University of Virginia Library

Dyseris—Orestes—The Envoys—A Bound Soldier
DYSERIS
Hail, O my son, I greet thee with full heart;
From what a danger thou returning bearest
Beautiful victory on thy helm, and sweet
Garland of praise in thy strong hand. O boy,
Kingly and born of kings, thy mother I
Greet thee with golden joy; O land, break out
Into all singing: let thick incense hide
In clouds the altar, and one throb of mirth
Call Pæan over Ossa to the sea.

ORESTES
Mother, this thing is said, and well no doubt:
The words are warm, I thank you as I ought
To thank you: weigh my thanks against your love,
You will not totter with the burden much.
And now, O queen, retire to the inner hall,
For I must question with these envoys much
Of this maimed thief: this is no woman's show;
We cannot choose our words to suit your presence,
And this same question is about my life,
A matter in which I cannot, with your leave,
Admit your regency to judge about,
Being the only poor thing wholly mine:
The rest judge you in purple: now begone.

THE ENVOY
Thou hast well said, Orestes, and I swear
That Crannon aids thee to the end in this
To sift this web of treason utterly out.
We have seen the drift of this conspiracy:
The ill-done business of this robber's knife
Was to have laid its blood at our clean doors.
Some would have said, “This traitor Crannon tears
A hostage life in the mountains.” And all Greece
Crying full shame, we had in vain denied,
With whom you went alone your enemies.
It was a nice contrivance, and we owe
The authors ample amends: let these rest sure
Of payment when our messenger shall come
To Crannon with these tidings. More than this,
Thou hast, Orestes, our full heart and aid
To take thy power upon thyself: we have seen
Thee true and brave among this town of curs.
Speak as thou wilt and trust us on thy side.

DYSERIS
I will not tarry long: ye are my foes
And may say all against me; and my son,
Banded with you, shames not to glance in words
Against me; which, if Simus, whom I marvel
Tarries so long, had heard, you should go hence
Howling, high envoys as you are. But since
I am a woman you are brave against me:
Prosper, my son, in thy unnatural league,
The gods have saved thee once, do thou beware
Their future thunder.

THE ENVOY
With a threat she is gone;
Methinks, Orestes, you play hide and seek
With death all day in this same palace of yours.
The place looks quiet surely: there's no blood
About the columns: but it seems to me
You have but one safe subject and he's here
With his arms bound, and his allegiance lasts
No longer than his cordage.

ORESTES
Kind old man,
Thou friendly foeman, loving hater, rock
To an abandoned man, thou seest my life;
Its very fear has grown an old stale thing
With me: I used to shudder once and tremble
If the ground cracked beneath me: in old days
I used to wake and fear some gliding hand
With a cold edge thrust thro' the tapestry—
All this is over, use is a strange thing:
And yet my very fear had more life in it
Than this inactive settled apathy.
I swear to you I have not had two moments
Real living like the instant when I felt
This man's gripe close about my throat, and I
Reeled with him: it was over but too soon.
Action is everything: then was I man,
And these boy humours fell like flakes away.
We breathe by action: O for a life of deed,
Continual deed, with this pale hair-splitter
Called thought thrust by forever.

THE ENVOY
Prince, proceed
To question out this man of sullen brows:
So shall we know whose hand has launched this bolt
So shall we find what column of thy throne
Is fretted into touchwood, and so cut out
The length so honey-comb'd with rottenness,
And undergird with adamant instead
Thy seat of glory, that all men shall say
Orestes sits as firm as any king
In these Thessalian plains between Olympus
And the rough Malian bending of the sea.

ORESTES
Speak, thou lean wolf, if thou canst find some voice
Between those tufts of tawny beard; declare
Whose gold has made thy hand itch for my blood?
What is it to thee who fills Larissa's throne?
Would it put one more crust between thy teeth
This change of kings? shall such a mud-fish feel
The ripple of storm upon the upper sea
When the high cedar falters? Hate is none
Between us; thee I never can have injured,
Or that dead other dog in the ravine
With the flood churning round his sallow face
And strained persistent eyes—I never stole
Thy loaf, thy child, thy flesh-pot on feast days,
I never beat the thatch of thy hut in,
Or haled thee from thy sleep into the rain—
It cannot be my fate should have crossed thine,
With thy blind animal yearnings, with no light
Born in thine eyes at nature's holy ways,
Waking to feed and sleep and hate and fear;
I can have no community with thee,
That walk in all soft places, and live sweet,
That pasture delicate thoughts, and airy dreams
Of weeding out the man into the god—
While the gods laugh at all my posturing,
And hold me much as thee for all my pride,
Who cannot call my life an hour my own,
And feel fierce joy, as brutish as thy joys,
In grappling with a dog like thee for life.

THE ENVOY
Thou hast heard the prince; know, there are bitter ways
To make dumb dogs find voices: spare thyself
The worst of these and speak, who set thee on?

THE SOLDIER
I will speak nothing: if I told his name
He would destroy me in some subtle way:
Tell or tell nothing, plainly I must die,
Therefore I'll keep my bargain and die dumb.

THE ENVOY
This knave is very resolute, my lord,
So are they all at first: I know their ways:
After a little will those stubborn lips
Unseal their secrets easily enough.
Lead him with us, keep up a stout heart, knave,
You'll need Ixion's fibres presently.

ORESTES
Nay, he will speak without it, I see well;
He has not done me enough wrong for that:
I am most milky-minded in this thing,
Why should I crack this poor dog's joints because
He has done some master's bidding, and brought steel
Against a throat so useless as my own?

THE ENVOY
Come now, my lord, we'll reason more on this;
The fear perchance without the thing will work,
So he believe this torture shall be done.