mourned for his slaughtered sons. Th' imperial lord, The leader of the martial hosts of Greece, Next fell beneath the murd'ring sword, and stained Th' ensanguined bath. Then came th' intrepid youth Armed with the sword of Freedom should I say, Or Fate ? How long shall vengeance pour her terrors ? When curb her fiery rage, and sleep in peace ? THE FURIES, IT is pleasant enough to observe with what heat the critics rise against this tragedy. C'est si bizarre. L'unite de lieu n'est pas gardee dans cette piece : mais ce n'est pas-la qui cheque le plus. Tota ceconomia dramatis impia est et inepta. Hie uno momento tola scense facies mutatur, et pro Delphis ac templo Apollinis Delphici habemus Athenas et templum Minervae Athenis. Nihil ineptius aut incon- cinnius excogitari posset The poet, it seems, had dared to violate the unities ; and further, has introduced personages of so extravagant a character as to baffle the skill of these literary martinets, and to whip them from their foining fence ; hinc illse lachrymse. ^Eschylus in all his other pieces that remain to us, has paid the strictest attention to these favourite unities ; and with reason ; he was their father, and knew their merit as well as any man : even here, where his management of the subject led him to treat them with less respect, he has softened the violation by a kind of magic power. Apollo and the Furies must be allowed the liberty to transport themselves whither and when they please : and Mercury has the charge of conducting Orestes ; so that had Horace wrote, Ille per extentum funem mihi posse videtur Ire poe'ta, meum qui pectus inaniter angit, 216 THE FURIES. Inritat, mulcet, falsis terroribus implet Ut magus ; et modo me DELPHIS, modo ponit Athenis, the allusion would have added a wonderful propriety to the expression, and the lines have conveyed a just character of this tragedy. However a French or a Dutch critic may be shocked at this change of scene, to an Athenian nothing could be more agreeable than to see a contest, which Apollo could not compose at Delphos, brought before the great council of his own city, the god in person attending and pleading in the cause. That respect to his country, which distinguishes our noble poet above all the writers of antiquity, has an irresistible charm. "Rules, art, decorum, all fall before it. It .goes directly to the heart, and gains all pur- poses at once." The English reader feels this in its full force, and ^Eschylus is acquitted of the charge of having violated a unity. As these dreadful sisters were the minis- ters of the offended gods, to execute their vengeance on impious mortals stained with blood, just, impartial, and of resistless power, they were held in the highest reverence : as they were cruel, implacable, and delighted with their terrible office, they were detested, and abhorred by gods and men : this accounts for the very different treatment they here meet with. For the rest, let P. Brumoy be the poet's advocate. "On sent assez que les traits rude et un pen grossiers de cette piece sont fort opposes a notre gout, et au vray gout du theatre. Mais il ne faut pas con fond re parmi ces traits, ce qui regarde uniquement les mceurs et les idees des Grecs. Le ronflement des Furies, et ce spectacle des monstres difformes, ne vaut du tout rien. C( pendant, comme c'etoient des Divinites respectable pour les, Grecs, ils les voyoient avec d'autre yeux que nous. A plis forte raison devoient-ils etre moins choques de voir Apollon plaider pour Oreste, et Minerve jouer le role qu'elle joue. Tout cela toit dans leur genie ; et il est necessaire THE FURIES. 3*7 qu'on s'en rapproche autant qu'il est possible, pour ne pas trouver ridicule une tragedie qui ne 1'etoit certainement pas au gout du peuple LE PLUS POLI DE L'UNIVERS." Had these critics explained the motives which induced this venerable court to acquit Orestes, from the laws and usages of ancient times, they would have been better employed : but not a word of this. This curious inquiry was reserved for a writer of a very different genius ; and the reader will thank me for referring him to the notes on the Epistle to the Pisos, v. 127. This foul sisterhood on the Athenian stage amounted to fifty: the consternation arising from their hideous figures, and gestures, and yellings, had such fatal effects upon the children et les femmes enceintes, that the State by an express law reduced the number of the Chorus to fifteen, and afterwards to twelve. But the translator dares assure the English ladies, for whom he has too great a respect to offer them anything that can have the least tendency to hurt them, that they may read this play with the utmost safety. These ancient virgins are, to be sure, at first a little wayward, and rather outrageous ; but they soften by degrees, till they become perfectly good-humoured, and the best company in the world. He flatters himself that he needs not make any apology for passing so slightly over ces ronflements redoubles des Furies, which are marked with great exactness in the original ; nor for an omission of somewhat a similar nature in the last scene of the " Persians," He has taken the liberty to change the position of a few lines, where the Furies quit the temple of Apollo : which to him appeared necessary. 218 THE FURIES. PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. THE PYTHIAN PRIESTESS. APOLLO. MINERVA. THE GHOST OF CLYTEMNESTRA. ORESTES. CHORUS, THE FURIES. SCENE, the Vestibule of the Temple of the Pythian Apollo. THE PRIESTESS. WITH reverence first to th' Earth I pray these vows, The first prophetic power : to Themis next, Who next her mother held, they say, this seat Oracular : Titanian Phoebe then, She too the daughter of the Earth, unforced Assumed this seat ; to Phoebus at his birth Rich gifts, in honour of the day, she brought, And graced him with her name ; the Delian rock, The lake he left, and anchored in the port Sacred to Pallas : thence to this fair region, And high Parnassus, held his solemn march : Attendant on his state the sons of Vulcan With reverend awe prepare his way, and tame The rude and savage earth; the joyful people Hail his arrival, and the sceptred Delphus, Lord of this realm, adored the passing god : With his own sacred skill high Jove inspired His raptured soul, and placed him on his throne, The fourth prophetic god, whence now he gives His father's oracles : to these I raise My first-breathed vows. Nor less Pronsean Pallas Demands her meed of praise. Next I adore The nymphs, that in Corycia's caverned rocks Loved haunt of soaring birds, in rustic state Have fixed their residence ; though Bacchus claims THE FURIES. 2l ^ The rude domain : my memory now recalls With what a port he led his raging nymphs To havoc, when devoted Pentheus fled Affrighted, as a hare before his hunters. The fountains next of Plistus, and the power Of Neptune I invoke ; and lastly thee, Supreme, all -perfect Jove ! These rites performed, As priestess of the shrine I reassume My sacred seat. Frequented as of old Be this oracular fane ; and may the gods Grant me auspicious answers : if from Greece Th' inquirers, pleased return they with the Fa{es ! But my voice utters, what the god inspires. [S/ie enters the Temple and returns affrighted. Things horrible to tell, and horrible To sight, have forced me from the fane again : Trembling with fear my lax limbs ill support My frame, save that my hands with eager grasp Uphold my sinking weakness as I pass. As to the shrine with many a garland crowned I bend my age-enfeebled steps, beneath The central dome I see a man abhorred By the just gods, a suppliant it should seem, For such his posture ; but his hands are stained With blood, in one he holds a new-drawn sword, High in the other crowned with ample wreaths An olive branch, with wreaths of snowy wool Handsomely wrought ; thus far I speak assured. Before him lies a troop of hideous women Stretched on the seats, and sleeping ; yet not women, But Gorgons rather, nor the Gorgon form Exactly representing, as I have seen them Drawn by the painter's imitative pencil, Snatching the viands fcom the board of Phineus. 22G THE FURIES. These have not wings, but clothed in sable stoles, Abhorred and execrable ; as they sleep Hoarse in their hollow throats their harsh breath rattles, And their galled eyes a rheumy gore distil. Ill suit such loathsome weeds the hallowed fane Graced with the forms of sculptured gods, ill suit The roofs of men ; so foul a sisterhood Till now I never saw, no land can boast To have produced a breed so horrible, But toils, and groans, and mischiefs must ensue. But here Apollo reigns ; his awful power Guards his'ow/i fane, auspicious to disclose The dark decrees of fate, to spread the glow Of vig'rous health, to breath th' ambrosial gales And chase from other mansions all that hurts. [The Temple opens. APOLLO is seen. ORESTL.S as a suppliant. The FURIES in a deep sleep. APOL. No : I will not forsake thee : to the end My guardian care shall favour and assist thee Present, or distant far : but to thy foes I know not mercy. See this grisly troop, Sleep has oppressed them, and their baffled rage Shall fail, grim-visaged hags, grown old In loathed virginity : nor god. nor man Approached their bed, nor savage of the wilds ; For they were born for mischiefs, and their haunts In dreary darkness 'midst the yawning gulfs Of Tartarus beneath, by men abhorred, And by th' Olympian gods. Fly then, nor yield To weak distrust ; they, be thou sure, will follow With unremitting chase thy flying steps Wide wand'ring o'er the firm terrene, and o'er The humid sea, and wave -surrounded towns. But faint thou not, sink not beneath thy toils ; THE FUPIES. 22 1 Fly to the city of Minerva, take Thy suppliant seat, with reverence in thy arms Grasp her time-honoured image. Holding there Concordant counsels, lenient of these ills, We shall not want the means to heal thy pains, And ratify thy peace : for at my bidding Thy sword is purple with thy mother's blocd. ORES. Tis not unknown to thee, royal Apollo, That 1 have done no deed of base injustice ; This known, forsake not, slight not my just cause ; Strong is thy power, and faithful to defend. APOL. Remember ; let not fear unman thy mind. And thou, my brother, by our ties of blood, Our common parent, I adjure thee, Mercury, Protect him ; rightly if the name of guide Be thine, be thou his guide : defend my suppliant ; For Jove with reverence looks on mortal man, That awfully reveres our guiding power. [To the FURIES sleeping. THE GHOST OF CLYTEMNESTRA. What, can you sleep ? Is this a time to indulge Your indolent repose ? Through your neglect I am dishonoured 'mongst the dead, reviled, For that I slew him with incessant taunts, And wander with disgrace : this infamy, I tell you, is through you : my horrid sufferings, From those most dear to me, excite no anger Of one offended god ; yet I was slain By my son's hand. With thy mind's eye behold These wounds : in sleep the vig'rous soul, set free From gross corporeal sense, with keener view Looks through the fate of mortals, dimly seen Through the day's troubled beam. Oft have ye tasted 222 THE FURIES. My temperate off'rings mixed with fragrant honey, Grateful libations : oft the hallowed feast Around my hearth, at midnight's solemn hour, When not a god shared in your rites ; but this, All this I see disparaged now, and scorned ; And he is fled, light as the bounding roe, Burst from your nets, with many a bitter scoff. Hear me, O hear ! 'tis for my soul's repose I plead : rouse your keen sense, infernal powers, 'Tis Clytemnestra calls you in your dreams. Deep is your sleep; meanwhile he distant flies : I ask your aid ; else not a suppliant comes To interrupt your rest ; supine you lie In dead repose, nor pity my afflictions ; Meanwhile Orestes flies ; shall he escape, The murderer of his mother ? Sound thy sleep, And loud thy deep-drawn breath. Hast thou e'er done Aught but fell deeds of mischief? Rouse, awake ; The terrors of the dragon lose their force, Quenched in the dark profound of toil and sleep. CHOR. [asleep] Seize him there, seize him, seize him, take good heed. CLY. In dreams dost thou pursue him, like the hound That opens in his sleep, on th' eager chase Ev'n then intent. And is this all ? Awake, Arise : let not thy toil subdue thee ; know What loss ensues if sleep enfeebles thee ; And let these just reproaches sting thy mind, Incentives to the wise : with fiery breath, That snuffs the scent of blood, pursue this son, Follow him, blast him in the prosp'rous chase. CHOR. [awaking] Awake, arise : rouse her as I rouse thee. THE FURIES. 223 Yet dost thou sleep ? Leave thy repose ; arise : Look we if this firm guard hath been in vain. Ha, sisters, ha ! 'tis base, 'tis foul ; Vain is our labour, vain our care : This insult stings my tortured soul, Untaught contempt and wrong to bear. Whilst overpowered with sleep I lay, Burst from the net escapes the prey. Great triumph, treach'rous son of Jove, In youth's fresh prime to mock my age ! Thee could this impious suppliant move (And thou a god) whose cruel rage Plunged in his mother's breast his sword ? Yet thou hast screened the wretch abhorred. Clashing her scourge with hideous sound Reproach upon my slumbers stole ; Deep in my heart impressed the wound, Ev'n yet chill horror shakes my soul. These are the deeds in misrule's hour When youthful gods usurp the power. See all defiled with gore thy throne, There sate the murderer dropping blood. Yet these pollutions are thy own ; From thee the call, the impulse flowed : Such grace, despised th' age-honoured Fates, Your new unhallowed shrines awaits. And shall this wretch in safety breathe, Screened by thy power severe to me ; No : let him fly the earth beneath, Never, he never shall be free : No : as he dared this murd'rous deed, Murder shall fall upon his head. 224 THE FURIES. APOL. Hence, I command you, from my hallowed seat Be gone with speed ; quit this oracular shrine : This is no place to snatch your winged serpents, And hurl them from your golden-twisted string, To wing the black blood from the human heart With torture, then disgorge your horrid feast Of clotted gore : such guests my house abhors. Begone where vengeance with terrific rage Digs out the eyes, or from the mangled trunk Remorseless rends the head ; to slaughters go, Abortions, lurking ambush, rampired force, To suff rings, to impalements, where the wretch Writhes on the stake in tortures, yelling loud, With many a shriek : in feasts like these, ye hags Abhorred, is your delight ; sufficient proof That execrable form ; the desert wild, Where the blood-rav'ning lion makes his den, Such should inhabit ; nor with impure tread Pollute these golden shrines : begone, and graze Without a keeper ; for of such a herd Th' indignant gods disdain to take the charge. CHOR. Now, royal Phoebus, hear me speak : in this Not an associate art thou, but alone Thou didst this deed, and thine alone the blame. APOL. Why this to me ? Inform me ; but be brief. CHOR. Thy voice, pronounced from this oracular shrine. Enjoined this wretch to shed his mother's blood. APOL. Enjoined him to avenge his father's death. CHOR. To this strange murder promised thy protec- tion. APOL. I charged him to seek refuge in this shrine. CHOR. But these attendants thou with taunts insultest. APOL. Unworthy they t' approach this sacred seat. CHOR. Such was our charge : we come not uncommaaded. THE FURIES.. 2?5 APOL. What is that honour ? Make the glorious boast CHOR. To drive the murd'rers of their mothers hence. APOL. What, fav'ring her, whose bold hand slew her husband ? CHOR. Nor should his hands be stained with kindred blood. APOL. The sacred pledges of connubial Juno And Jove hast thou disparaged, set at nought; And Venus is disparaged by thy words. From whom the dearest joys, that sweeten life, Arise ; for hallowed is the nuptial bed, Of deeper sanctity than oaths, and guarded By justice. If to those, whose mutual rage Bathes in each other's blood, thy chast'ning hand Is gentle ; if thine eye looks milder on them, Nor flames with wrath ; unjustly does thy vengeance Pursue Orestes ; such I now behold Thy threat'ning mien, to others more benign. But Pallas, righteous queen, shall judge this cause. CHOR. But never, never will I quit this man. APOL. Pursue him then ; to toil add fruitless toil. CHOR. Think not thy words shall make my rage relent. APOL. Shall thy rage touch him ? No; I brook it not. CHOR. At Jove's high throne thou art reputed great : Yet, since a mother's blood calls loud for vengeance, My keen pursuit shall trace him step by step. APOL. To me his vows are paid ; I will assist, And set him free ; for dreadful were the wrath 'Mongst gods and men, should I betray my suppliant. CHOR. That moves not me. These are his marks; observe them, Unerring guides, though tongueless : follow, follow, And. like the hound that by the drops of blood Traces the wounded hind, let us pursue him, H 226 THE FURIES. The Scene changes to the Temple of Minerva at Athens. ORESTES. Hither, divine Minerva, by the mandate Of Phoebus am I come. Propitious power, Receive me by the Furies' torturing rage Pursued, no vile unhallowed wretch, nor stained With guilty blood, but worn with toil, and spent With many a painful step to other shrines, And in the paths of men. By land, by sea Wearied alike, obedient to the voice, The oracles of Phoebus, I approach Thy shrine, thy statue, goddess ; here to fix My stand, till judgment shall decide my cause. \Here the FURIES enter. CHOR, These toils oppress me, as with breathless haste I urge the keen pursuit : o'er the long tract Of continent, and o'er th' extended ocean, Swift as the flying ship I hold my course, Though on no pennons borne. There, there he stands, His speed outstripping mine. Have I then found thee ? With joy I sniff the scent of human blood. Take heed, take heed ; keep careful watch ; nor let This murderer of his mother once more 'scape, By secret flight, your vengeance : trembling, weak, He hangs upon the image of the goddess, And wishes to be cleared of his base deeds. It may not be ; no : when the fluent moisture Is sunk into the ground, 'tis lost for ever : Can then a mother's blood, spilt on the earth, Be 'from the earth recovered ? No. Thy hour Of suffering is arrived, the hour that gives The purple stream, that warms thy heart, to quench My thirst, which burns to quaff thy blood, and bend To the dark realms below thy wasted limbs ; THE FURIES. 227 There, for thy mother's murder, shalt thou learn To taste of pain ; there see whatever mortal Dared an injurious deed, profaned the gods, Attacked with ruffian violence the stranger, Or raised his impious hand against a parent, Each with vindictive pains condemned to groan, His crimes requiting ; for beneath the earth The awful judge of mortals, Pluto sits, And with relentless justice marks their deeds. ORES. Trained in affliction's rigid lore, I know Many ablutions : when to speak I know When to be silent : inspiration now, With heavenly wisdom prompts my tongue to plead. The faded blood is vanished from my hands, Nor from my mother's slaughter leaves a stain ; The recent crimson at Apollo's shrine Washed off with lavers pure, with offered victims Atoned. This honest prelude might be graced With many an argument : nor came I hither Consorted with a vile and impious band. All things with time grow old, and wear away. And now from hallowed lips my pious prayer Invokes the power presiding o'er this realm, Royal Minerva, that she haste to aid Her suppliant : so with voluntary zeal Myself, my country, all the Argive people, To her with justice I devote for ever. If in the coasts of Libya, on the banks Of Triton, native stream, she sets her foot Or bare, or buskined, prompt to aid her friends $ If o'er the plains of Phlegra, like a chief That marshals his bold troops, she darts her eye, Her presence I implore ; though distant far, The goddess hears ; to free me from these ills. n 2 228 THE FURIES. CHOR. No : not Apollo, nor Minerva's power Shall set thee free, but that an abject outcast Thou drag thy steps, seeking in vain to find Rest to thy joyless soul, exhausted, worn, A lifeless shadow. Yet thy pride replies not, Me, and my threats despising, though to me Devoted, my rich victim, and alive To feed my rage, not offered on the altar. Hear now the potent strain, that charms thee mine. Prosode. Quickly, sisters, stand around, Raise your choral warblings high ; Since, the guilty soul to wound, Swells the horrid harmony. Since to mortal man we show How we give his fate to flow ; Since our will his doom ordains, Show that justice 'mongst us reigns. , He, whose hands from guilt are pure, Stands in innocence secure ; And from youth to honoured age Fears not our vindictive rage. To the wretch, that strives to hide Ruffian hands with murder dyed, Clothed in terrors we appear, Unrelentingly severe ; And, faithful to the injured dead, Pour our vengeance on his head. Strophe i. Hear me, dread parent, sable-vested Night, O hear th' avenger of each impious deed ; THE FURIES* 329 Whether we lie in shades concealed Or to the eye of day revealed ! Seest thou how Phoebus robs me of my right From my just rage the trembling victim freed, Destined his mother's death t' atone, And for her blood to shed his o\vn ! O'er my victim raise the strain, And let the dismal sound His tortured bosom wound, And to frenzy fire his brain. Silent be the silver shell, Whilst we chant the potent spell ; Then yelling bid th' infernal descant roll, To harrow up his soul. Antistrophe i. Avenging Fate, as bending o'er the loom She wove the web, to us this part assigned, " Whoe'er the laws shall dare disdain, And his rude hand with murder stain, Pursue him, Furies, urge his rigorous doom, Till refuge in the realms below he find." Ev'n there not free ; my chastening power Pursues him to that dreary shore. O'er my victim raise the strain, And let the dismal sound His tortured bosom wound, And to frenzy fire his brain. Silent be the silver shell, Whilst we chant the potent spell ; Then yelling bid th ; infernal descant roll, To harrow up his soul. Strophe 2. This task assigned us at our natal hour, Far from th' immortal gods our steps we bend : 230 THE FURIES. Nor welcome at the social feast, Nor honoured with a splendent vest j For mine I proudly claim the dreadful power From its firm base the ruined house to rend, When in calm peace its ruthless lord Distains with a friend's blood his sword. Him, though strong, we rush to seize j And for the new-poured blood Demand his purple flood, Glorying in the sacrifice ; Duteous hastening to remove Cares like these from angry Jove ; And spare, whilst fierce for blood my vengeance flies, The terrors of the skies. Antistropfo 2. His wrathful eye Heaven's mighty monarch rolls, Awfully silent, on this blood-stained race. But all the gorgeous blaze of power, Which trembling mortals here adore, When, mantled in these sable-shaded stoles, With blood-besprinkled feet we urge the chase, Since darkling to th ; infernal shades, And all its boasted glory fades. Near him, as he flies, I bound, And when, with guilt opprest, His weary steps would rest, Spurn him headlong to the ground. Senseless, he, perchance, and blind, Such the frenzy of his mind, Such the deep gloom guilt spreads around his walls, He knows not that he falls. THE FURIES. 231 Epode. But shall sheltering wall or gloom That from darkening guilt is spread, Hide him from his rigorous doom, Or protect his destined head ? Mine the vengeance to design, And to stamp it deep is mine. Sternly mindful of the crime, Nor by man appeased, nor time, When the wretch, whose deed unblest Dares profane high Heaven's behest, Though concealed from mortal eyes Through the sunless darkness flies, We pursue the rugged chase, And his dubious footsteps trace. Hear then, guilty mortals, hear, And the righteous god revere ; Hear the task to me assigned, Fate the firm decree shall bind ; Mine the prize of old ordained, Never with dishonour stained, Though my drear abode profound Night and darkness cover round. MINERVA, ORESTES, CHORUS, MINERVA. It was a voice that called ; distant far I heard it, where Scamander laves the fields My ancient right : to me the Grecian chiefs With voluntary zeal assigned this portion Of their rich conquest, ever to be mine, Sheeted as a gift to the brave race Of Theseus. With a speed that equals wings My vig'rous steeds thence whirled my car, the wind Against my ^Egis rustling as I passed. 232 THE FURIES. But who are these consorted here ? Mine eye Views them unterrified ; but much I marvel. What, and whence are you ? To you all I speak, To him, the stranger, seated at my image, And you, whose hideous shape resembles nought Of mortal race, nor goddesses in Heaven Seen by the gods, nor like the human form. But the deformed to taunt with obloquy Is unbeseeming ; justice starts at it. CHOR. Daughter of Jove, take our report in brief. We are the gloomy progeny of night, Called Furies in the drear abodes below. MIN. I know your race, and aptly added titles. CHOR. Soon shall thou learn my honours, and my office. MIN. Speak clearly then, without perplexing preface. CHOR. 'Tis ours to drive the murderers from the house. MIN. This all the vengeance to their guilt assigned ? CHOR. Where they shall never taste or peace or joy. MIN. And does thy yelling voice thus drive HIM out? CHOR. He dared to be the murderer of his mother. MIN. Urged by the force of no necessity ? CHOR. What force could urge the wretch to kill his mother ? MIN. He hears but half, that hears one party only. CHOR. He would refuse an oath, nor dares propose it. MIN. Thy aim seems rather to obtain the fame Of justice, than to execute her laws. CHOR. How so? Inform me; thou art rich in wisdom. MIN. Deeds of injustice are not cleared by oaths. CHOR. Hear thou the cause, and judge with righteous justice. MIN. Rests the decision of the cause on me ? CHOR. We reverence thee as worthiest 'midst the worthy, MIN. Say, stranger, what canst thou reply to this ? THE FURIES. 233 Speak first thy race, thy country, thy misfortunes ; Then urge thy plea against this accusation, If trusting in the justice of thy cause, Thus seated near my altar, thou embrace With reverend hands, a suppliant as Ixion, My statue. Be thy answer short and clear. ORES. Royal Minerva, let me first remove What thy last words, with much concern, suggest. I am not stained with blood, nor shall my hand Pollute thy statue : what I urge in proof Bears strong conviction. Him, whose hands are red With blood, the laws forbid to plead his cause, Till with its flowing gore the new-slain victim Has made atonement, and the cleansing wave Restored his purity. In other shrines Long since these hallowed rites have been performed With offered victims and the fluent stream. Blameless of this offence, I next declare My race : an Argive : nor to thee unknown My sire, the leader of the naval hosts, The royal Agamemnon ; for with him Thy conquering hand laid the proud walls of Troy In dust : returning to his house he perished By deeds of baseness ; for my dark-souled mother With various trains in private murdered him ; Th' ensanguined bath attested the foul deed. I, then an exile, bending back my steps, Slew her that gave me birth ; nor shall my tongue Deny the deed ; it was a vengeance due To my loved father's shade : so Phoebus deemed, Who urged me, and denounced heart-rending woes, Should I shrink back refusing to avenge The guilt : but if with justice, be thou judge. To thy deciding voice my soul submits. 2J4 THE FURIES. MIN. This is a cause of moment, and exc?/?ds The reach of mortal man : nor is it mine To judge, when blood with eager rage excites To vengeance. Thou with preparation meet Hast to my shrine approached a suppliant pure, Without offence ; and to my favoured city Uncharged with blame I readily receive thee. Let these, whose ruthless rage knows not the touch Of pity, not succeeding in their plea, Retire awhile, till judgment shall decide The contest : from their breasts black poison flows, And taints the sickening earth. Thus I pronounce To each, unequal in this dubious strife To give content to both. But since to me Th' appeal is made, it shall be mine t' elect Judges of blood, their faith confirmed by oath, And ratify the everlasting law. Prepare you for the trial, call your proofs, Arrange your evidence, bring all that tends To aid your cause : I from the holiest men That grace my city will select to judge This cause with justice ; men, whose sanctity Abhors injustice, and reveres an oath. CHORUS. Strophe i. Confusion on these upstart laws ! Havoc with haughty stride Shall march, and wave her banner wide, If venial be this bloody caitiffs cause. Impunity shall mortals lead To every savage deed, And prompt the son with rage unblest To plant the dagger in the parents' breast THE FURIES. 235 I smile at all this lawless force ; Nor shall our dreaded power In vengeance visit impious mortals more : No : let destruction take her destined course. Antistrophe i. Whilst his own anguish one shall moan, He hears his neighbour tell, Appalled, of deeds as fierce, as fell ; Tear falls to tear, and groan succeeds to groan. Nor shall the rolling storm of woe One gleam of comfort know. When anguish rends the tortured breast, Be not to us the mournful call addrest. " Where is your throne, ye Furies, where Justice," the father cries, Or the pale mother, as in blood she lies : But justice from her throne is exiled far. Strophe 2. Yet are there hours, when conscious fear And the stern eye, that darts Severely through their secret hearts, With sober counsels check their mad career. For when no ray of heavenly light Breaks through the sullen night, Dark deeds ensue, and virtue's power By man, by State is reverenced no more. Shall he, the' wretch that scorns control, And spurns each sacred law, Or he that drags his chain with servile awe, Feel the sweet peace that calms the virtuous soul ? 236 THE FURIES. Antistrophe 2, Placed in the midst does strength reside, With an indignant frown On each extreme the gods look down ; Injustice is the child of impious pride. But all the joys, that life can know. From tempered wisdom flow. To justice chief thy soul incline, And bow with reverence at her hallowed shrine. Nor dare, allured by cursed gold, With foot profane and bold To spurn her altars : vengeance waits the crime, And armed with terrors knows her destined time. Epode. Let each with awe profound A parent's honoured name obey : Each to thy milder voice, humanity, Attentive homage pay, When for the stranger thou art found Pleading thy strains of pious potency. He that to virtue's heavenly power Unforced his willing soul shall bow, Nor ruin's tyrant rage shall know, Nor keen affliction's torturing hour. But he, that dares her sacred laws despise, Trampling on justice to amass his prey, Appalled shall hear the rushing whirlwinds rise, And tremble at the storms that swell the sea. Wild with despair He pours his prayer, Whirled in the giddy tempest round ; His blasted pride The gods deride, Arid all his daring hopes confound ; THE FURIES. 237 Smile, as they view him -racked with paiu Bound in misfortune's iron chain ; As on the pointed rock they see him thrown, To perish there unpitied and alone. MINERVA, APOLLO, ORESTES, CHORUS. The J UDGES seated. MINERVA. Now, herald, let thy voice to all my people Proclaim attention : sound the Tuscan trumpet, That its ear-piercing notes may fill the city, Commanding silence, and impressing awe Due to this great assembly ; that the State May learn my everlasting laws r and hear The righteous judgment that decides this cause. CHOR. Royal Apollo, where thy rule extends, There lord it : but what right canst thou claim here ? APOL. To give my evidence I come. This man Is at my shrine a suppliant, at my shrine He sojourns; with ablutions pure I cleansed His stains of blood ; and now shall plead his cause, Our common cause, since for his mother's death Your accusations reach e'en me ; but thou Urge, as thou canst, thy plea : open the charge. MIN. This is incumbent on you ; open then The charge : th' accuser's voice must first explain Clearly through every circumstance the cause. CHOR. Though we are many, brief shall be our words. Now answer me in order, word for word. My first demand is, Didst thou kill thy mother? ORES. I did ; and never shall deny the deed. CHOR. First of the three this is one signal foil. ORES. Unmoved I stand, and thy proud vaunts are vai:i. CHOR. Declare it then at once, How didst thou kill her? ORES. I drew my sword, and plunged it in her breast. CHOR. At whose persuasion? or by whose advice? 238 THE FURIES. ORES. By HIS oracular voice : he will attest it. CHOR. The Prophet urge thee to this bloody deed ! ORES. Nor thus far have I to accuse my fate. CHOR. Far other language the condemning vote Will teach thy tongue. ORES. My confidence is firm ; My father from the tomb will send me aid. CHOR. Confiding in the dead he slew his mother. ORES. Her breast was spotted with a double stain. CHOR. What may this mean? Speak, and inform thy judges. ORES. She slew my father when she slew her husband. CHOR. And yet thou livest : from that stain she's free. ORES. Why, whilst she lived, didst thou not drive her out? CHOR. She had no kindred blood with him she slew. ORES. Is mine allied then to my mother's blood ? CHOR. How else, before thy birth, did she sustain, How nourish thee ? The murd'rous wretch disowns That dearest of all ties, a mother's blood. ORES. Now let me call thy testimony ; now Declare, Apollo, if I slew her justly : For that I slew her, in such circumstance, I not deny : if rightfully or not, Decide, that I to these may plead thy sanction. APOL. To you, the great and reverend council here Placed by Minerva, will I speak and truly ; For never shall the god of prophecy Pronounce a falsehood ; never have I uttered From my oracular seat to man, to woman, Or State, save what the great Olympian sire Shall have commanded. Of his sovereign justice I^earn you the force, and bow to his high % will : Nor deem an oath of greater power than Jove. CHOR. This oracle, thou say'st, was dictated THE FURIES. 239 By Jove, to charge Orestes, whilst his hand Was armed with vengeance for his father's murder, To pay no reverence to his mother's blood. APOL. Of higher import is it, when a man Illustrious for his virtues, by the gods Exalted to the regal throne, shall die, Die by a woman's hand, by one that dares not Bend, like an Amazon, the stubborn bow. But hear me, Pallas, hear me, you that sit In awful judgment to decide this cause. Victorious from the war, with glory crowned, And graced with many a trophy, at the bath She smilingly received him ; there refreshed, As o'er his head he threw the splendid robe Prepared t' entangle him, she slew her husband. So died the chief, the glorious, the renowned, The leader of the warlike troops of Greece : And such I speak this woman, reverend judges, To strike your souls with horror at her deeds. CHOR. So Jove, it seems, respects the father's fate ; Yet on his father he could bind the chain, The hoary Saturn : that his deed gainsays Thy words : 1 pray you mark the poor evasion. APOL. Detested hags, th' abhorrence of the gods ! He could unbind these chains, and the release Has a medicinal power. But whenthe blood, That issues from the slain, sinks in the dust It never rises more. For this my sire No remedy admits, in all besides With sovereign power or ruins or restores. CHOR. See with what ill-judged zeal thy arguments Labour t' absolve him ! Shall the wretch, whose hand Spilt on the earth the kindred blood that flowed Within his mother's veins, return to Argos Lord of his father's house ? Before what altar, FURIES. Sacred to public off rings, shall he bend ? What friendly laver shall admit his hands ? APOL. This too shall I explain ; and mark me well, If reason guides my words. The mother's power Produces not the offspring, ill called hers. No: 'tis the father, that to her commits The infant plant ; she but the nutrient soil That gives the stranger growth, if fav'ring Heaven Denies it not to flourish : this I urge In proof, a father may assert that name Without a mother's aid ; an instance sits Minerva, daughter of Olympian Jove ; Not the slow produce of nine darkling months, But formed at once in all her perfect bloom : Such from no pregnant goddess ever sprung. Thy State, thy people, Pallas, be it mine 1" exalt to glory, and what else of greatness I know to give. This suppliant to thy shrine I sent, assuring his eternal faith ; Thy votary he, and his descendants thine, From sire to son through all succeeding ages. MIN. The pleas are urged : these now I charge to give Sentence, with strict regard to truth and justice. CHOR. We have discharged our shafts : and now I wait To hear what sentence shall adjudge this cause. MIN. What, am I never to escape your censure ? CHOR. Give what you've heard due weight ; and with pure hearts Pronouncing sentence reverence your high oath. MIN. Ye citizens of Athens, now attend, Whilst this great council in a cause of blood First give their judgment. But through future ages This awful court shall to the hosts of ^Egeus With uncorrupted sanctity remain. Here on this Mount of Mars the Amazons THE FURIES. 24 Of old encamped, when their embattled troops Marched against Theseus, and in glittering arms Breathed vengeance ; here their new-aspiring towers Raised high their rampired heads to storm his towers, And here their hallowed altars rose to Mars : Hence its illustrious name the cliff retains, The Mount of Mars. In this the solemn state Of this majestic city, and the awe That rises thence shall be a holy guard Against injustice, shall protect the laws Pure and unsullied from th' oppressive power Of innovation, and th' adulterate stain Of foreign mixture : should thy hand pollute The liquid fount with mud, where wilt thou find The grateful draught ? Let not my citizens Riot in lawless anarchy, nor wear The chain of tyrant power, nor from their state Loose all the curb of rigour : this removed, What mortal man, unchecked with sense of fear, Would reverence justice ? Let the majesty, That here resides, impress your souls with awe : Your country has a fence, your town a guard, Such as no nation knows ; not those that dwell In Scythia, or the cultured realms of Pelops, This court superior to th' alluring glare Of pestilent gold, this court that claims your awe Severely just, I constitute your guard, Watchful to shield your country and its peace : These my commands to every future age Have I extended. Now behoves you, judges, Give test of your integrity ; bring forth The shells ; with strictest justice give your suffrage, And reverence your high oath. This is my charge. CHOR. Nor of their honours rob this train, whose power Is dreadful in the drear abodes below. 242 THE FURTES. APOL. And be my oracles, the voice of Jove, Revered, nor seek to move their firm decree. CHOR. Beyond thy charge protecting deeds of blood, Nor reverend are thy oracles, nor pure. APOL. Think of the expiation, which of old Ixion made for blood : wilt thou arraign My father's councils there ? Or slept his wisdom ? CHOR. Thou say'st it ; but if justice fails me here, This land shall feel the terrors of my vengeance. APOL. Unhonoured thou by every power of Heaven, Or young, or told, to triumph here is mine. CHOR. Such in the house of Pheres were thy deeds, When, won by thy alluring voice, the Fates On mortal man conferred immortal honours. APOL. To aid, to grace the pious, when their prayers Rightly invoke our influence, is just. CHOR. What, hast thou crushed the power of ancient And wouldst thou now delude our honoured age ? [Fate, APOL. Soon shall thy malice, baffled in this cause, Shed its black venom harmless to thy foes. CHOR. Since thy proud youth insults my hoary years, I wait th' event in silence, and suspend The fury of my vengeance on this city. MIN. Last to give suffrage in this cause is mine : In favour of Orestes shall I add My vote : for as no mother gave me birth, My grace in all things, save the nuptial rites, Attends the male, as from my sire I drew The vigour of my soul. No woman's fate Stained with her husband's blood, whom nature formed Lord of his house, finds partial preference here. Orestes, if the number of the votes Be equal, is absolved. Now from the urn I et those among the judges, to whose honour This office is assigned, draw forth the lots. THE FURIES. 243 ORES. O Phoebus, what th' event that waits this cause ! CHOR. O Night, dark mother, through thy sable gloom Seest thou these things ? Now on the doubtful edge Of black despair I stand, or joyful light, Driven out with infamy, or graced with honours. APOL. Now, strangers, count the lots with righteous heed, And with impartial justice sever them. One shell misplaced haply brings ruin, one May raise again a desolated house. MIN. He is absolved, free from the doom of blood, For equal are the numbers of the shells. ORES. O thou, whose tutelary power preserved The honours of my house, thou, goddess, thou Hast to his country and his native rites Restored this exile ; and each Greek shall say, This Argive to his father's throne returns, So Pallas wills, and Phoebus, and the god All-powerful to protect ; my father's death He marked severe, and looks indignant down On those that patronize my mother's cause. First to this country, and to this thy people Through time's eternal course I pledge my faith, And bind it with an oath : now to my house I bend my steps : never may chieftain thence Advance against this land with ported spear. If any shall hereafter violate My oath now made, though then these mouldering bones Rest in the silent tomb, my shade shall raise Invincible distress, disasters, toils, To thwart them, and obstruct their lawless march, Till in dismay repentant they abhor Their enterprise. But to the social powers, That reverence this thy State, and lift the lance In its defence, benevolent shall be 244 THE FURIES. My gentler influence. Hail, goddess ; hail, Ye guardians of the city ; be your walls Impregnable, and in the shock of war May conquest grace the spear that aids your cause ! CHOR. I burst with rage. With cruel pride These youthful gods my slighted age deride. And, the old laws disdaining to obey, Rend from my hands my prey. Tortured with griefs corroding smart, And taught disgrace and scorn to know, Distilling from my anguished heart The pestilential drop shall flow ; Where'er it falls, nor fruit around, Nor leaf shall grace the blasted ground ; Through the sick air its baleful dews A caustic venom shall diffuse ; And breathing on this hateful race With deep rough scars the beauteous form deface. Vainly shall I heave my sighs, Or bid my angry vengeance rise ? To insults, which my bosom rend, Vulgar spirits scorn to bend, And shall thy daughters, awful Night, in vain Of their disgrace complain ? MIN. Let my entreaties move .you ; bear not this With such deep anger ; for no conquest here Wounds your insulted honour : from the urn The lots came equal, so disposed by truth, To thee no insult off'ring, and from Jove Flowed splendid signs ; he gave the oracle, He added his high test, that for the deed Orestes should not suffer. Breathe not then Your heavy vengeance on this land ; restrain Your indignation ; o'er these sickening fields Drop not your pestilential dews, nor blast THE FURIES. Their glittering verdure, and their springing seeds. And here I pledge my faith, this grateful land Shall willingly receive you, raise your seats High at their blazing hearths, and, with deep awe Imprest, pay reverend honours to your power. CHOR. I burst with rage. With cruel pride These youthful gods my slighted age deride ; And, the old laws disdaining to obey, Rend from my hands my prey. Tortured with griefs corroding smart, And taught disgrace and scorn to know, Distilling from my anguished heart The pestilential drop shall flow; Where'er it falls, nor fruit around, Nor leaf shall grace the blasted ground ; Through the sick air its baleful dews A caustic venom shall diffuse ; And breathing on this hated race With deep rough scars the beauteous form deface. Vainly shall I heave my sighs, Or bid my angry vengeance rise ? To insults, which my bosom rend, Vulgar spirits scorn to bend ; And shall thy daughters, awful Night, in vain Of their disgrace complain ? MIN. No, you are not disgraced ; not let your wrath, Immortal as you are, to mortal man Spread desolation o'er the earth. I too Prevail with Jove. And wherefore should I say Of all the gods I only know the keys That ope those solid doors, within whose vaults His thunders sleep ? Of these there is no need. By me persuaded let thy hasty tongue Forbear those threats, from which no fruit can flow, But ruin to the earth ; compose that rage, 246 THE FURIES. Whose swelling tide o'erflows all bounds, with me In the same mansion, and with equal honours Revered, enjoying through these ample realms The prime oblations, victims doomed to bleed For blessings on the birth, or nuptial hour, That thou shall thank me for this friendly counsel. CHOR. Shall I brook this ? Shall I then deign In this cursed land to spend my slighted age, And my lost honours mourn in vain ? No : be each vengeful thought inflamed with rage; Ah me, the keen, the madd'ning smart ! Deep, deep it cuts, it rends my heart. Hear, awful Night, my raving passion hear ! These gods, with a malignant smile, Ah me ! my baffled power beguile, And from my brows the public honours tear. MIN. Thine anger will I bear with, for thy years Are more than mine, thy wisdom more ; though Jove Hath with no niggard grace on me bestowed A prudent sense. You yet are strangers here ; But I foresee, when once your seats are fixed, These scenes will be delightful, and the flow Of future years to the inhabitants Roll more abundant honours. Where Erechtheus Raised high his regal structures, thou shall hold Thy residence, receiving from the men, And from the train of females, such high honours As mortals never paid thee. Cast not then On these my realms the pestilent bane, that fires Beyond the rage of wine the frantic youth To wild ensanguined slaughter : in their hearts Pour not the fury of the crested cock Exciting discord, broils, and civil war. To foreign wars, when dangers threaten nigh, Let glory lead their arms : domestic strife THE FURIES. 247 Is hateful to my soul : bethink thee well, Thou hast thy choice, by courtesy to win Returns of courtesy, and reverenced high To share this country grateful to the gods. CHOR. Shall I brook this ? Shall I then deign In this cursed land to spend my slighted age, And my lost honours mourn in vain ? No : be each vengeful thought inflamed with rage. Ah me, the keen, the madd'ning smart ! Deep, deep it cuts, it rends my heart. Hear, awful Night, my raving passion hear ! These gods, with a malignant smile, Ah me ! my baffled power beguile, And from my brows the public honours tear. MIN. I will not yet surcease to speak thee fair; And never with just cause shalt thou complain That with inhospitable pride my youth, And the rude race of mortals dwelling here, Drove thee, an ancient goddess, with disgrace An outcast from this land. If yet the power Of mild persuasion, dropping from my lips In words of sweet and soothing courtesy, Hath not lost all its virtue, thou wilt stay : If thou disdain to stay, yet not with justice Canst thou with wrath or vengeance load this town, Nor on its people shed thy baneful dews. Tis in thy choice to bless this land, and fix With everlasting honours here thy seat. CHOR. What seat, say, royal virgin, shall be mine? MIN. Where misery never comes. Assent, accept it. CHOR. I do assent What honour now awaits me ? MIN. That, without thee, no house shall rise to glory. CHOR. Wilt thou do this, advance my honour thus ? MIN. Him that reveres thee, shall my power protect. CHOR. And shall thy word stand unimpaired by time ? 248 THE FURIES. MIN. It is not mine to violate my faith. CHOR. Thy words have almost soothed me to a calm, And the high storm of anger dies away. MIN. The charms of friendship here shalt thou enjoy. CHOR. Say, with what strains shall I salute this land ? MIN. Such as, allied to conquest, from the earth, From the rich dews of ocean, from the sky Soft-tempered with the genial sun, may wake Ambrosial gales diffusing o'er this earth Luxuriance to its fruits, and to its flocks Prolific vigour, to its peopled towns Th' unfading glow of health. Be this thy charge \ Mine, in the glorious toils of war to grace Their fame-ennobled arms with victory. CHOR. Goddess, here thy seat I share, Hostile to this town no more ; Which the dreadful god of war, And the Thund'rer's sovereign power, Give the pride of Greece to rise Guardian of the rites divine, Glory of the fav'ring skies, Give to watch o'er freedom's shrine. I too breathe the potent prayer : May the sun's ambrosial ray, Rolling o'er the fruitful year, All its richest charms display ! MIN. For my loved city with a willing mind This do I, seating here these awful powers That yield with much reluctance ; for o'er man The Fates assign them a despotic sway. And he, that feels their terrors, often knows not Whence springs the vengeful wrath, whose iron scourge Imbitters life : for the sire's long-passed crimes Draw to their chast'ning hand the suff ring son ; THE FURIES. 2 .|9 And 'midst his thoughts of greatness, silent ruin With ruthless hate pursues, and crashes him. CHOR. O'er their saplings spreading fair May no chill wind noxious blow ; Nor the dry and scorching air Singe their fresh buds' opening glow. For my sake may no disease Sicken o'er the blasted year : May their teeming flocks increase, And a double offspring bear. 'Gainst the solemn festal day Numerous may their herds arise ; Sportive o'er the rich fields play, Gift of the propitious skies. MIN. Hear this, ye guardians of the State, and know Her word shall be accomplished ; for the gods That tread the spangled skies, and those that hold In the dark realms beneath their solemn thrones, Revere her awful power ; and her high strains To mortal man in accents dread pronounce Blessings to some, to some a life of woes. CHOR. May no harsh untimely doom Sweep the manly youth away; May the virgins' ripening bloom Crown with love the bridal day. i You, that to the Fates allied Claim this just and ample power; You, that o'er each house preside, Sovereign rulers of each hour ; Goddesses, with holy dread Whose high state mankind revere, Here your softest influence shed, Here extend your guardian care. 250 THE FURIES. MIN. This ready zeal accorded to my country Delights me ; and with ardour must I love Gentle persuasion, that hath tuned rny voice To move them from their stern and fierce resolves, The pleading voice of Jove hath here prevailed ; And my warm efforts in the cause of mercy Extend their triumph through all future time. CHOR. Ne'er may discord's hideous power Here unsated stalk its round : Slaughter ne'er with kindred gore Madly drench the thirsty ground ; Whilst revenge in barb'rous pride Shakes the streets with thund'ring tread, Blood for blood demands, and wide Joys the mutual rage to spread. But to union's soft command May their minds harmonious move ; Leagued in war, a friendly band ; Tuned in peace to social love. MIN. So the mild accents of the soothing tongue, Attuned by wisdom, win their easy way : And to this people from these horrid forms I see much good. With gentle courtesy Their courtesy requiting, always owned By acts of highest reverence, you, whose care Js watchful o'er this country and this seat Of justice, all shall reap the meed of glory. CHOR. Hail, with wealth, with glory graced Citizens of Athens, hail ! Next to Jove in glory placed, Never may your honours fail ! Trained to wisdom's sober lore, Favoured with Minerva's love, THE FURIES. Guarded by her virgin power" Dear through her to sovereign Jove. MIN. And you all hail ! But be it mine to show The place assigned you for your residence. Go to those sacred flames, they will conduct you, And from these hallowed victims sink with speed To the dark shades below ; imprison there Whate'er is noxious to these realms ; whate'er Has influence to bless them, send in triumph. And you, high-lineaged guardians of the State, Attend these stranger-guests to their new seats, And be each gentle thought attuned to good. CHOR. Once more hail, and hail again, All that here have fixed your seat ; Mortal and immortal train, Guardians of Minerva's state ! Here your residence I share, To my power due homage pay, Ne'er shall woe or sullen care Cloud with grief life's golden day. MIN. I like these votive measures ; and will send The bright flames of these splendour-shedding torches, With those that guard my hallowed image here, Attendant on you to the dark abodes Beneath the earth. And let th' Athenian train, The grace, the glory of the wide-stretched world, Their manly youth, their virgins' roseate bloom, And their age-honoured nnatrons now advance, Arrayed in richest vesture darting round Its vermeil-tinctured radiance ; let the torches Blaze, that this sable troop through future times May shine conspicuous for their friendly aid. 252- THE FURIES. THE* ATTENDANT TRAIN. Remove then from this hallowed fane, Daughters of Night, remove your virgin train : With festal pomp, and solemn tread, Reverend your awe-commanding state we lead. Breathing blessings o'er this land Seek your ancient caves below, Leading Fortune in your hand, Breathing blessings as you go. For you the altars rise, the victims bleed, And sacred honours are decreed ; For you the rich libations dew the ground, Whilst torches spread their blaze around. Go, in your glory then rejoicing go, Go, and lead the Fates along, Joining in this votive song ; Whilst on this city from his throne on high Jove propitious bends his eye. Go then ; and as you move your friendly train, Responsive to this warbled strain Harmonious bid your swelling voices flow. THE PERSIANS. No representation can be conceived more agreeable to a brave and free people, than that which sets before their eyes the ruin of an invading tyrant defeated by their own valour ; and no poet , could ever claim the right of making such representation with so good a grace as yEschylus, who had borne a distinguished part in the real scene. Animated by his noble subject, and the enthusiasm with which he loved his country, he has here displayed all the warmth and dignity of his genius, but tempered at the same time with so chas- tised a judgment, that we are surprised to see the infant drama come forth at once with all those graces which consti- tute its perfection : it is like his own Minerva, that sprung from the head of Jupiter, Then shining heavenly fair, a goddess armed. Beside this wonderful management of the parts, the poet has the delicacy to set the glory of his countrymen in the brightest view, by putting their praises into the mouths of their enemies. Not satisfied with a spirited narration of their defeat, and a recital of the many royal chiefs that perished in that battle ; not satisfied with spreading the terror through all the realms of Persia, and placing them in a manner before our eyes in all the distress of desolation and despair, he hath interested even the dead, and, with the awful solemnity of a 254 THE PERSIANS. religious incantation, evoked the ghost of Darius to testify to his Persians that no safety, no hope remained to them, if they continued their hostile attempts against Greece ; so that this sublime conception hath engaged earth and sea, heaven and hell, to bear honourable testimony to the glory of his countrymen, and the superiority of their arms. This tragedy was exhibited eight years after the defeat at Salamis, whilst the memory of each circumstance was yet recent ; so that we may consider the narration as a faithful history of this great event. The war was not yet ended, though the Persian monarch had offered to make the most humiliating concessions, and the Athenians were inclined to accept them ; but Themistocles opposed the peace. So that we are further to consider this play in a political light ; the poet, by so animated a description of the pernicious effects of an obstinate pride, and by filling the spectators with a malignant compassion for the vanquished Xerxes, indirectly indisposing his countrymen to a continuation of the war. Thus everything at Athens, even their shows, had a respect to the public good. This is the fine remark of P. Brumoy. The scene of this tragedy is at Susa, before the ancient structure appropriated to the great council of state, and near the tomb of Darius. PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. ATOSSA. MESSENGER. GHOST OF DARIUS. XERXES. CHORUS, THE COUNCIL OF STATE, CHORUS. WHILST o'er the fields of Greece the embattled troops Of Persia march, with delegated sway We o'er their rich and gold-abounding seats THE PERSIANS. 255 Hold faithful our firm guard ; to this high charge Xerxes, our royal lord, th' imperial son Of great Darius, chose our honoured age. But for the king's return, and his armed host Blazing with gold, my soul presaging ill Swells in my tortured breast : for all her force Hath Asia sent, and for her youth I sigh. Nor messenger arrives, nor horseman spurs With tidings to this seat of Persia's kings. The gates of Susa and Ecbatana Poured forth their martial trains ; and Cissia sees Her ancient towers forsaken, whilst her youth, Some on the bounding steed, the tall barque some Ascending, some with painful march on foot, Haste on, t' arrange the deepening files of war. Amistres, Artaphernes, and the might Of great Astaspes, Megabazes bold, Chieftains of Persia, kings, that to the power Of the great king obedient, march with these Leading their martial thousands ; their proud steeds Prance under them ; steel bows and shafts their arms, Dreadful to see, and terrible in fight, Deliberate valour breathing in their souls. Artembares, that in his fiery horse Delights ; Masistres ; and Imaeus bold, Bending with manly strength his stubborn bow ; Pharandaces, and Sosthanes, that drives With military pomp his rapid steeds. Others the vast prolific Nile hath sent ; Pegastagon, that from /Egyptus draws His high birth ; Susiscanes ; and the chief That reigns o'er sacred Memphis, great Aisames ; And Arioniardus, that o'er ancient Thebes Bears the supreme dominion ; and with these 256 THE PERSIANS. Drawn from their wat'ry marshes numbers trained To the stout oar. Next these the Lycian troops, Soft sons of luxury ; and those that dwell Amidst the inland forests, from the sea Far distant ; these Metragathes commands, And virtuous Arceus, royal chiefs, that shine In burnished gold, and many a whirling car Drawn by six generous steeds from Sardis lead, A glorious, and a dreadful spectacle. And from the foot of Tmolus, sacred mount, Eager to bind on Greece the servile yoke, Mardon and Tharybis the massy spear Grasp with unwearied vigour ; the light lance The Mysians shake. A mingled multitude Swept from her wide dominions, skilled to draw Th' unerring bow, in ships Euphrates sends From golden Babylon. With falchions armed From all th' extent of Asia move the hosts Obedient to their monarch's stern command. Thus marched the flower of Persia, whose loved youth The world of Asia nourished, and with sighs Laments their absence ; many an anxious look Their wives, their parents send, count the slow days, And tremble at the long-protracted time. Strophe i. Already o'er the adverse strand In arms the monarch's martial squadrons spread ; The threat'ning ruin shakes the land, And each tall city bows its towered head. f Barque bound to barque, their wondrous way They bridge across th' indignant sea ; The narrow Hellespont's vexed waves disdain, His proud neck taught to wear the chain. THE PERSIANS. 257 Now has the peopled Asia's warlike lord, By land, by sea, with foot, with horse, Resistless in his rapid course, O'er all their realms his warring thousands poured ; Now his intrepid chiefs surveys, And glittering like a god his radiant state displays. Antistrophe i. Fierce as the dragon scaled in gold Through the deep files he darts his glowing eye ; And pleased their order to behold, His gorgeous standard blazing to the sky, Rolls onward his Assyrian car, Directs the thunder of the war, Bids the winged arrows' iron storm advance, Against the slow and cumbrous lance. What shall withstand the torrent of his sway, When dreadful o'er the yielding shores Th' impetuous tide of battle roars, And sweeps the weak-opposing mounds away? So Persia with resistless might Rolls her unnumbered hosts of heroes to the fight Strophe 2. For when misfortune's fraud ful hand Prepares to pour the vengeance of the sky, What mortal shall her force withstand, What rapid speed th' impending fury fly ? Gentle at first with flattering smiles She spreads her soft enchanting wiles, So to her toils allures her destined prey, Whence man ne'er breaks unhurt away. For thus from ancient times the Fates ordain, That Persia's sons should greatly dare, Unequalled in the works of war : i .258 THE PERSIANS. Shake with their thund'ring steeds th' ensanguined plain, Dreadful the hostile walls surround, And lay their rampired towers in ruins on the ground. Antistrophe 2. Taught to behold with fearless eyes, The whitening billows foam beneath the gale, They bid the naval forests rise, Mount the slight barque, unfurl the flying sail, And o'er the angry ocean bear To distant realms the storm of war. For this with many a sad and gloomy thought My tortured breast is fraught : Ah me ! for Persia's absent sons I sigh ; For whilst in foreign fields they fight, Our towns exposed to wild affright An easy prey to the invader lie : Where, mighty Susa, where thy powers, To wield the warrior's arms, and guard my regal towers ? Epode. Crushed beneath th' assailing foe Her golden head must Cissia bend ; Whilst her pale virgins, frantic with despair, Through all her streets awake the voice of woe j And flying with their bosoms bare, Their purfled stoles in anguish rend : For all her youth in martial pride, Like bees that, clustering round their king, Their dark-embodied squadrons bring, Attend their sceptred monarch's side, And stretch across the wat'ry way From shore to shore their long array. THE PERSIANS. ^ 59 The Persian dames with many a tender fear In griefs sad vigils keep the midnight hour ; Shed on the widowed couch the streaming tear, And the long absence of their loves deplore. Each lonely matron feels her pensive breast Throb with desire, with aching fondness glow, Since in bright arms her daring warrior drest Left her to languish in her love-lorn woe. CHOR. Now ye grave Persians, that your honoured seats Hold in this ancient house, with prudent care And deep deliberation, so the State Requires, consult we, pond'ring the event Of this great war, which our imperial lord, The mighty Xerxes from Darius sprung, The stream of whose rich blood flows in our veins, Leads against Greece ; whether his arrowy shower Shot from the strong-braced bow, or the huge spear High brandished, in the deathful field prevails. But see, the monarch's mother : like the gods Her lustre blazes on our eyes. My queen, Prostrate I fall before her : all advance With reverence, and in duteous phrase address her. WHOLE CHOR. Hail queen, of Persia's high-zoned dames supreme, ' Age-honoured mother of the potent Xerxes, Imperial consort of Darius, hail ! The wife, the mother of the Persian's god, If yet our former glories fade not from us. Axos. And therefore am I come, leaving my house That shines with gorgeous ornaments and gold, Where in past days Darius held with me His royal residence. With anxious care My heart is tortured : I will tell you, friends, My thoughts, not otherwise devoid of fear, I 2 260 THE PERSIANS. Lest mighty wealth with haughty foot o'erturn And trample in the dust that happiness, Which, not unblessed by Heaven. Darius raised. For this with double force unquiet thoughts Past utterance fill my soul ; that neither wealth With all its golden stores, where men are wanting, Claims reverence; nor the light, that beams from po.v?r, Shines on the man, whom wealth disdains to grace. The golden stores of wealth indeed are ours ; But for the light, such in the house I deem The presence of its lord, there I have fears. Advise me then you, whose experienced age Supports the state of Persia : prudence guides Your councils, always kind and faithful to me. CHOR. Speak, royal lady, what thy will, assured, We want no second bidding, where our power In word or deed waits on our zeal : our hearts In this with honest duty shall obey thee. ATOS. Oft, since my son hath marched his mighty host Against th' lonians, warring to subdue Their country, have my slumbers been disturbed With dreams of dread portent but most last night, With marks of plainest proof. I'll tell thee then. Methought two women stood before my eyes' Gorgeously vested, one in Persian robes Adorned, the other in the Doric garb. With more than mortal majesty they moved, Of peerless beauty ; sisters too they seemed, Though distant each from each they chanced to d\vdl, In Greece the one, on the barbaric coast The other. 'Twixt them soon dissension rose : My son then hasted to compose their strife, Soothed them to fair accord, beneath his car Yokes them, and reins their harnessed necks. The one, THE PERSIANS. 261 Exulting in her rich array, with pride Arching her stately neck, obeyed the reins ; The other with indignant fury spurned The car, and dashed it piecemeal, rent the reins, And tore the yoke asunder : down my son Fell from the seat, and instant at his side His father stands, Darius, at his fall Impressed with pity : him when Xerxes saw, Glowing with grief and shamo he rends his robes. This was the dreadful vision of the night. When I arose, in the sweet flowing stream I bathed my hands, and on the incensed altars Presenting my oblations to the gods T' avert these ills, an eagle I beheld Fly to the altar of the sun : aghast I stood, my friends, and speechless ; when a hawk With eager speed runs thither, furious cuffs The eagle with his wings, and with his talons Unplumes his head ; meantime th' imperial bird Cowers to the blows defenceless. Dreadful this To me that saw it, and to you that hear. My son, let conquest crown his arms, would shine With dazzling glory ; but should fortune frown, The State indeed presumes not to arraign His sovereignty, yet how, his honour lost, How shall he sway the sceptre of this land ? CHOR. We would not, royal lady, sink thy soul With fear in the excess, nor raise it high With confidence. Go then, address the gods ; If thou hast seen aught ill, entreat their power T' avert that ill, and perfect every good To thee, thy sons, the State, and all thy friends. Then to the earth, and to the mighty dead Behoves thee pour libations : gently call 2-62 THE PERSIANS. Him that was once thy husband, whom thou saw'st In visions of the night ; entreat his shade From the deep realms beneath to send to light Triumph to thee, and to thy son ; whate'er Bears other import, to enwrap, to hide it Close in the covering earth's profoundest gloom. This in the presage of my thoughts that flow Benevolent to thee, have I proposed ; And all, we trust, shall be successful to thee. [dreams ATOS. Thy friendly judgment first hath placed these In a fair light, confirming the event Benevolent to my son, and to my house. May all the good be ratified ! These rites Shall, at thy bidding, to the powers of Heaven, And to the manes of our friends, be paid In order meet, when I return : meanwhile Indulge me, friends, who wish to be informed Where, in what clime, the towers of Athens rise. CHOR. Far in the west, where sets th' imperial sun. ATOS. Yet my son willed the conquest of this town. CHOR. May Greece through all her States bend to his power. ATOS. Send they embattled numbers to the field ? CHOR. A force, that to the Medes hath wrought much woe. ATOS. Have they sufficient treasures in their houses ? CHOR. Their rich earth yields a copious fount of silver. ATOS. From the strong bow wing they the barbed shaft ? CHOR, They grasp the stout spear, and the massy shield. ATOS. What monarch reigns, whose power commands their ranks ? CHOR. Slaves to no lord, they own no kingly power. ATOS. How can they then resist th' invading foe ? CHOR. As to spread havoc through the numerous host. That round Darius formed their glittering files. THE PERSIANS. 263 ATOS. Thy words strike deep, and wound the parent's breast, Whose sons are marched to such a dangerous field. CHOR. But, if I judge aright, thou soon shall hear Each circumstance ; for this way, mark him, speeds A Persian messenger : he bears, be sure, Tidings of high import, or good or ill. ATOSSA, CHORUS, MESSENGER. MESSENGER. Woe to the towns through Asia's peopled Woe to the land of Persia, once the port [realms ! Of boundless wealth, how is thy glorious state Vanished at once, and all thy spreading honours Fall'n, lost ! Ah me ! unhappy is his task That bears unhappy tidings : but constraint Compels me to relate this tale of woe. Persians, the whole barbaric host is fall'n. CHOR. O horror, horror ! What a baleful train Of recent ills i Ah Persians, as he speaks Of ruin, let your tears stream to the earth. TvlES. It is even so, all ruin ; and myself, Beyond all hope returning, view this light. CHOR. How tedious and oppressive is the weight Of age, reserved to hear these hopeless ills ! MES. I speak not from report ; but these mine eyes Beheld the ruin which my tongue would utter. CHOR. Woe, woe is me ! Then has the iron storm, That darkened from the realms of Asia, poured In vain its arrowy shower on sacred Greece. MES. In heaps th' unhappy dead lie on the strand Of Salamis, and all the neighbouring shores. CHOR. Unhappy friends, sunk, perished in the sea; Their bodies 'midst the wreck of shattered ships, Mangled, and rolling on th' encumbered waves 1 264 THE PERSIANS. MES. Nought did their bows avail, but all the troops In the first conflict of the ships were lost. CHOR. Raise the funereal cry, with dismal notes Wailing the wretched Persians. Oh, how ill They planned their measures, all their army perished ! MES. O Salamis, how hateful is thy name ! And groans burst from me when I think of Athens. CHOR, How dreadful to her foes ! Call to remem- brance Hew many Persian dames, wedded in vain, Hath Athens of their noble husbands widowed ! ATOS. Astonied with these ills, my voice thus long Hath wanted utterance : griefs like these exceed The power of speech, or question : yet e'en such, Inflicted by the gods, must mortal man Constrained by hard necessity endure. But tell me all, without distraction tell me, All this calamity, though many a groan Burst from thy labouring heart. Who is not fallen ? What leader must we wail ? What sceptred chief Dying hath left his troops without a lord ? MES. Xerxes himself lives, and beholds the light. ATOS. That word beams comfort on my house, a ray That brightens through the melancholy gloom. MES. Artembares, the potent chief that led Ten thousand horse, lies slaughtered on the rocks Of rough Silenise. The great Dadaces, Beneath whose standard marched a thousand horse, Pierced by a spear fell headlong from the ship. Tenagon, bravest of the Bactrians, lies Rolled on the wave-worn beach of Ajax' isle. Lilaeus, Arsames, Argestes dash With violence in death against the rocks Where nest the silver doves. Arcteus, that dwelt THE PERSIANS. 365 Near to the fountains of the /Egyptian Nile, Adeues, and Pheresba, and Pharnuchus, Fell from one ship. Matallus, Chrysa's chief, That led his dark'ning squadrons, thrice ten thousand, On jet-black steeds, with purple gore distained The yellow of his thick and shaggy beard. The Magian Arabus, and Artames From Bactra, mould'ring on the dreary shore Lie low. Amistris, and Amphistreus there Grasps his war-wearied spear ; there prostrate lies Th' illustrious Ariomardus ; long his loss Shall Sardis weep : the Mysian Sisames, And Tharybis, that o'er the burdened deep Led five times fifty vessels ; Lerna gave The hero birth, and manly grace adorned His pleasing form, but low in death he lies Unhappy in his fate. Syennesis, Cilicia*s warlike chief, who dared to front The foremost dangers, singly to the foes A terror, there too found a glorious death. These chieftains to my sad remembrance rise, Relating but a few of many ills. ATOS. This is the height of ill, ah me ! and shame To Persia, grief, and lamentation loud. But tell me this, afresh renew thy tale, What was the number of the Grecian fleet, That in fierce conflict their bold barques should dare Rush to encounter with the Persian hosts. MES. Know then, in numbers the barbaric fleet Was far superior : in ten squadrons, each Of thirty ships, Greece ploughed the deep ; of these One held a distant station. Xerxes led A thousand ships ; their number well I know; Two hundred more, and seven, that swept the seas 266 THE PERSIANS. With speediest sail : this was their full amount. And in th' engagement seemed we not secure Of victory ? But unequal fortune sunk Our scale in fight, discomfiting our host. ATOS. The gods preserve the city of Minerva. MES. The walls of Athens are impregnable, Their firmest bulwarks her heroic sons. ATOS. Which navy first advanced to the attack ? Who led to th' onset, tell me ; the bold Greeks, Or, glorying in his numerous fleet, my son ? MES. Our evil genius, lady, or some god Hostiie to Persia, led to ev'ry ill. Forth from the troops of Athens came a Greek, And thus addressed thy son, th' imperial Xerxes : " Soon as the shades of night descend, the Grecians Shall quit their station ; rushing to their oars They mean to separate, and in secret flight Seek safety." At these words the royal chief, Little conceiving of the wiles of Greece And gods averse, to all the naval leaders Gave his high charge : " Soon as yon sun shall cease To dart his radiant beams, and dark'ning night Ascends the temple of the sky, arrange In three divisions your well-ordered ships, And guard each pass, each outlet of the seas : Others curing around this rocky isle Of Salamis : should Greece escape her fate, And work her way by secret flight, your heads Shall answer the neglect." This harsh command He gave, exulting in his mind, nor knew What fate designed. With martial discipline And prompt obedience, snatching a repast, Each mariner fixed well his ready oar. Soon as the golden sun was set, and night THE PERSIANS. 2 Advanced, each trained to ply the dashing oar Assumed his seat ; in arms each warrior stood, Troop cheering troop through all the ships of war. Each to the appointed station steers his course ; And through the night his naval force each chief Fixed to secure the passes. Night advanced, But not by secret flight did Greece attempt T' escape. The morn, all beauteous to behold, Drawn by white steeds bounds o'er th' enlightened earth At once from ev'ry Greek with glad acclaim Burst forth the song of war, whose lofty notes The echo of the island rocks returned, Spreading dismay through Persia's hosts thus fallen From their high hopes ; no flight this solemn strain Portended, but deliberate valour bent On daring battle ; whilst the trumpet's sound Kindled the flames of war. But when their oars, The paean ended, with impetuous force Dashed the resounding surges, instant all Rushed on in view ; in orderly array The squadron on the right first led, behind Rode their whole fleet ; and now distinct we heard From ev'ry part this voice of exhortation : " Advance, ye sons of Greece, from thraldom save Your country, save your wives, your children save, The temples of your gods, the sacred tomb Where rest your honoured ancestors ; this day The common cause of all demands your valour." Meantime from Persia's hosts the deep'ning shout Answered their shout ; no time for cold delay ; But ship 'gainst ship its brazen beak impelled. First to the charge a Grecian galley rushed ; 111 the Phoenician bore the rough attack, Its sculptured prow all shattered. Each advanced 268 THE PERSIANS. Daring an opposite. The deep array Of Persia at the first sustained th' encounter But their thronged numbers, in the narrow seas Confined, want room for action ; and deprived Of mutual aid beaks clash with beaks, and each Breaks all the other's oars : with skill disposed The Grecian navy circled them around With fierce assault; and rushing from its height Th' inverted vessel sinks : the sea no more Wears its accustomed aspect, with foul wrecks And blood disfigured ; floating carcases Roll on the rocky shores ; the poor remains Of the barbaric armament to flight Ply ev'ry oar inglorious ; onward rush The Greeks amidst the ruins of the fleet, As through a shoal of fish caught in a net, Spreading destruction : the wide ocean o'er Wailings are heard, and loud laments, till night With darkness on her brow brought grateful truce. Should I recount each circumstance of woe, Ten times on my unfinished tale the sun Would set ; for be assured that not one day Could close the ruin of so vast an host. ATOS. Ah, what a boundless sea of woe bath burst On Persia, and the whole barbaric race ! MES. These are not half, not half our ills ; on these Came an assemblage of calamities, That sunk us with a double weight of woe. ATOS. What fortune can be more unfriendly to us Than this? Say on, what dread calamity Sunk Persia's host with greater weight of woe. MES. Whoe'er of Persia's warriors glowed in prime Of vig'rous youth, or felt their generous souls Expand with courage, or for noble birth THE Shone with distinguished lustre, or excelled In firm and duteous loyalty, all these Are fall'n, ignobly, miserably fall'n. ATOS. Alas their ruthless fate, unhappy friends ! But in what manner, tell me, did they perish ? MES. Full against Salamis an isle arises Of small circumference, to the anchored barque Unfaithful ; on the promontory's brow, That overlooks the sea, Pan loves to lead The dance ; to this the monarch sends these chiefs, That when the Grecians from their shattered ships Should here seek shelter, these might hew them down An easy conquest, and secure the strand To their sea-wearied friends ; ill judging what Th' event : but when the fav'ring god to Greece Gave the proud glory of this naval fight, Instant in all their glitt'ring arms they leaped From their light ships, and all the island round Encompassed, that our bravest stood dismayed ; Whilst broken rocks whirled with tempestuous force, And storms of arrows crushed them ; then the Greeks Rush to th' attack at once, and furious spread The carnage, till each mangled Persian fell. Deep were the groans of Xerxes, when he saw This havoc j for his seat, a lofty mound Commanding the wide sea, o'erlooked his hosts. With rueful cries he rent his royal robes, And through his troops embattled on the shore Gave signal of retreat ; then started wild, And fled disordered. To the former ills These are fresh miseries to awake thy sighs. ATOS. Invidious fortune, how thy baleful power Hath sunk the hopes of Persia ! Bitter fruit My son hath tasted from his purposed vengeance 69 270 THE PERSIANS. On Athens famed for arms ; the fatal field Of Marathon, red with barbaric blood, Sufficed not ; that defeat he thought t' avenge, And pulled this hideous ruin on his head. But tell me, if thou canst, where didst thou leave The ships, that happily escaped the wreck ? MES. The poor remains of Persia's scattered fleet Spread ev'ry sail for flight, as the wind drives, In wild disorder. And on land no less The ruined army ; in Bceotia some, With thirst oppressed, at Crene's cheerful rills Were lost ; forespent with breathless speed some pass The fields of Phocis, some the Doric plain, And near the gulf of Melia, the rich vale Through which Sperchius rolls his friendly stream. Achaia thence and the Thessalian state Received our famished train ; the greater part Through thirst and hunger perished there, oppressed At once by both : but we our painful steps Held onwards to Magnesia, and the land Of Macedonia, o'er the ford of Axius, And Bolbe's sedgy marches, and the heights Of steep Panggeos, to the realms of Thrace. That night, ere yet the season, breathing frore Rushed winter, and with ice encrusted o'er The flood of sacred Strymon : such as owned No god till now, awe-struck, with many a prayer Adored the earth and sky. When now the troops Had ceased their invocations to the gods, O'er the stream's solid crystal they began Their march ; and we, who took our early way Ere the sun darted his warm beams, passed safe : But when his burning orb with fiery rays Unbound the middle current, down they sunk THE PERSIANS. 271 Each over other ; happiest he who found The speediest death ; the poor remains that 'scaped, With pain through Thrace dragged on their toilsome march, A feeble fe\v, and reached their native soil ; That Persia sighs through all her States, and mourns Her dearest youth. This is no feigned tale ; But many of the ills, that burst upon us In dreadful vengeance, I refrain to utter. CHOR. O fortune, heavy with affliction's load, How hath thy foot crushed all the Persian race ! ATOS. Ah me, what sorrows for our ruined host Oppress my soul ! Ye visions of the night Haunting my dreams, how plainly did you show These ills ! You set them in too fair a light. Yet, since your bidding hath in this prevailed, First to the gods wish I to pour my prayers, Then to the mighty dead present my off' rings, Bringing libations from my house : too late, I know, to change the past ; yet for the future, If haply better fortune may await it. Behoves you, on this sad event, to guide Your friends with faithful counsels. Should my son Return ere I have finished, let your voice Speak comfort to him ; friendly to his house Attend him, nor let sorrow rise on sorrows. Strophe. Awful sovereign of the skies, When now o'er Persia's numerous host Thou bad'st the storm with ruin rise, All her proud vaunts of glory lost, Ecbatana's imperial head By thee was wrapt in sorrow's dark'ning sli-de Through Susa's palaces with loud lament, 272 THE PERSIANS. By their soft hands their veils all rent, The copious tear the virgins pour, That trickles their bare bosoms o'er. From her sweet couch up starts the widowed bride, Her lord's loved image rushing on her soul, Throws the rich ornaments of youth aside, And gives her griefs to flow without control : Her griefs not causeless ; for the mighty slain Our melting tears demand, and sorrow-softened strain, Antistrophe. Now her wailings wide despair Pours these exhausted regions o'er ; Xerxes, ill-fated, led the war ; Xerxes, ill-fated, leads no more ; Xerxes sent forth th' unwise command, The crowded ships unpeopled all the land ; . That land, o'er which Darius held his reign, Courting the arts of peace, in vain, O'er all his grateful realms adored, The stately Susa's gentle lord. Black o'er the waves his burdened vessels sweep, For Greece elate the warlike squadrons fly ; Now crushed and whelmed beneath th' indignant deep The shattered wrecks and lifeless heroes lie : Whilst, from the arms of Greece escaped, with toil Th' unsheltered monarch roams o'er Thracia's dreary soil. Epode. The first in battle slain By Cychrea's craggy shore Through sad constraint, ah me ! forsaken lie, All pale and smeared with gore ; Raise high the mournful strain, THE PERSIANS. 273 And let the voice of anguish pierce the sky : Or roll beneath the roaring title, By monsters rent of touch abhorred ; Whilst through the widowed mansion echoing wide Sounds the deep groan, and wails its slaughtered lord : Pale with his fears the helpless orphan there Gives the full stream of plaintive grief to flow; Whilst age its hoary head in deep despair Bends, listening to the shrieks of woe. With sacred awe The Persian law No more shall Asia's realms revere ; To their lord's hand, At his command, No more the exacted tribute bear. Who now falls prostrate at the monarch's throne ? His regal greatness is no more. Now no restraint the wanton tongue shall own, Free from the golden curb of power ; For on the rocks, washed by the beating flood, His awe-commanding nobles lie in blood. ATOSSA, CHORUS. ATOSSA. Whoe'er, my friends, in the rough stream of life Hath struggled with affliction, thence is taught That, when the flood begins to swell, the heart Fondly fears all things : when the fav'ring gale Of fortune smooths the current, it expands With unsuspecting confidence, and deems That gale shall always breathe. So to my eyes All things now wear a formidable shape, And threaten from the gods : my ears are pierced With sounds far other than of song. Such ills Dismay my sick'ning soul : hence from my house. 274 THE PERSIANS. Nor glitt'ring car attends me, nor the train Of wonted state, whilst I return, and bear Libations soothing to the father's shade In the son's cause ; delicious milk, that foams White from the sacred heifer : liquid honey, Extract of flowers ; and from its virgin fount The running crystal ; this pure draught, that flowed From th' ancient vine, of power to bathe the spirits In joy; the yellow olive's fragrant fruit, That glories in its leaves' unfading verdure ; With flowers of various hues, earth's fairest offspring, Inwreathed. But you, my friends, amidst these rites Raise high your solemn warblings, and invoke Your lord, divine Darius ; I meanwhile Will pour these off'rings to the infernal gods. CHOR. Yes, royal lady, Persia's honoured grace, To earth's dark chambers pour thy off'rings ; we With choral hymns will supplicate the powers That guide the dead, to be propitious to us. And you, that o'er the realms of night extend Your sacred sway, the mighty earth, and thee Hermes ; thee chief, tremendous king, whose throne Awes with supreme dominion, I adjure : Send, from your gloomy regions, send his shade Once more to visit this ethereal light ; That he alone, if aught of dread event He sees yet threat'ning Persia, may disclose To us poor mortals Fate's extreme decree. Hears the honoured godlike king? These barbaric notes of woe, Taught in descant sad to ring, Hears he in the shades below? Thou, O Earth, and you, that lead Through your sable realms the dead, THE PERSIANS. 275 Guide him as he takes his way, And give him to th' ethereal light of day ! Let th' illustrious shade arise Glorious in his radiant state, More than blazed before our eyes, Ere sad Susa mourned his fate. Dear he lived, his tomb is dear, Shining virtues we revere, Send then, monarch of the dead, Such as Darius was, Darius' shade. He in realm-unpeopling war Wasted not his subjects' blood, Godlike in his will to spare, In his councils wise and good. Rise then, sovereign lord, to light ; On this mound's sepulchral height Lift thy sock in saffron dyed, And rear thy rich tiara's regal pride ! Great and good, Darius, rise : Lord of Persia's lord, appear, Thus invoked with thrilling cries Come, our tale of sorrow hear ! Woe her Stygian pennons spreads, Brooding darkness o'er our heads ; For stretched along the dreary shore The flower of Asia lies distained with gore. Rise, Darius, awful power ; Long for thee our tears shall flow. Why thy ruined empire o'er Swells this double flood of woe ? Sweeping o'er the azure tide Rode thy navy's gallant pride j Navy now no more, for all Beneath the whelming wave eye THE PERSIANS. GHOST OF DARIUS, ATOSSA, CHORUS. DARIUS. Ye faithful Persians, honoured now in age, Once the companions of my youth, what ills Afflict the State? The firm earth groans, it opes, Disclosing its vast deeps ; and near my tomb I see my wife : this shakes my troubled soul With fearful apprehensions ; yet her off rings Pleased I received. And you around my tomb Chanting the lofty strain, whose solemn air Draws forth the dead, with grief-attempered notes Mournfully call me : not with ease the way Leads to this upper air ; and the stern gods, Prompt to admit, yield not a passage back But with reluctance : much with them my power Availing, with no tardy step I come. Say then, with what new ill doth Persia groan ? CHOR. My wonted awe o'ercomes me ; in thy presence I dare not raise my eyes, I dare not speak. DAR. Since from the realms below, by thy sad strains Adjured, I come, speak, let thy words be brief, Say whence thy grief, tell me unawed by fear. CHOR. I dread to forge a flattering tale, I dread To grieve thee with a harsh offensive truth. [dame, DAR. Since fear hath chained his tongue, high-honoured Once my imperial consort, check thy tears, Thy griefs ; and speak distinctly. Mortal man Must bear his lot of woe; afflictions rise Many from sea, many from land, if life Be haply measured through a lengthened course. ATOS. O thou, that graced with fortune's choicest gifts Surpassing mortals, whilst thine eye beheld Yon sun's ethereal rays, liv'dst like a god Blest 'midst thy Persians ; blest I deem thee now THE PERSIANS. 27-7 In death, ere sunk in this abyss of ills ; Darius, hear at once our sum of woe, Ruin through all her States hath crushed thy Persia. DAR. By pestilence, or faction's furious storms ? ATOS. Not so : near Athens perished ail our troops. DAR. Say, of my sons which led the forces thither ? ATOS. The impetuous Xerxes, thinning all the land. DAR. By sea or land dared he this rash attempt ? ATOS. By both : a double front the war presented. DAR. A host so vast what march conducted o'er ? ATOS. From shore to shore he bridged the Hellespont. DAR. What, could he chain the mighty Bosphorus ? ATOS. E'en so, some god assisting his design. DAR. Some god of power to cloud his better sense. ATOS. Th' event now shows what mischiefs he achieved. DAR. What suffered they, for whom your sorrows flow ? ATOS. His navy sunk spreads ruin through the camp. DAR. Fell all his host beneath the slaught'ring spear ? ATOS. Susa, through all her streets, mourns her lost sons. DAR. How vain the succour, the defence of arms ! ATOS. In Bactra age and grief are only left. DAR. Ah, what a train of warlike youth is lost ! ATOS. Xerxes, astonished, desolate, alone DAR. How will this end? Nay, pause not. Is he safe? ATOS. Fled o'er the bridge, that joined the adverse strands. DAR. And reached this shore in safety ? Is this true ? ATOS. True are thy words, and not to be gainsaid. DAR. With what a winged course the oracles Haste their completion ! With the lightning's speed Jove on my son hath hurled his threatened vengeance : Yet I implored the gods that it might fall In time's late process : but when rashness drives Impetuous on, the scourge of Heaven upraised 278 THE PERSIANS. Lashes the fury forward ; hence these ills Pour headlong on my friends. Not weighing this My son, with all the fiery pride of youth, Hath quickened their arrival, whilst he hoped To bind the sacred Hellespont, to hold The raging Bosphorus, like a slave, in chains. And dared th' advent'rous passage, bridging firm With links of solid iron his wondrous way, To lead his numerous host ; and, swelled with thoughts Presumptuous, deemed, vain mortal, that his power Should rise above the gods, and Neptune's might. And was not this the frenzy of the soul ? But much I fear lest all my treasured wealth Fall to some daring hand an easy prey. ATOS. This from too frequent converse with bad men Th' impetuous Xerxes learned : these caught his ear With thy great deeds, as winning for thy sons Vast riches with thy conquering spear, whilst he Tim'rous and slothful never, save in sport, Lifted his lance, nor added to the wealth Won by his noble fathers. This reproach, Oft by bad men repeated, urged his soul T' attempt this war, and lead his troops to Greece. DAR. Great deeds have they achieved, and memorable For ages : never hath this wasted State Suffered such ruin, since Heaven's awful king Gave to one lord Asia's extended plains White with innumerous flocks, and to his hands Consigned th' imperial sceptre. Her brave hosts A Mede first led. The virtues of his son Fixed firm the empire, for his temperate soul Breathed prudence. Cyrus next, by fortune graced, Adorned the throne, and blessed his grateful friends With peace : he to his mighty monarchy THE PERSIANS. 279 Joined Lydia, and the Phrygians ; to his power Ionia bent reluctant ; but the gods With victory his gentle virtues crowned. His son then wore the regal diadem. Next, to disgrace his country, and to stain The splendid glories of this ancient throne, Rose Mardus : him with righteous vengeance fired Artaphrenes, and his confederate chiefs, Crushed in his palace : Maraphis assumed The sceptre : after him Artaphrenes. Me next to this exalted eminence, Crowning my great ambition, fortune raised; In many a glorious field my glittering spear Flamed in the van of Persia's numerous hosts ; But never wrought such ruin to the State. Xerxes, my son, in all the pride of youth Listens to youthful counsels, my commands No more remembered : hence, my hoary friends, Not the whole line of Persia's sceptred lords, You know it well, so wasted her brave sons. CHOR. Why this? To what fair end are these thy words Directed ? Sovereign lord, instruct thy Persians How, 'midst this ruin, best to guide their State. DAR. No more 'gainst Greece lead your embattled hosts ; Not though your deepening phalanx spreads the field Outnumbering theirs: their very earth fights for them. CHOR. What may thy words import? How fight for them? DAR. With famine it destroys your cumbrous train. CHOR. Choice levies, prompt for action, will we send. DAR. Those, in the fields of Greece that now remain, Shall not revisit safe the Persian shore. CHOR. What, shall not all the host of Persia pass Again from Europe o'er the Hellespont ? 2 8o THE PERSIANS. DAK. Of all their numbers few, if aught avails The faith of heaven-sent oracles to him That weighs the past, in their accomplishment Not partial : hence he left, in faithless hope Confiding, his selected train of heroes. These have their station where Asopus flows Wat'ring the plain, whose grateful currents roll Diffusing plenty through Boeotia's fields. There misery waits to crush them with the load Of heaviest ills, in vengeance for their proud And impious daring ; for where'er they held Through Greece their march, they feared not to profane The statues of the gods ; their hallowed shrines Emblazed, o'erturned their altars, and in ruins, Rent from their firm foundations, to the ground Levelled their temples. Such their frantic deeds, Nor less their sufferings : greater still await them ; For vengeance hath not wasted all her stores, The heap yet swells : for in Platsea's plains Beneath the Doric spear the clotted mass Of carnage shall arise, that the high mounds, Piled o'er the dead, to late posterity Shall give this silent record to men's eyes, That proud aspiring thoughts but ill beseem Weak mortals : for oppression, when it springs, Puts forth the blade of vengeance, and its fruit Yields a ripe harvest of repentant woe. Behold this vengeance, and remember Greece, Remember Athens : henceforth let not pride, Her present state disdaining, strive to grasp Another's, and her treasured happiness Shed on the ground : such insolent attempts Awake the vengeance of offended Jove. THE PERSIANS. But you, whose age demands more temperate thoughts, With words of well-placed counsel teach his youth To curb that pride, which from the gods calls down Destruction on his head. And thou, whose age The miseries of thy Xerxes sink with sorrow, Go to thy house, thence choose the richest robe, And meet thy son ; for through the rage of grief His gorgeous vestments from his royal limbs Are foully rent. With gentlest courtesy Soothe his affliction ; for his duteous ear, I know, will listen to thy voice alone. Now to the realms of darkness I descend. My ancient friends, farewell, and 'midst these ills Each day in pleasures bathe your drooping spirits, For treasured riches nought avail the dead. ATOSSA, CHORUS. < CHORUS. These many present, many future ills Denounced on Persia sink my soul with grief. ATOS. Unhappy fortune, what a tide of ills Bursts o'er me ! Chief this foul disgrace, which shows My son divested of his rich attire, His royal robes all rent, distracts my thoughts. But I will go, choose the most gorgeous vest, And haste to meet my son. Ne'er in his woes Will I forsake whom my soul holds most dear. CHORUS. Strop he i. Ye powers that rule the skies, Memory recalls our great, our happy fate, Our well-appointed state, The scenes of glory opening to our eyes, When this vast empire o'er 282 THE PERSIANS. The good Darius, with each virtue blest That forms a monarch's breast, Shielding his subjects with a father's care, Invincible in war, Extended like a god his awful power. Then spread our arms their glory wide, Guarding to peace her golden reign ; Each towered city saw with pride Safe from the toils of war her homeward marching train. Antistrophe i. Nor Halys' shallow strand He passed, nor from his palace moved his state ; He spoke ; his word was fate : What strong-based cities could his might withstand ? Not those that lift their heads Where to the sea the floods of Strymon pass, Leaving the huts of Thrace ; Nor those, that far th' extended ocean o'er Stand girt with many a tower ; Nor where the Hellespont his broad wave spreads ; Nor the firm bastion's rampired might, Whose foot the deep Propontis laves ; Nor those, that glorying in their height Frown o'er the Pontic sea, and shade his darkened waves. Strophe 2. Each sea-girt isle around Bowed to this monarch : humbled Lesbos bowed ; Paros, of its marble proud ; Naxos with vines, with olives Samos crowned : Him Myconus adored : Chios, the seat of beauty ; Andros steep, That stretches o'er the deep THE PERSIANS. 283 To meet the wat'ry Tenos ; him each bay Bound by th' Icarian sea, Him Melos, Gnidus, Rhodes confessed their lord : O'er Cyprus stretched his sceptred hand : Paphos and Solos owned his pcwer, And Salamis, whose hostile strand, The cause of all our woe, is red with Persian gore. Antistrophe 2. E'en the proud towns, that reared Sublime along th' Ionian coast their towers, Where wealth her treasures pours, Peopled from Greece, his prudent reign revered. With such unconquered might His hardy warriors shook th' embattled fields, Heroes that Persia yields, And those from distant realms that took their way, And wedged in close array Beneath his glittering banners claimed the fight. But now these glories are no more ; Farewell the big war's plumed pride : The gods have crushed this trophied power, Sunk are our vanquished arms beneath th' indignant tide. XERXES, CHORUS. XERXES. Ah me, how sudden have the storms of fate, Beyond all thought, all apprehension, burst On my devoted head ! O Fortune, Fortune I With what relentless fury hath thy hand Hurled desolation on the Persian race ; Woe unsupportable ! The tort'ring thought Of our lost youth comes rushing on my mind, And sinks me to the ground. O Jove, that I Had died with those brave men that died in fight ! 284 THE PERSIANS. CHOR. O thou afflicted monarch, once the lord Of marshalled armies, of the lustre beamed From glory's ray o'er Persia, of her sons The pride, the grace, whom ruin now hath sunk In blood ! T,h' unpeopled land laments her youth By Xerxes led to slaughter, till the realms Of death are gorged with Persians; for the flower Of all the realm, thousands, whose dreadful bows With arrowy shower annoyed the foe, are fall'n. XER. Your fall, heroic youths, distracts my soul. CHOR. And Asia sinking on her knee, O king, Oppressed, with griefs oppressed, bends to the earth. XER. And I, O wretched fortune, I was born To crush, to desolate my ruined country. CHOR. I have no voice, no swelling harmony, No descant, save these notes of woe, Harsh, and responsive to the sullen sigh, Rude strains, that unmelodious How, To welcome thy return. XER. Then bid them flow, bid the wild measures flow, Hollow, unmusical, the notes of grief ; They suit my fortune, and dejected state. CHOR. Yes, at thy royal bidding shall the strain Pour the deep sorrows of my soul ; The sufifrings of my bleeding country plain, And bid the mournful measures roll. Again the voice of wild despair With shrilling shrieks shall pierce the air ; For high the god of war his flaming crest Raised, with the fleet of Greece surrounded, The haughty arms of Greece with conquest blest, And Persia's withered force confounded, Dashed on the dreary beach her heroes slain, Or whelmed them in the darkened main, THE PERSIANS. 285 XER. To swell thy griefs ask every circumstance. CHOR. Where are thy valiant friends, thy chieftains where ? Pharnaces, Susas, and the might Of Pelagon, and Dotamas ? The spear Of Agabatas bold in fight ? Psammis in mailed cuirass drest, And Susiscanes' glittering crest ? XER. Dashed from the Tyrian vessel on the rocks Of Salamis they sunk, and smeared with gore The heroes on the dreary strand are stretched. CHOR. Where is Pharnuchus ? Ariomardus where, With every gentle virtue graced ? Lilaeus, that from chiefs renowned in war His high-descended lineage traced ? Where rears Sebalces his crown-circled head ? Where Tharybis to battles bred, Artembares. Hystjechmes bold, Memphis, Masistres sheathed in gold ? XER. Wretch that I am ! These on th' abhorred town Ogygian Athens, rolled their glowing eyes Indignant ; but at once in the fierce shock Of battle fell, dashed breathless on the ground. CHOR. There does the son of Batanochus lie, Through whose rich veins th' unsullied blood Of Susamus, down from the lineage high Of noble Mygabatas flowed : Alpistus, who with faithful care Numbered the deepening files of war, The monarch's eye ; on the ensanguined plain Low is the mighty warrior laid ? Is great .^Ebares 'mongst the heroes slain, And Partheus numbered with the dead ? Ah me ! those bursting groans deep-charged with woe The fate of Persia's princes show. 286 THE PERSIANS. XER. To my grieved memory thy mournful voice, Tuned to the saddest notes of woe, recalls My brave friends lost ; and my rent heart returns In dreadful symphony the sorrowing strain. CHOR. Yet once more shall 1 ask thee, yet once more, Where is the Mardian Xanthes' might, The daring chief, that from the Pontic shore Led his strong phalanx to the fight ? Anchares where, whose high-raised shield Flamed foremost in th' embattled field ? Where the high leaders of thy mail-clad horse, Daixis and Arsaces where ? Where Cigdagatas, and Lythimnas' force, Waving untired his purple spear ? XER. Entombed, I saw them in the earth entombed : Nor did the rolling car with solemn state Attend their rites : I followed : low they lie, Ah me, the once great leaders of my host Low in the earth, without their honours lie. CHOR. Oh woe, woe, woe ! Unutterable woe The demons of revenge have spread ; And Ate from her drear abode below Rises to view the horrid deed. XER. Dismay, and rout, and ruin, ills that wait On man's afflicted fortune, sink us down. CHOR. Dismay, and rout, and ruin on us wait, And all the vengeful storms of fate : 111 flows on ill, on sorrows sorrows rise ; Misfortune leads her baleful train ; Before th' Ionian squadrons Persia flies, Or sinks ingulfed beneath the main : Fall'n, fall'n is her imperial power, And conquest on her banners waits no more. XER. At such a fall, such troops of heroes lost, THE PERSIANS. 287 How can my soul but sink in deep despair ! Cease thy sad strain. CHOR. Is all thy glory lost ? XER. Seest thou these poor remains of my rent robes ? CHOR. I see, I see. XER. And this ill-furnished quiver ? CHOR. Wherefore preserved ? XER. To store my treasured arrows. CHOR. Few, very few. XER. And few my friendly aids. CHOR. I thought these Grecians shrunk appalled at arms. XER. No : they are bold and daring ; these sad eyes Beheld their violent and deathful deeds. CHOR. The ruin, say'st thou, of thy shattered fleet ? XER. And in the anguish of my soul I rent My royal robes. CHOR. Woe, woe ! XER. And more than woe. CHOR. Redoubled, threefold woe ! XER. Disgrace to me, But triumph to the foe. CHOR. Are all thy powers In ruin crushed ? XER. No satrap guards me now. CHOR. Thy faithful friends sunk in the roaring main. XER. Weep, weep their loss, and lead me to my house ; Answer my grief with grief, an ill return Of ills for ills. Yet once more raise that strain Lamenting my misfortunes ; beat thy breast, Strike, heave the groan ; awake the Mysian strain To notes of loudest woe ; rend thy rich robes, Pluck up thy beard, tear off thy hoary locks, And bathe thine eyes in tears : thus through the streets 288 THE PERSIANS. Solemn and slow with sorrow lead my steps ; Lead to my house, and wail the fate of Persia. CHOR. Yes, once more at thy bidding shall the strain Pour the deep sorrows^of my soul ; The sufifring of my bleeding country plain, And bid the Mysian measures roll. Again the voice of wild despair With shrilling shrieks shall pierce the air ; For high the god of war his flaming crest Raised, with the fleet of Greece surrounded, The haughty arms of Greece with conquest blest, And Persia's withered force confounded, Dashed on the dreary beach her heroes slain, Or whelmed them in the darkened main. PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE, HANSON AND CO- LONPON AND EDINBURGH SOUTLEDGE'S POPULAR POETS, Demy Svo, Cloth, 3s. 6d., with Illustrations, 1 Longfellow's Poetical Works. Complete Copyright Edition 2 Burns's Poetical Works, Edited by CHARLES KENT 3 Moore's Poetical Works, Edited by CHARLES KENT 4 Shakspere 5, 6, 7 Shakspere, Large Type, Edited by CHARLES KNIGHT, 3 Vols. 8 A Thousand and One Gems of English Poetry, Selected and Arranged by CHARLES MACK AY, LL.D. 9 The Ingoldsby Legends, with 22 full-page Illustrations, reproduced from the Original Designs by CRUIKSHANK and LEECH 10 Bailey's (P. J.) Festus 11 Byron's Poetical Works. Complete, with Memoir by W. B. SCOTT 12 Schiller's Poems and Plays, Edited by HENRY MOR- LEY, with Portrait 13 Wh ittier's Poetical Works, with Portrait 14 Bryant's PoeticalWorks, with Portrait and Memoir, by R. H. STODDARD 15 Willis's Poetical Works 16 Homer's Iliad and Odyssey. POPE'S Translation 17 Dante's Divine Comedy, LONGFELLOW'S Translation, with Notes 18 S ir Wai te r Scott's Poetical and Dramatic Works, with Memoir and Portrait 19 Lowell's Poetical Works 20 The Poetical Works of OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES, with Portrait 21 Milton's Poetical Works 22 Shelley's Poetical Works 23 Hood's Poetical Works 24 Mrs. Hemans's Poetical Works 25 Wordsworth's Poetical Works 26 Homes and Haunts of the British Poets, by WILLIAM How ITT 27 Southey'sPoeticalWorks 28 Keats's Poetical Works 29 Coleridge's Poetical Works 30 The Plays of Euripides GEORGE ROUTLEDGE & SONS, LIMITED, LONDON, MANCHESTER, AND NEW YORK. 50 VOLUMES, 2s. each. 1 Macaulay's Essays and Lays of Ancient Rome, complete Edition, 924 pages 2 The Spectator, complete Edition reproducing the original text. Edited by Professor II. MORLEY. 944 pages 3 Carlyle's French Revo- lution, complete Edition 4 Carlyle'sSartorResartus, Heroes and Hero \Yorship, Past and Present 5 Carlyle's Oliver Crom- well's Letters and Speeches 6 Book of Humour, Wit, and Wisdom 7 Cruden's Concordance to the Old and New Testaments. Edited by the Rev. C. S. CAKEY 8 The Arabian Nights' En- tertainments 9 Adventures of Don Quixote 10 Southey's Life of Nelson n Joseph us. Translated by WHISTON 12 Curiosities of Literature ISAAC p'lSRAELI 13 Amenities of Literature ISAAC D'ISRAELI 14 Miscellanies of Litera- ture. ISAAC D'ISRAELI 15 Boswell's Life of Dr. Johnson. 16 Montaigne's Essays 17 The Breakfast - Table Series, including the Autocrat, The Professor, and the Poet. O. W. HOLMES 18 Milman's History of the Jews 19 The Waverley Anecdotes 20 Rabelais' Works. Edited by HENUY MORLEY 21 Butler's Analogy of Reli- gion 22 Book of Epigrams. W. DAVENPORT ADAMS 23 England and the English. LORE LYTTON 24, 25, 26 Prescott's History of the Conquest of Mexico, 3 vols. 27, 28, 29 Prescott's History of the Conquest of Peru, 3 vols. 30, 31, 32 Napier's Peninsu- lar War, 3 vols. 33 Crabb's Dictionary of Synonyms 34 Stow's Survey of London 35 The Adventures of Gil Bias 36 Principles of Political Economy. JOHN STUART MILL 37 Popular Astronomy. O. M. MITCHELL 38 Plutarch's Lives 39 Emerson's Works 40 Long fellow's Prose Works 41, 42 Roscoe's Life of Leo the Tenth, 2 vols. 43 Goldsmith's Complete Works 44 Adam Smith's Wealth of Nations 45 Defoe's Journal of the Plague Year 46 Lord Lytton's Quarterly Essays 47 Walton and Cotton's Complete Angler 48, 49, 50 Motley's Dutch Republic, 3 vols. GEORGE ROUTLEDGE & SONS, LIMITED, LONDON, MANCHESTER, AND NEW YORK. POETRY AN 50 VOL Shakspere. Edited by CHARLES KNIGHT. Longfellow's Poetical Works, complete Edition, with 126 Copyright Poems, 762 pages Scott's Poetical Works, 640 pages Byron's Poetical Works, 752 pages Burns's Poetical Works, 512 pages The Ingoldsby Legends, 512 pages, with 22 Illustrations from Designs by CRUIKSHANK and LEECH Homer's Iliad and Odys- sey, POPE'S Translation Moore's Poetical Works, with Memoir by CHARLES KENT Mrs. Hemans's Poetical Works Hood's Poetical Works, Serious and Comic, 5 2 pages Shelley 7 *. Poetical Works, with Memoir by W. B. SCOTT Cowpers Poetical Works Milton's Poetical Works. From the Text of Dr. NEWTON Chaucer's Canterbury Tales Book of British Ballads. Edited by S. C. HALL Holmes's Poetical Works 17 Lowell's Poetical Works 18 Willis's Poetical Works 19 Poems by ELIZABETH BAR- RETT BROWNING 20 Dante's Divine Comedy. LONGFELLOW'S Translation, with Notes 21 Whittier'sPoeticalWorks 22 Bryant's Poetical Works 23 Campbell's Poetical Works 24 Coleridge's Poetical Works UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL tBRARYFACUTY 9 10 ii 12 13 M 15 16 A 000058217 1 25 Dodd's Beauties of Shakspeare 26 Herbert's Poetical Works 27 Keats's Poetical Works 28 Poe's Poetical Works 29 Wordsworth's Poetical Works 30 Percy's Reliques of An- cient English Poetry 31 Keble's The Christian Year 32 Comic Poets of the Nine- teenth Century. W. D. ADAMS 33 Spenser's Faerie Queene 34 Dryden's Poetical Works 35 Southey's Poetical Works 36 Byron's Don Juan 37 Lord Lytton's Dramas Vol. I 38 Virgil's /Eneid. DRYDEN 39 Marlowe's Faustus and Goethe's Faust 40 Horace Odes and Epodes. LORD LYTTON 41 Gray's Poems and Pope's Essay on Man, etc. 42 Hesiod. Translated by C. A. ELTON 43 Sheridan's Plays 44 Plays from Moliere. By DRYDEN, WYCHEKLEY, FIELD- ING, and others 45 Lord Lytton's Dramas VoL 2 46 Poems by Bret Harte 47 Sacred Poems 48 Shakspeare's Doubtful Plays. HAZLITT 49 Lord Lytton's King Arthur 50 Lord Lytton's New Timon