PM161 1905 c.2 U = o m — i | === X 1 — — XI 1 o m ^ == 2* 1 6 = SO 1 o m ^ 1 — J 3> 1 om ^^™ — ^ = x 1 8 ■ =^= 3=* ■ v = / — — r* 3> 1 6s :^= O ■ ^^ H 1 =5 -< 1 7 ~ LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF CAUfORHU ftlVEftStOf 29W4 DEMETER A MASK BY ROBERT BRIDGES OXFORD AT THE CLARENDON PRESS 190? 1 S f- .. HENRY FROWDE, M.A. PUBLISHER TO THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD LONDON, EDINBURGH NEW YORK AND TORONTO DEMETER A MASK Dreams & the light imaginings of men. 3 ARGUMENT OF THE PLAT The scene is in the flowery valley below Enna. Hades prologizes, and tells how he has come with consent of Zeus to carry off Persephone to be his queen. The Chorus of Ocean nymphs entering praise Sicily and the spring. Persephone enters with Athena and Artemis to gather flowers for the festival of Zeus. Persephone being left alone is carried off by Hades. In the second act, which is ten days later, the Chorus deplore the loss of Persephone. Demeter entering upbraids them in a choric scene and de- scribes her search for Persephone until she learnt her fate from Helios. Afterwards she describes her plan for compelling Zeus to restore her. Hermes brings from Zeus a command to Demeter that she shall return to Olympus. She sends defiance to Zeus, and the Chorus end the scene by vowing to win Poseidon to aid Demeter. In the third act, which is a year later, the Chorus, who have been summoned by Demeter to witness the DEMETER 3 restoration of Persephone, lament Demeter's anger. Demeter narrates the Eleusinian episode of her wanderings, until Hermes enters leading Persephone. After their greeting Demeter hears from Hermes the terms of Persephone's restoration ; she is reconciled thereto by Persephone, and invites her to Eleusis. The Chorus sing and crown Persephone with flowers. £ 1 DRAMATIS PERSONS HADES. DEMETER. PERSEPHONE. ATHENA. ARTEMIS. HERMES. Chorus of OCEANIDES. DEMETER "Cr> *Cr> 'Go "yfr"> tD" "G* HADES. I AM the King of Hell, nor prone to vex Eternal destiny with weak complaint ; Nor when I took my kingdom did I mourn My lot, from heav'n expell'd, deny'd to enjoy Its radiant revelry and ambrosial feast, Nor blamed our mighty Sisters, that not one Would share my empire in the shades of night. But when a younger race of gods arose, And Zeus set many sons on heav'nly seats, And many daughters dower'd with new domain, 10 And year by year were multiply'd on earth Their temples and their statu'd sanctities, Mirrors of man's ideas that grow apace, Yea, since man's mind was one with my desire That Hell should have a queen, — for heav'n hath queens Many, nor on all earth reigns any king 6 DEMETER In unkind isolation like to me, — I claimed from Zeus that of the fair immortals One should be given to me to grace my throne. Willing he was, and quick to praise my rule, 20 And of mere justice there had granted me Whome'er I chose : but £ Brother mine/ he said, c Great as my power among the gods, this thing I cannot compass, that a child of mine, Who once hath tasted of celestial life, Should all forgo, and destitute of bliss Descend into the shades, albeit to sit An equal on thy throne. Take whom thou wilt , But by triumphant force persuade, as erst I conquer'd heav'n.' Said I c My heart is set : 30 I take Demeter's child Persephone ; Dost thou consent ? ' Whereto he gave his nod. And I am come to-day with hidden powers, Ev'n unto Enna's fair Sicilian field, To rob her from the earth. 'Tis here she wanders With all her train : nor is this flow'ry vale Fairer among the fairest vales of earth, Nor any flower wit-tun this flow'ry vale Fair above other flowers, as she is fairest Among immortal goddesses, the daughter 4.0 Of gentle-eyed Dcmeter ; and her passion Is for the flowc_ , and every tenderness DEMETER 7 That I have long'd for in my fierce abodes. But she hath always in attendant guard The dancing nymphs of Ocean, and to-day The wise Athena and chaste Artemis Indulge her girlish fancy, gathering flowers To deck the banner of my golden brother, Whose thought they guess not, tho' their presence here Affront his will and mine. If once alone 50 I spy her, I can snatch her swiftly down • And after shall find favour for my fault, When I by gentle means have won her love. I hear their music now. Hither they come : I'll to my ambush in the rocky cave. [Exit. A C T • I Enter Chorus of Oceanides, with baskets. 0CEAN1DES. Gay and lovely is earth, man's decorate dwelling ; With fresh beauty ever varying hour to hour. As now bathed in azure joy she awakeneth With bright morn to the sun's life-giving effluence, Or sunk into solemn darkness aneath the stars 60 In mysterious awe slumbereth out the night, Then from darkness again plunging again to day ; Like dolphins in a swift herd that accompany Poseidon's chariot when he rebukes the waves. But no country to me 'neath the enarching air Is fair as Sicily's flowery fruitful isle : Always lovely, whether winter adorn the hills With his silvery snow, or generous summer Outpour her heavy gold on the river- valleys. I] DEMETER 9 Her rare beauty giveth gaiety unto man, 70 A delight dear to immortals. x And one season of all chiefly deliteth us. When fair Spring is afield. O happy is the Spring ! Now birds early arouse their pretty minstreling j Now down its rocky hill murmureth ev'ry rill ; Now all bursteth anew, wantoning in the dew Their bells of bonny blue, their chalices honey'd. Unkind frost is away; now sunny is the day; Now man thinketh aright, Life it is all delite. Now maids playfully dance o'er enamel'd meadows, 80 And with goldy blossom deck forehead and bosom ; While old Pan rollicketh thro' the budding shadows, Voicing his merry reed, laughing aloud to lead The echoes madly rejoicing. 3 We be Oceanids, Persephone's lovers, Who all came hurrying joyfully from the sea Ere daybreak to obey her beloved summons. At her fancy to pluck these violets, lilies, Windflow'rs and dafodils, all for a festival Whereat she will adorn Zeuses honor'd banner. 90 And with Persephone there cometh Artemis And grave Pallas . . . Hilloo ! already they approach ! Haste, haste ! stoop to gather ! seem busy ev'ryone ! io DEMETER [l Crowd all your wicker arcs with the meadow-lilies ; Lest our disreverenc'd deity should rebuke The divine children of Ocean. [Enter ATHENA, PERSEPHONE, and ARTEMIS. Persephone has a basket half fill'd with gather d flowers.] ATHENA. These then are Enna's flowery fields, and here In midmost isle the garden of thy choice ? PERSEPHONE. Is not all as I promist ? Feel ye not Your earthborn ecstasy concenter'd here? ioo Tell me, Athena, of thy wisdom, whence Cometh this joy of earth, this penetrant Palpitant exultation so unlike The balanc't calm of high Olympian state ? Is't in the air, the tinted atmosphere Whose gauzy veil, thrown on the hills, will paint Their features, changing with the gradual day, Rosy or azure, clouded now, and now Again afire ? Or is it that the sun's Electric beams — which shot in circling fans no Whirl all things with them — as they strike the earth Excite her yearning heart, till stir'd beneath I] DEMETER n The rocks and silent plains, she cannot hold Her fond desires, but sends them bursting forth In scents and colourM blossoms of the spring ? — Breathes it not in the flowers ? ATH. Fair are the flowers, Dear child ; and yet to me far lovelier Than all their beauty is thy love for them. Whate'er I love, I contemplate my love More than the object, and am so rejoic'd. no For life is one, and like a level sea Life's flood of joy. Thou wond'rest at the flowers, But I would teach thee wonder of thy wonder j Would shew thee beauty in the desert-sand, The worth of things unreckt of, and the truth That thy desire and love may spring of evil And ugliness, and that Earth's ecstasy May dwell in darkness also, in sorrow and tears. PER. I'd not believe it : why then should we pluck The flowers and not the stalks without the flowers ? Or do thy stones breathe scent? Would not men laugh 131 To see the banner of almighty Zeus Adorn'd with ragged roots and straws? — Dear Artemis, How lovest thou the flowers ? ix DEMETER [1 ARTEMIS. I'll love them better Ever for thy sake, Cora ; but for me The joy of Earth is in the breath of life And animal motions : nor are flowery sweets Dear as the scent of life. This petal'd cup, What is it by the wild fawn's liquid eye Eloquent as love-music 'neath the moon ? 14.0 Nay, not a flower in all thy garden here, Nor wer't a thousand-thousand-fold enhanc't In every charm, but thou wouldst turn from it To view the antler'd stag, that in the glade With the coy gaze of his majestic fear Faced thee a moment ere he turn'd to fly. PER. But why, then, hunt and kill what thou so lovest ? AR. Dost thou not pluck thy flowers ? PER. 'Tis not the same. Thy victims fly for life : they pant, they scream. AR. Were they not mortal, sweet, I coud not kill them. if° They kill each other in their lust for life ; Nay, cruelly persecute their blemisht kin : And they that thus are exiled from the herd Slink heart-brok'n to sepulchral solitudes, Defenceless and dishonour'd ; there to fall I] DEMETER 13 Prey to the hungry glutton of the cave, Or stand in mute pain lingering, till they drop In their last lair upon the ancestral bones. PER. What is it that offends me ? ATH. Tis Pity, child, The mortal thought that clouds the brow of man 160 With dark reserve, or poisoning all delite Drives him upon his knees in tearful prayer To avert his momentary qualms : till Zeus At his reiterated plaint grows wrath, And burdens with fresh curse the curse of care. And they that haunt with men are apt to take Infection of his mind : thy mighty mother Leans to his tenderness. PER. How should man, dwelling On earth that is so gay, himself be sad ? Is not earth gay ? Look on the sea, the sky, 170 The flowers ! ATH. 'Tis sad to him because 'tis gay. — For whether he consider how the flowers, Thy miracles of beauty above praise, — Are wither'd in the moment of their glory, So that of all the mounting summer's wealth The show is chang'd each day, and each day dies, Of no more count in Nature's estimate Than crowded bubbles of the fighting foam : 1+ DEMETER [l Or whether 'tis the sea, whose azure waves Play'd in the same infinity of motion 180 Ages ere he beheld it, and will play For ages after him ; — alike 'tis sad To read how beauty dies and he must die. PER. Were I a man, I would not worship thee, Thou cold essential wisdom. If, as thou sayst, Thought makes men sorrowful, why help his thought To quench enjoyment, who might else as I Revel among bright things, and feast his sense With beauty well-discern'd ? Nay, why came ye To share my pastime ? Ye love not the flowers, ipo ATH. Indeed I love thee, child ; and love thy flowers, — Nor less for loving wisely. All emotions, Whether of gods or men, all loves and passions, Are of two kinds; they are either inform'd by wisdom, To reason obedient, — or they are unconducted, Flames of the burning life. The brutes of earth And Pan their master know these last ; the first Are seen in me : betwixt the extremes there lie Innumerable alloys and all of evil. PER. Nay, and I guess your purpose with me well : I am a child, and ye would nurse me up 201 A pupil in your school. I know ye twain Of all the immortals are at one in this j I] DEMETER i? Ye wage of cold disdain a bitter feud With Aphrodite, and ye fear for me, Lest she should draw me to her wanton way. Fear not : my party is taken. Hark ! I'll tell What I have chosen, what mankind shall hold Devote and consecrate to me on earth : It is the flowers : but only among the flowers 210 Those that men love for beauty, scent, or hue, Having no other uses : I have found Demeter, my good mother, heeds them not. — She loves vines, olives, orchards, c the rich leas Of wheat, rye, barley, vetches, oats, and peas,' But for the idle flowers she hath little care : She will resign them willingly. And think not, Thou wise Athena, I shall go unhonor'd, Or rank a meaner goddess unto man. His spirit setteth beauty before wisdom, 2*0 Pleasures above necessities, and thus He ever adoreth flowers. Nor this I guess Where rich men only and superfluous kings Around their palaces reform the land To terraces and level lawns, whereon Appointed slaves are told, to tend and feed Lilies and roses and all rarest plants Fetch'd from all lands ; that they — these lordly men — 'Twixt flaunting avenues and wafted odours 16 DEMETER [l May pace in indolence : this is their bliss ; 130 This first they do : and after, it may be, Within their garden set their academe : — But in the poorest villages, around The meanest cottage, where no other solace Comforts the eye, some simple gaiety Of flowers in tended garden is seen j some pinks, Tulips, or crocuses that edge the path ; Where oft at eve the grateful labourer Sits in his jasmin'd porch, and takes the sun : And even the children, that half-naked go, 14.0 Have posies in their hands, and of themselves Will choose a queen in whom to honour Spring, Dancing before her garlanded with May. The cowslip makes them truant, they forget The hour of hunger and their homely feast So they may cull the delicate primrose, Sealing their birthright with the touch of beauty • With unconsider'd hecatombs assuring Their dim sense of immortal mystery. — Yea, rich and poor, from cradle unto grave 250 All men shall love me, shall adore my name, And heap my everlasting shrine with flowers. ATH. Thou sayest rightly thou art a child. May Zeus Give thee a better province than thy thought. [Music beard. I] DEMETER i 7 AR. Listen ! the nymphs are dancing. Let us go ! [They move off. Come, Cora ; wilt thou learn a hunting dance ? I'll teach thee. PER. Can I learn thy hunter-step Without thy bare legs and well-buskin'd feet ? AR. Give me thy hand. PER. Stay ! stay ! I have left my flowers. I follow. 26b [Exeunt Athena and Artemis. ^Persephone returning to right slowly. They understand not — Now, praise be to Zeus, That, tho' I sprang not from his head, I know Something that Pallas knows not. [She has come to where her basket lies. In stooping towards it she kneels to pluck a flower : and then comes to sit on a bank with the basket in hand on her knees ', facing the audience A Thou tiny flower ! Art thou not wise ? Who taught thee else, thou frail anemone, Thy starry notion, thy wind-wavering motion, Thy complex of chaste beauty, unimagin'd Till thou art seen ? — And how so wisely, thou, Indifferent to the number of thy rays, 270 While others are so strict ? This six-leaved tulip, c 18 DEMETER [i — He would not risk a seventh for all his worth, — He thought to attain unique magnificence By sheer simplicity — a pointed oval Bare on a stalk erect : and yet, grown old He will his young idea quite abandon, In his disheveld fury wantoning Beyond belief . . . Some are four-leaved : this poppy Will have but four. He, like a hurried thief, Stuffs his rich silks into too small a bag — 280 I think he watch'd a summer-butterfly Creep out all crumpled from his winter-case, Trusting the sun to smooth his tender tissue And sleek the velvet of his painted wings : — And so doth he Between such different schemes, Such widely varied loveliness, how choose ? Yet loving all, one should be most belov'd, Most intimately mine ; to mortal men My emblem : tho' I never find in one The sum of all distinctions. — Rose were best : a^o But she is passion's darling, and unkind To handle — set her by. — Choosing for odour, The violet were mine — men call her modest, Because she hides, and when in company Lacks manner and the assertive style of worth : — While this narcissus here scorns modesty, Will stand up what she is, tho' something prim : I] DEMETER i 9 Her scent, a saturation of one tone, Like her plain symmetry, leaves nought to fancy : — Whereas this iris, — she outvieth man's 300 Excellent artistry ; elaboration Confounded with simplicity, till none Can tell which sprang of which. Coud I but find A scented iris, I should be content : Yet men would call me proud : Iris is Pride. — To-day I'll favour thee, sweet violet; Thou canst live in my bosom. I'll not wrong thee Wearing thee in Olympus. — Help ! help ! Ay me ! [ Persephone rises to her feet, and amidst a contrivance of confused darkness Hades is seen rushing from behind. He seizes her and drags her backward. Her basket is thrown up and the flowers scattered.] C 2 ACT • n CHORUS. 1(a) Bright day succeedeth unto day — Night to pensive night — 3 1 o With his towering ray Of all-fathering light — With the solemn trance Of her starry dance. — Nought is new or strange In the eternal change. — As the light clouds fly O'er the tree-tops high, So the days go by. — Ripples that arrive 520 On the sunny shore, Dying to their live Music evermore. — II] DEMETER 21 Like pearls on a thread, — Like notes of a song, — Like the measur'd tread Of a dancing throng. — .08) Oceanides are we, Nereids of the foam, But we left the sea 330 On the earth to roam With the fairest Queen That the world hath seen. — Why amidst our play Was she sped away ? — Over hill and plain We have sought in vain j She comes not again. — Not the Naiads knew On their dewy lawns : — 340 Not the laughing crew Of the leaping Fauns. — Now, since she is gone, All our dance is slow, All our joy is done, And our song is woe. — 2x DEMETER [II II Saw ye the mighty Mother, where she went Searching the land ? Nor night nor day resting from her lament, With smoky torch in hand. ^o Her godhead in the passion of a sorrow spent Which not her mind coud suffer, nor heart with- stand ? — Enlanguor'd like a fasting lioness, That prowls around Robb'd of her whelps, in fury comfortless Until her lost be found : Implacable and terrible in her wild distress j And thro' the affrighted country her roars resound. — But lo ! what form is there ? Thine eyes awaken ! See ! see ! O say, 360 Is not that she, the furious, the forsaken ? She cometh, lo ! this way ; Her golden-rippling hair upon her shoulders shaken, And all her visage troubled with deep dismay. II] DEMETER 23 Enter Demeter. DEM. Here is the hateful spot, the hollow rock Whence the fierce ravisher sprang forth — (seeing the nymphs) Ah ! ye ! I know you well : ye are the nymphs of Ocean. Ye, graceful as your watery names And idle as the mimic flames That skip upon his briny floor, 370 When the hot sun smiteth thereo'er ; Why did ye leave your native waves ? Did false Poseidon, to my hurt Leagued with my foe, bid you desert Your opalescent pearly caves, Your dances on the shelly strand ? CH. Poseidon gave us no command, Lady ; it was thy child Persephone, Whose beauty drew us from the sea. DEM. Ill company ye lent, ill-fated guards! 380 How was she stolen from your distracted eyes ? CH. There, where thou standest now, stood she companioned By wise Athena and bright Artemis. We in flower-gathering dance and idle song Were wander'd off apart ; we fear'd no wrong. DEM. In heav'n I heard her cry : ye nothing heard ? H DEMETER [U CH. We heard no cry — How coudst thou hear in heaven ? Ask us not of her : — we have nought to tell DEM . I seek not knowledge of you, for I know. CH. Thou knowest? Ah, mighty Queen, deign then to tell ,q If thou hast found her. Tell us — tell us tell ! DEM . Oh, there are calls that love can hear, That strike not on the outward ear. None heard save I : but with a dart Of lightning-pain it pierc'd my heart, That call for aid, that cry of fear. It echo'd from the mountain-steeps Down to the dark of Ocean-deeps • O'er all the isle, from ev'ry hill It pierc'd my heart and echoes still, 400 Ay me ! Ay me ! CH. Where is she, O mighty Queen ? — Tell us O tell !— DEM. Swift unto earth, in frenzy led By Cora's cry, from heav'n I sped. Immortal terror froze my mind : I fear'd, ev'n as I yearn'd to find My child, my joy, fain from my care Wrong'd or distresst, I knew not where, Cora, my Cora ! II] DEMETER 2? Nor thought I whither first to fly, 410 Answ'ring the appeal of that wild cry : But still it drew me till I came To Enna, calling still her name, Cora, my Cora ! CH. If thou hast found her, tell us, Queen, O tell ! DEM. Nine days I wander'd o'er the land. From Enna to the eastern strand I sought, and when the first night came I lit my torch in Etna's flame. But neither 'mid the chestnut woods 420 That rustle o'er his stony floods ; Nor yet at daybreak on the meads Where bountiful Symaethus leads His chaunting boatmen to the main ; Nor where the road on Hybla's plain Is skirted by the spacious corn j Nor where embattled Syracuse With lustrous temple fronts the morn • Nor yet by dolphin'd Arethuse ; Nor when I crossed Anapus wide, 430 Where Cyane, his reedy bride, Uprushing from her crystal well, Doth not his cold embrace repel ; Nor yet by western Eryx, where Gay Aphrodite high in air i6 DEMETER [II Beams gladness from her marble chair ; Nor 'mong the mountains that enfold Panormos in her shell of gold, Found I my Cora : no reply Came to my call, my helpless cry, 440 Cora, my Cora ! CH. Hast thou not found her, then? Tell us — Otell! DEM. What wonder that I never found Her whom I sought on mortal ground, When she — (now will ye understand ?) — Dwelt in the land that is no land, The fruitless and unseason'd plain Where all lost things are found again • Where man's distract imaginings Head-downward hang on bat-like wings, 4.5-0 'Mid mummied hopes, sleep-walking cares, Crest-fain illusions and despairs, The tortur'd memories of crime, The outcasts of forgotten time? CH. Where is she, Queen ? — where ? — where ? DEM. Nor had I known, Had not himself high Helios seen and told me. CH. Alas! Alas! we cannot understand — We pray, dear Queen, may great Zeus comfort thee. DEM. Yea, pray to Zeus ; but pray ye for yourselves, II] DEMETER 17 That he have pity on you, for there is need. 460 Or let Zeus hear a strange, unwonted prayer That in his peril he will aid himself- For I have said, nor coud his Stygian oath Add any sanction to a mother's word, That, if he give not back my daughter to me, Him will I slay, and lock his pining ghost In sleepy prisons of unhallowing hell. CH. (aside) Alas! alas! she is distraught with grief— What comfort can we make? — How reason with her ? — +69 (to D.) This coud not be, great Queen. How coud it be That Zeus should be destroy'd, or thou destroy him ? DEM. Yea, and you too: so make your prayer betimes. CH, We pray thee, Lady, sit thou on this bank And we will bring thee food ; or if thou thirst, Water. We know too in what cooling caves The sly Fauns have bestow'd their skins of wine. DEM. Ye simple creatures, I need not these things, And stand above your pity. Think ye me A woman of the earth derang'd with grief? Nay, nay : but I have pity on your pity, 480 And for your kindness I will ease the trouble Wherewith it wounds your gentleness : attend ! i8 DEMETER [ll Ye see this jewel here, that from my neck Hangs by this golden chain. \They crowd near to see. Look, 'tis a picture, 5 Tis of Persephone. CH. How ?— Is that she ?— A crown she weareth. — She was never wont Thus . . — nor her robe thus — and her countenance Hath not the smile which drew us from the sea. DEM. Daedalus cut it, in the year he made The Zibian Aphrodite, and Hephaestus 490 O'erlookt and praised the work. I treasure it Beyond all other jewels that I have, And on this chain I guard it. Say now : think ye It cannot fall loose until every link Of all the chain be broken, or if one Break, will it fall ? CH. Surely if one break, Lady, The chain is broken and the jewel falls. DEM. J Tis so. Now hearken diligently. All life Is as this chain, and Zeus is as the jewel. The universal life dwells first in the Earth, yoo The stones and soil ; therefrom the plants and trees Exhale their being • and on them the brutes Feeding elaborate their sentient life, And from these twain mankind; and in mankind II] DEMETER 29 A spirit lastly is form'd of subtler sort Whereon the high gods live, sustain'd thereby, And feeding on it, as plants on the soil, Or animals on plants. Now see ! I hold, As well ye know, one whole link of this chain : If I should kill the plants, must not man perish ? 510 And if he perish, then the gods must die. CH. If this were so, thou wouldst destroy thyself. DEM. And therefore Zeus will not believe my word . CH. Nor we believe thee, Lady : it cannot be That thou shouldst seek to mend a private fortune By universal ruin, and restore Thy daughter by destruction of thyself. DEM. Ye are not mothers, or ye would not wonder. In me, who hold from great all-mother Rhea Heritage of essential motherhood, 520 Ye would look rather for unbounded passion. Coud I, the tenderness of Nature's heart, Exist, were I unheedful to protect From wrong and ill the being that I gave, The unweeting passions that I fondly nurtured To hopes of glory, the young confidence In growing happiness ? Shall I throw by As self-delusion the supreme ambition, Which I encourag'd till parental fondness Bore the prophetic blessing, on whose truth ^30 30 DEMETER [II My spirit throve ? Oh never ! nay, nay, nay ! That were the one disaster, and if aid I cannot, I can mightily avenge. On irremediable wrong I shrink not To pile immortal ruin, there to lie As trophies on a carven tomb : nor less For that no memory of my deed survive, Nor any eye to see, nor tongue to tell. CH. So vast injustice, Lady, were not good. DEM. To you I seem unjust involving man. 540 CH. Why should man suffer in thy feud with Zeus ? DEM. Let Zeus relent. There is no other way. I will destroy the seeds of plant and tree : Vineyard and orchard, oliveyard and cornland Shall all withhold their fruits, and in their stead Shall flourish the gay blooms that Cora loved. There shall be dearth, and yet so gay the dearth That all the land shall look in holidav With mockery of foison ; every field 54.9 With splendour aflame. For wheat the useless poppy In sheeted scarlet ; and for barley and oats The blue and yellow weeds that mock men's toil, Centaury and marigold in chequer'd plots : Where seed is sown, or none, shall dandelions And wretched ragwort vie, orchis and iris And garish daisy, and for every flower II] DEMETER 31 That in this vale she pluckt, shall spring a thousand. Where'er she stept anemones shall crowd, And the sweet violet. These things shall ye see. — But I behold him whom I came to meet, 560 Hermes : — he, be he laden howsoe'er, Will heavier-laden to his lord return. Enter Hermes. HERMES. Mighty Demeter, Mother of the seasons, Bountiful all-sustainer, fairest daughter Of arch-ancestral Rhea, — to thee Zeus sendeth Kindly message. He grieves seeing thy godhead Offended wrongly at eternal justice, 'Gainst destiny ordain'd idly revolting. Ever will he as sister honour thee And willing aid ; but seeing now thy daughter ^70 Raised to a place on the tripartite throne, He finds thee honour'd duly and not injur'd. Wherefore he bids thee now lament no more, But with thy presence grace the courts of heav'n. DEM. Bright Hermes, Argus-slayer, born of Maia, Who bearest empty words, the mask of war, To Zeus make thine own words, that thou hast found me Offended, — that I still lament my daughter, 3* DEMETER [il Nor heed his summons to the courts of heav'n. HER. Giv'st thou me nought but these relentless words? 580 DEM. I send not words, nor dost thou carry deeds. But know, since heav'n denies my claim, I take Earth for my battle-field. Curse and defiance Shall shake his throne, and, readier then for justice, Zeus will enquire my terms : thou, on that day, Remember them ; that he shall bid thee lead Persephone from Hades by the hand, And on this spot, whence she was stoPn, restore her Into mine arms. Execute that ; and praise Shall rise from earth and peace return to heav'n. 750 HER. How dare I carry unto Zeus thy threats ? DEM. Approach him with a gift : this little wallet. [Giving a little bag of seeds. I will not see thee again until the day Thou lead my daughter hither thro' the gates of Hell. [Going. HER. Ah ! mighty Queen, the lightness of thy gift Is greater burden than thy weighty words. [Exeunt severally r. and I. II] DEMETER 33 CHORUS. (1) Sisters ! what have we heard ! Our fair Persephone, the flower of the earth, By Hades stolen away, his queen to be. (others) Alas ! — alas ! — ay me ! 600 (2) And great Demeter's bold relentless word To Hermes given, Threatening mankind with dearth. (others) Ay me ! alas ! alas ! — (3 or 1) She in her sorrow strong Fears not to impeach the King of Heaven, And combat wrong with wrong. — [others confusedly) What can we do ? — Alas ! — Back to our ocean-haunts return To weep and mourn. — 610 What use to mourn ? — Nay, nay ! — Away with sorrow : Let us forget to-day And look for joy to-morrow : — [(1) Nay, nay! harken to me!] Nay, how forget that on us too, — Yea, on us all The curse will fall. — [ (1) Harken ! I say !] What can we do ? Alas ! alas ! 610 (1) Harken ! There's nought so light, D 3+ DEMETER [II Nothing of weight so small, But that in even balance 'twill avail Wholly to turn the scale. Let us our feeble force unite, And giving voice to tears, Assail Poseidon's ears ; Rob pleasure from his days, Darken with sorrow all his ways, Until his shifty mind 630 Become to pity inclined, And 'gainst his brother turn. [others) 'Tis well, thou sayest well. (2) Yea; for if Zeus should learn That earth and sea were both combined Against his cruel intent, Sooner will he relent. {others) 'Tis well — we do it — 'tis well. — (1) Come let us vow. Vow all with one accord To harden every heart 640 Till we have won Poseidon to our part. (all) We vow — we do it — we vow. (1) Till we have conquer'd heav'n's almighty lord And seen Persephone restored. (all) We vow — we vow. (1) Come then all; and, as ye go, Begin the song of woe. U] DEMETER 35 Song. Close up, bright flowers, and hang the head, Ye beauties of the plain, The Queen of Spring is with the dead, 650 Ye deck the earth in vain. From your deserted vale we fly, And where the salt waves mourn Our song shall swell their burd'ning sigh Until sweet joy return. * D 2 (jri *cr> *Gr> •Cn i©* "0^ "O^ T&" 1 *C* "O" 1 *C* "G^ "Cr* *Cr> •<&■> *tir> -€n ACT • III CHORUS. Song. Lo where the virgin veiled in airy beams, All-holy Morn, in splendor awakening, Heav'n's gate hath unbarred, the golden Aerial lattices set open. With music endeth night's prisoning terror, 66o With flow'ry incense : Haste to salute the sun, That for the day's chase, like a huntsman, With flashing arms cometh o'er the mountain. Inter se. That were a song for Artemis — I have heard Men thus salute the rising sun in spring — — See, we have wreaths enough and garlands plenty To hide our lov'd Persephone from sight If she should come. — But think you she will come? — If one might trust the heavens, it is a morn Ill] DEMETER 37 Promising happiness — 'Tis like the day 670 That brought us all our grief a year ago. — ODE. O that the earth, or only this fair isle wer* ours Amid the ocean's blue billows, With flow'ry woodland, stately mountain and valley, Cascading and lilied river ; Nor ever a mortal envious, laborious, By anguish or dull care opprest, Should come polluting with remorseful countenance Our haunt of easy gaiety. For us the grassy slopes, the country's airiness, 680 The lofty whispering forest, Where rapturously Philomel invoketh the night And million eager throats the morn; With doves at evening softly cooing, and mellow Cadences of the dewy thrush. We love the gentle deer, the nimble antelope ; Mice love we and springing squirrels ; To watch the gaudy flies visit the blooms, to hear On ev'ry mead the grasshopper. 689 All thro' the spring-tide, thro' the indolent summer, (If only this fair isle wer' ours) Here might we dwell, forgetful of the weedy caves Beneath the ocean's blue billows. 38 DEMETER [ill Enter Demeter. CH. Hail, mighty Mother! — Welcome, great Demeter ! — (i) This day bring joy to thee, and peace to man ! DEM. I welcome you, my loving true allies, And thank you, who for me your gentle tempers Have stiffen'd in rebellion, and so long Harass'd the foe. Here on this field of flowers I have bid you share my victory or defeat. 700 For Hermes hath this day command from Zeus To lead our lost Persephone from Hell, Hither whence she was stolen. — And yet, alas ! Tho' Zeus is won, some secret power thwarts me ; All is not won : a cloud is o'er my spirit. Wherefore not yet I boast, nor will rejoice Till mine eyes see her, and my arms enfold her, And breast to breast we meet in fond embrace. CH. Well hast thou fought, great goddess, so to wrest 709 Zeus from his word. We thank thee, calTd to share Thy triumph, and rejoice. Yet O, we pray, Make thou this day a day of peace for man ! Even if Persephone be not restored, Whether Aidoneus hold her or release, Relent thou. — Stay thine anger, mighty goddess • Ill] DEMETER 39 Nor with thy hateful famine slay mankind. DEM. Say not that word £ relent ' lest Hades hear ! CH. Consider rather if mankind should hear. DEM. Do ye love man ? CH. We have seen his sorrows, Lady . . . DEM. And what can ye have seen that I know not ? — 720 His sorrow ? — Ah my sorrow ! — and ye bid Me to relent • whose deeds of fond compassion Have in this year of agony built up A story for all time that shall go wand' ring Further than I have wander'd ; — whereto all ears Shall hearken ever, as ye will hearken now. CH. Happy are we, who first shall hear the tale From thine own lips, and tell it to the sea. DEM. Attend then while I tell. — 729 — Parting from Hermes hence, anger'd at heart, Self-exiled from the heav'ns, forgone, alone, My anguish fasten'd on me, as I went Wandering an alien in the haunts of men. To screen my woe I put my godhead off, Taking the likeness of a worthy dame, A woman of the people well in years j Till going unobserv'd, it irked me soon To be unoccupy'd save by my grief, While men might find distraction for their sorrows 40 DEMETER [ill In useful toil. Then, of my pity rather 74.0 Than hope to find their simple cure my own, I took resolve to share and serve their needs, And be as one of them. CH. Ah, mighty goddess, Coudst thou so put thy dignities away, And suffer the familiar brunt of men ? DEM. In all things even as they.' — And sitting down One evening at Eleusis, by the well Under an olive-tree, likening myself Outwardly to some kindly-hearted matron, Whose wisdom and experience are of worth 750 Either where childhood clamorously speaks The engrossing charge of Aphrodite's gifts, Or merry maidens in wide-echoing halls Want sober governance ; — to me, as there I sat, the daughters of King Keleos came, Tall noble damsels, as kings' daughters are, And, marking me a stranger, they drew from me A tale told so engagingly, that they Grew fain to find employment for my skill- — As men devise in mutual recompense, 76b Hoping the main advantage for themselves ; — And so they bad me follow, and I enter'd The palace of King Keleos, and received Ill] DEMETER 41 There on my knees the youngest of the house, A babe, to nurse him as a mother would : And in that menial service I was proud To outrun duty and trust : and there I liv'd Disguised among the maidens many months. 768 CH. Often as have our guesses aim'd, dear Lady, Where thou didst hide thyself, oft as we wonder'd What chosen work was thine, none ever thought That thou didst deign to tend a mortal babe. DEM. What life 1 led shall be for men to tell. But for this babe, the nursling of my sorrow, Whose peevish cry was my consoling care, How much I came to love him ye shall hear. CH. What was he named, Lady ? DEM. Demophoon. Yea, ye shall hear how much I came to love him. For in his small epitome I read The trouble of mankind; in him I saw 780 The hero's helplessness, the countless perils In ambush of life's promise, the desire Blind and instinctive, and the will perverse. His petty needs were man's necessities; In him I nurst all mortal natur', embrac'd With whole affection to my breast, and luird Wailing humanity upon my knee. CH. We see thou wilt not now destroy mankind. 4i DEMETER [ill DEM. What I coud do to save man was my thought. And, since my love was center'd in the boy, 790 My thought was first for him, to rescue him • That, thro' my providence, he ne'er should know Suffering, nor disease, nor fear of death. Therefore I fed him on immortal food, And should have gain'd my wish, so well he throve, But by ill-chance it hapt, once, as I held him Bathed in the fire at midnight (as was my wont), — His mother stole upon us, and ascare At the strange sight, screaming in loud dismay Compel'd me to unmask, and leave for ever 800 The halls of Keleos, and my work undone. CH. 'Twas pity that she came! — Didst thou not grieve to lose The small Demophoon ?— Coudst thou not save him ? DEM. I had been blinded. Think ye for your- selves . . . What vantage were it to mankind at large That one should be immortal, — if all beside Must die and suffer misery as before ? CH. Nay, truly. And great envy borne to one So favour'd might have more embitter'd all. 809 DEM. I had been foolish. My sojourn with men Had warpt my mind with mortal tenderness. Ill] DEMETER 4.3 So, questioning myself what real gift I might bestow on man to help his state, I saw that sorrow was his life-companion, To be embrac't bravely, not weakly shun'd : That as by toil man winneth happiness, Thro' tribulation he must come to peace. How to make sorrow his friend then, — this my task. Here was a mystery . . . and how persuade This thorny truth? ... Ye do not hearken me. 820 CH. Yea, honour'd goddess, yea, we hearken still : Stint not thy tale. DEM. Ye might not understand. My tale to you must be a tale of deeds — How first I bade King Keleos build for me A temple in Eleusis, and ordain'd My worship, and the mysteries of my thought ; Where in the sorrow that I underwent Man's state is pattern'd • and in picture shewn The way of his salvation. . . . Now with me — Here is a matter grateful to your ears — 830 Your lov'd Persephone hath equal honour, And in the spring her festival of flowers : And if she should return . . . [Listening. Ah ! hark ! what hear I ? CH. We hear no sound. DEM. Hush ye ! Hermes : he comes. 44 DEMETER [ill CH. What hearest thou ? DEM. Hermes ; and not alone. She is there. 'Tis she : I have won. CH Where? where? DEM. {aside) Ah ! can it be that out of sorrow's night, From tears, from yearning pain, from long despair, Into joy's sunlight I shall come again ? — Aside! stand ye aside ! 840 Enter Hermes leading Persephone. HER. Mighty Demeter, lo ! I execute The will of Zeus and here restore thy daughter. DEM. I have won. PER. Sweet Mother, thy embrace is as the welcome Of all the earth, thy kiss the breath of life. DEM. Ah ! but to me, Cora ! Thy voice again . . . My tongue is trammel'd with excess of joy. PER. Arise, my nymphs, my Oceanides! My Nereids all, arise ! and welcome me ! Put off your strange solemnity ! arise ! 850 CH. Welcome ! all welcome, fair Persephone ! (1) We came to welcome thee, but fell abash'd Seeing thy purple robe and crystal crown. PER. Arise and serve my pleasure as of yore. DEM. And thou too doff thy strange solemnity, Ill] DEMETER 4? That all may see thee as thou art, my Cora, Restor'd and ever mine. Put off thy crown ! PER. Awhile! dear Mother — what thou sayst is true 5 I am restor'd to thee, and evermore Shall be restor'd. Yet am I none the less 860 Evermore Queen of Hades : and 'tis meet I wear the crown, the symbol of my reign. DEM. What words are these, my Cora ! Ever- more Restor'd to me thou sayst . . . 'tis well — but then Evermore Queen of Hades . . . what is this ? I had a dark foreboding till I saw thee j Alas, alas ! it lives again : destroy it ! Solve me this riddle quickly, if thou mayest. PER. Let Hermes speak, nor fear thou. All is well. S69 HER. Divine Demeter, thou hast won thy will, And the command of Zeus have I obey'd. Thy daughter is restor'd, and evermore Shall be restor'd to thee as on this day. But Hades holding to his bride, the Fates Were kind also to him, that she should be His queen in Hades as thy child on earth. Yearly, as spring-tide cometh, she is thine While flowers bloom and all the land is gay • 4<* DEMETER [ill But when thy corn is gather'd, and the fields Are bare, and earth withdraws her budding life 880 From the sharp bite of winter's angry fang, Yearly will she return and hold her throne With great Aidoneus and the living dead : And she hath eaten with him of such fruit As holds her his true bride for evermore. DEM. Alas! alas! PER. Rejoice, dear Mother. Let not vain lament Trouble our joy this day, nor idle tears. DEM. Alas! from my own deed my trouble comes : He gave thee of the fruit which I had curs' d : 890 I made the poison that enchanted thee. PER. Repent not in thy triumph, but rejoice, Who hast thy will in all, as I have mine. DEM. I have but half my will, how hast thou more? PER. It was my childish fancy (thou rememb'rest), I would be goddess of the flowers : I thought That men should innocently honour me With bloodless sacrifice and spring-tide joy. Now Fate, that looked contrary, hath fulfill'd My project with mysterious efficacy : poo And as a plant that yearly dieth down When summer is o'er, and hideth in the earth, Nor showeth promise in its wither'd leaves Ill] DEMETER 47 That it shall reawaken and put forth Its blossoms any more to deck the spring j So I, the mutual symbol of my choice, Shall die with winter, and with spring revive. How without winter coud I have my spring ? How come to resurrection without death ? Lo thus our joyful meeting of to-day, 910 Born of our separation, shall renew Its annual ecstasy, by grief refresht : And no more pall than doth the joy of spring Yearly returning to the hearts of men. See then the accomplishment of all my hope : Rejoice, and think not to put off my crown. DEM. What hast thou seen below to reconcile thee To the dark moiety of thy strange fate ? PER. Where have I been, mother ? what have I seen? The downward pathway to the gates of death : 5)20 The skeleton of earthly being, stript Of all disguise : the sudden void of night : The spectral records of unwholesome fear : — Why was it given to me to see these things ? The ruin'd godheads, disesteem'd, condemn'd To toil of deathless mockery : conquerors In the reverse of glory, doom'd to rule The multitudinous army of their crimes : 48 DEMETER [ill The naked retribution of all wrong : — Why was it given to me to see such things ? 930 DEM. Not without terror, as I think, thou speakest, Nor as one reconcil'd to brook return. PER. But since I have seen these things, with salt and fire My spirit is purged, and by this crystal crown Terror is tamed within me. If my words Seem'd to be tinged with terror, 'twas because I knew one hour of terror (on the day That took me hence) and with that memory Colour'd my speech, using the terms which paint The blindfold fears of men, who little reckon 940 How they by holy innocence and love, By reverence and gentle lives may win A title to the fair Elysian fields, Where the good spirits dwell in ease and light And entertainment of those fair desires That made earth beautiful . . . brave souls that spent Their lives for liberty and truth, grave seers Whose vision conquer'd darkness, pious poets Whose words have won Apollo's deathless praise, Who all escape Hell's mysteries, nor come nigh 95-0 The Cave of Cacophysia. DEM. Mysteries ! What mysteries are these ? and what the Cave ? Ill] DEMETER 49 PER. The mysteries of evil, and the cave Of blackness that obscures them. Even in hell The worst is hidden, and unfructuous night Stifles her essence in her truthless heart. DEM. What is the arch-falsity ? I seek to know The mystery of evil. Hast thou seen it ? PER. I have seen it. Coud I truly rule my king- dom Not having seen it ? DEM. Tell me what it is. 96b PER. 'Tis not that I forget it ; tho' the thought Is banisht from me. But 'tis like a dream Whose sense is an impression lacking words. DEM. If it would pain thee telling . . . PER. Nay, but surely The words of gods and men are names of things And thoughts accustom'd : but of things unknown And unimagin'd are no words at all. DEM. And yet will words sometimes outrun the thought. PER. What can be spoken is nothing : 'twere a path y6g That leading t'ward some prospect ne'er arrived. DEM. The more thou holdest back, the more I long. PER. The outward aspect only mocks my words. E jo DEMETER [ill DEM. Yet what is outward easy is to tell PER. Something is possible. This cavern lies In very midmost of deep-hollow'd hell. O'er its torn mouth the black Plutonic rock Is split in sharp disorder'd pinnacles And broken ledges, whereon sit, like apes Upon a wither'd tree, the hideous sins Of all the world : once having seen within 980 The magnetism is heavy on them, and they crawl Palsied with filthy thought upon the peaks ; Or, squatting thro' long ages, have become Rooted like plants into the griping clefts : And there they pullulate, and moan, and strew The rock with fragments of their mildew'd growth. DEM. Cora, my child ! and hast thou seen these things ! PER. Nay but the outward aspect, figur'd thus In mere material loathsomness, is nought Beside the mystery that is hid within. 990 DEM. Search thou for words, I pray, somewhat to tell. PER. Are there not matters past the thought of men Or gods to know ? DEM. Thou meanest wherefore taings Should be at all ? Or, if they be, why thus, Ill] DEMETER 51 As hot, cold, hard and soft : and wherefore Zeus Had but two brothers ; why the stars of heaven Are so innumerable, constellated Just as they are ; or why this Sicily Should be three-corner'd ? Yes, thou sayest well, Why things are as they are, nor gods nor men 1000 Can know. We say that Fate appointed thus, And are content. — PER. Suppose, dear Mother, there wer' a temple in heaven, Which, dedicated to the unknown Cause And worship of the unseen, had power to draw All that was worthy and good within its gate: And that the spirits who enter'd there became Not only purified and comforted, But that the mysteries of the shrine were such, That the initiated bathed in light 1010 Of infinite intelligence, and saw The meaning and the reason of all things, All at a glance distinctly, and perceived The origin of all things to be good, And the end good, and that what appears as evil Is as a film of dust, that fain thereon, May, — at one stroke of the hand, — Be brush'd away, and show the good beneath, Solid and fair and shining : If moreover E 2 fi DEMETER [ill This blessed vision were of so great power 1010 That none coud e'er forget it or relapse To doubtful ignorance : — I say, dear Mother, Suppose that there were such a temple in heaven. DEM. O child, my child ! that were a temple in- deed. 'Tis such a temple as man needs on earth ; A holy shrine that makes no pact with sin, A worthy shrine to draw the worthy and good, A shrine of wisdom trifling not with folly, A shrine of beauty, where the initiated Drank love and light. . . . Strange thou shouldst speak of it. 1030 I have inaugurated such a temple These last days in Eleusis, have ordain'd These very mysteries! — Strange thou speakest of it. But by what path return we to the Cave Of Cacophysia ? PER. By this path, dear Mother. The Cave of Cacophysia is in all things T'ward evil, as that temple were t'ward good. I enter'd in. Outside the darkness was But as accumulated sunlessness; Within 'twas positive as light itself, 104.0 A blackness that extinguish'd : Yet I knew, For Hades told me, that I was to see ; Ill] DEMETER T3 And so I waited, till a forking flash Of sudden lightning dazzlingly reveal'd All at a glance. As on a pitchy night The warder of some high acropolis Looks down into the dark, and suddenly Sees all the city with its roofs and streets, Houses and walls, clear as in summer noon, And ere he think of it, 'tis dark again, — 1050 So I saw all within the Cave, and held The vision, 'twas so burnt upon my sense. DEM. What saw'st thou, child ? what saw'st thou ? PER. Nay, the things Not to be told, because there are no words Of gods or men to paint the inscrutable And full initiation of hell. — I saw The meaning and the reason of all things, All at a glance, and in that glance perceiv'd The origin of all things to be evil, And the end evil : that what seems as good 1060 Is as a bloom of gold that spread thereo'er May, by one stroke of the hand, Be brush'd away, and leave the ill beneath Solid and foul and black. . . . DEM. Now tell me, child, If Hades love thee, that he sent thee thither. PER. He said it coud not harm me : and I think M DEMETER [ill It hath not. [Going up to Demeter, iuho kisses her. DEM. Nay it hath not, . . . and I know The power of evil is no power at all Against eternal good. 'Tis fire on water, As darkness against sunlight, like a dream 1070 To waken'd will. Foolish was I to fear That aught coud hurt thee, Cora. But to-day Speak we no more. . . . This mystery of Hell Will do me service : I'll not tell thee now : But sure it is that Fate o'erruleth all For good or ill : and we (no more than men) Have power to oppose, nor any will nor choice Beyond such wisdom as a fisher hath Who driven by sudden gale far out to sea Handles his fragile boat safe thro' the waves, 1080 Making what harbour the wild storm allows. To-day hard-featured and inscrutable Fate Stands to mine eyes reveal'd, nor frowns upon me. I thought to find thee as I knew thee, and fear'd Only to find thee sorrowful : I find thee Far other than thou wert, nor hurt by Hell. I thought I must console thee, but 'tis thou Playest the comforter : I thought to teach thee, And had prepared my lesson, word by word j But thou art still beyond me. One thing only 1090 Of all my predetermine plan endures : Ill] DEMETER yy My purpose was to bid thee to Eleusis For thy spring festival, which three days hence Inaugurates my temple. Thou wilt come ? PER. Icome. And art thou reconcil'd, dear Mother? DEM. Joy and surprise make tempest in my mind ; When their bright stir is o'er, there will be peace. But ere we leave this flowery field, the scene Of strange and beauteous memories evermore, I thank thee, Hermes, for thy willing service. I ioo PER. I thank thee, son of Maia, and bid farewell. HER. Have thy joy now, great Mother ; and have thou joy, Fairest Persephone, Queen of the Spring. CHORUS. Fair Persephone, garlands we bring thee, Flow'rs and spring-tide welcome sing thee. Hades held thee not, Darkness quell'd thee not. Gay and joyful welcome ! Welcome, Queen, evermore. Earth shall own thee, 1 1 10 Thy nymphs crown thee, Garland thee and crown thee, Crown thee Queen evermore. NOTES This mask was written in 1904 at the request of the ladies of Somerville College, Oxford, and was acted by them at the inauguration of their new build- ings in that year. The present edition is for the use of others who wish to perform it, and the following notes are intended for their assistance. p. 4. Dramatis Personse. If the actors are few, the parts of Hades and Demeter may be taken by the same actor, as may also the parts of Artemis and Hermes. There is no need for the actor who speaks the prologue to appear in the confusion at the end of the first act : a substitute will serve. The prologue is by itself a very thankless part for such an actor as it requires. The leader of the Chorus has an important role. Act I. p. 8. For the metre of the chorus see pp. 65, 66. p. 10. Athena and Artemis have their appropriate dresses. It is necessary that Artemis should be represented as the huntress, and wear the short 58 DEMETER chlamys and hunting sandals. Persephone is dressed as a Greek girl, and her part throughout the first act is girlish : her answers to Athena are playful. In the third act her dress and manner are changed. Act II. p. 20. There are two speakers or singers alter- nating in the first six lines. The dashes show the divisions of the chorus throughout : that is, the sections between the dashes may be taken by different speakers ; but it is not necessary, except in the first six lines, that they should be. p. 22. Chorus II. This metre is the invention of George Darley. p. 23. In the dialogue the Chorus is usually repre- sented by the leader speaking alone. Where dashes occur, as on p. 24, it is intended that others should join in and give the impression of their all speaking. p. 24.. Demeter's account of her wanderings, though intended for the nymphs to hear, is not a narration for their benefit, but is rather spoken away from them. Their presence determines the form in which Demeter unburdens her grief by utterance. p. 27, 1. 4.77. Demeter's good nature is touched by the simple kind feeling of the nymphs, and she NOTES 59 suddenly changes her attitude towards them to a gracious condescension. p. z8, 1. 4.84. Demeter has her hair flowing over her shoulders, so that the jewel should be on a pendent chain attached to the necklace (which she cannot remove), in order that she may be able to hold it far enough from her for the nymphs to see without their crowding too near. p. 19, 1. 518. Demeter becomes passionate again: but in her proper character unaffected by grief. p. 31, 1. 5*6"3 . Hermes' speech betrays the awkward- ness of his mission. The first line is a sapphic ; and there are some rough hexameters hidden in the blank verse to disturb it. p. 33. Chorus. This chorus must exhibit con- fusion. From the words c What can we do ? ' down to c Harken ! there 's nought so light,' the nymphs are talking in disorder among themselves, and their leader is trying to gain their attention. After her speech there is some return to confusion before the song. Act III. pp. 56, 37. For the metres see pp. 65, 66. p. 39. Demeter's relation of the Eleusinian episode of her wanderings is told directly to the 60 DEMETER nymphs, whom she allows to come about her to listen. When they interrupt her she shows no more im- patience than can be expressed by the marked resumption of the tone and cadence of her narrative, as shown in the places where she repeats herself after the interruption. p. 42. The nymphs having become interested, Demeter attempts to lead their sympathy further than they can follow. p. 43, 1. 833. There are here pauses for listening and suspense. p. 44, 1. 840. Demeter motions the nymphs to stand aside on either hand. They group and she attitudinizes. Hermes enters (right) rather in advance of Persephone, leading her with his left hand. When he begins to speak Persephone comes forward leaving hold of his hand. Demeter gazes for a moment on Persephone, and then suddenly hurries to her, saying, 6 I have won,' not waiting for the end of Hermes' speech, and leaving him unattended to. She em- braces Persephone for some time with her head on Persephone's shoulder to hide her emotion. Then Persephone slowly disengages herself from the embrace until the two stand face to face, holding each other's hands. NOTES 61 The Chorus, on seeing Persephone in character as Queen of Hades, prostrate themselves in their ranks. 1. 84.7. So much realism is here intended as this, namely that Demeter should show that she cannot trust herself to speak without undignified betrayal of her great emotion. Persephone perceiving this would give her mother a chance of recovering herself by addressing the nymphs. 1. 850. The nymphs arise. p. 45, 1. 85:7. Demeter motions to take off Perse- phone's crown : Persephone motions her back. p. 4.9, 1. 961. Persephone's hesitation is due to inability to explain, not to terror. p. 53, 1. 10^6. Persephone speaks very slowly. p. <;<;. Persephone in bidding Hermes farewell extends to him her left hand (reversing the attitude in which she had entered) which Hermes touches with his right. Demeter at the same moment offers to Persephone her left to lead her away. In this position the nymphs surround them and crown Persephone with their wreaths and garlands, almost covering her ; at the same time singing their chorus. 6% DEMETER SPELLING, ACCENTS, AND METRES A distinguished critic having unreservedly con- demned my habit of occasionally using Greek accents to determine the pronunciation of certain syllables in the verse, I subjoin some explanation in my defence. I use these accents merely as a guide to the reader to prevent his giving a wrong accent in places where there is, at least on first reading, a possible choice of pronunciation. The ambiguity is generally due to the absence of any fixed rule or practice, concerning the use of the enclitic accent in English. For instance on p. 8, 1. 64., the word 'when is accented to shew that he is enclitic or proclitic and consequently a short syllable. If this were not shewn, it would be quite as natural for some readers to stress the verse thus Poseidon's chariot, when he rebukes the waves, which would make he a long syllable, as me is in the next line, But no country to me, where the accent on me shews that it is not enclitic in that place. Milton sometimes distinguishes the accented me by a double e, printing mee for me. Again on p. 6, 1. 21, the circumflex accent on there distinguishes the word from the unaccented NOTES 63 there which often occurs before had: as in such a sentence as this, Without the accent there had been an ambiguity ,• in which sentence there is an unaccented syllable, which would be classically short with a trilled r before a weak aspirate, and might be written t her ad. I do not myself see that English accentuation differs much from the Greek. If a consistent phonetic spelling of English were to be introduced, we should find that many words would be quite unrecognizable without accents, and that the Greek accents would serve us very well to express our traditional pronunciation. I should suppose that perfume and perfume correspond in their accent almost exactly with aycav and ayvv. The difficulty that English scholars find in understanding how a Greek trisyllable can be accented on a short penultimate, like (rocf>ia and Trpayixdroiv, or on the antepenultimate if the penultima is long, like ftovXeo-Oat and ayovaav, can be due only to their confusing accent with quantity : for there are plenty of English words in the same condition. The following fifteen words are all from the first page of Gibbon that I opened on : these nine are of the a-ocpia class, inherit, possession, am- bition, successor, suspicious, forgotten, impression, acknowledge, encdurage: these other six are all of 6+ DEMETER the /3ov\€(r6at class, peaceably, character, monarchy, frequently, government, majesty; and such con- ditions seem to be common to English and Greek : one must of course not be misled by the spelling in the first class ; and in the second class the con- sonants must be pronounced distinctly. These are but chance words ; more extreme examples might be found ; for instance, languishment, magistrate. Again, our circumflex accent would not only correspond with the classical definition of the Greek circumflex, being a wavering in pitch of the voice on the syllable, but even the rule, which seemed so arbitrary at school, — that if the circumflex be on a penultima, then the last syllable must be short, while if that syllable be lengthened, the circumflex will be changed to an acute, — has a tendency to be observed in English. Certainly everybody says do The choruses on pages 8, 9, 36 and 37 are in Greek metres, and in William Stone's phonetic prosody, the rules of which have been given else- where. In line 88 violet occurs with the first syllable short : this is in opposition to his general rules, which he wished to be tested and corrected. There is no doubt that the ; is here short, though it is a diphthong and accented ; and the fact that an accented diphthong may retain its full vocal quality, and yet be short in English when it is followed by a vowel, seems to explain another of the obstacles to the understanding of Greek prosody. At least I can say for myself that 1 could never get any explanation of the principle on which such syllables became short in Greek, whether the quality of the diphthong was changed when it was shortened by position. The English word violet, — the ordinary pronunciation of which is altered and disfigured if the diphthong is at all produced beyond common shortness, — is a plain illustrative example, which makes away with all difficulty. As Stone predicted, practice soon teaches one readily to measure the length of syllables by ear : and though I was very stupid at first, I now no more question the actual length of a syllable when I listen to it, than I do the phase of the moon when I look at it. F 66 DEMETER The chorus on pp. 8, 9, is in the Choriambic metre of Maecenas atavis edite regibus — — I — ^ v./ — I — \j kj — |»^c; the last line of each section is \^