 | Silenus |  |
114
BOOK IV.
Forecasting victory lolled the vintage God,
The languid-eyed and smooth-limbed son of Zeus,
Great Dionysus on his tiger huge;
Whose silent glide of pliant-pacing feet
Seemed rather drift of undulating flame
Than crafty brute compact of bone and thews.
The languid-eyed and smooth-limbed son of Zeus,
Great Dionysus on his tiger huge;
Whose silent glide of pliant-pacing feet
Seemed rather drift of undulating flame
Than crafty brute compact of bone and thews.
By fierceness fiercer than the tiger's own,
Artaxeres, an orient Prince, had tamed
Its savage temper to obedience.
Grateful for fellowship and wisdom learned
Of Dionysus, for the priceless vine
Imparted to his people, he had given
As boon his fondled treasure, now subdued;
Soothed to such gentle gait the God could sit
The dreaded back holding his cup so brimmed
A bubble setting threatened overflow,
And bring to lip without a wasted drop!
Artaxeres, an orient Prince, had tamed
Its savage temper to obedience.
Grateful for fellowship and wisdom learned
Of Dionysus, for the priceless vine
Imparted to his people, he had given
As boon his fondled treasure, now subdued;
Soothed to such gentle gait the God could sit
115
A bubble setting threatened overflow,
And bring to lip without a wasted drop!
Now marched he in the rude Edone's land,
Ruled by Lycurgus, grim flesh-loving King,
Who, hating grain and oil and every fruit,
Loathed most the tempting clusters of the vine,
Whence oozed the red abominable juice
That fires man's brain to waste, and taints his blood
So thick with foulness, dimmed, his eyesight fails
To wing an easy arrow to its aim.
Ruled by Lycurgus, grim flesh-loving King,
Who, hating grain and oil and every fruit,
Loathed most the tempting clusters of the vine,
Whence oozed the red abominable juice
That fires man's brain to waste, and taints his blood
So thick with foulness, dimmed, his eyesight fails
To wing an easy arrow to its aim.
The King bound every man to bow and spear;
Flouting the texture of the tedious loom,
For clothing of the beasts; man's pride to seize
And privilege to wear! Girt by his throng
Of worshippers, all guardians of the grape,
Divinely tranquil Dionysus passed,
Trampling thro' open plot of dazzling flowers
His multitude left crushed; athwart broad shade
Mottled by winks of sun, and hovering glints;
Across clear streams their crowding footsteps left
Puddled to muddy swamp. On one side hung
Pale purple mountains ranged along the North,
And, sounding near, glittered the azure sea.
Flouting the texture of the tedious loom,
For clothing of the beasts; man's pride to seize
And privilege to wear! Girt by his throng
Of worshippers, all guardians of the grape,
Divinely tranquil Dionysus passed,
Trampling thro' open plot of dazzling flowers
His multitude left crushed; athwart broad shade
116
Across clear streams their crowding footsteps left
Puddled to muddy swamp. On one side hung
Pale purple mountains ranged along the North,
And, sounding near, glittered the azure sea.
The rolic followers, shouting on their march,
Roused to its secret dells the forest depth,
Where panthers slunk close listening in their lairs;
While fast the rabbit lay, and murderous stoat
About to spring, curled smit with sudden fright;
Small songsters diving sank among the leaves,
And eagles screaming winged inland afar.
The God's intent, gift of the precious vinc,
Roused to its secret dells the forest depth,
Where panthers slunk close listening in their lairs;
While fast the rabbit lay, and murderous stoat
About to spring, curled smit with sudden fright;
Small songsters diving sank among the leaves,
And eagles screaming winged inland afar.
And needful revelation with his boon,
Time, soil, and season; how to train the shoots,
Nip wasteful buds, and note the ripening prime;
How best make ready for the vintaging
The jars befitting wine; or, stored in skins
117
All wanted for its use; the God's intent
Suffered an overwhelming swift defeat
In slaughter, horror, and a field of blood!
The Gods themselves, scanning events to come,
May see with vision blurred; or make a lapse
In sequence and mistake the drift. The stars
May not in orbits self-determined roll,
But swayed by other stars perform their parts.
And Dionysus, late triumphantly
Returning victor from the teeming East,
There having cast the tendrilled witchery,
Enthralling peoples with the conquering vine,
Assured and satisfied beheld success
Upon the people of Lycurgus, King,
As he would meditate a cup inwrought
With forms by great Hephaestion, for the play
And action of their shapes divine.
May see with vision blurred; or make a lapse
In sequence and mistake the drift. The stars
May not in orbits self-determined roll,
But swayed by other stars perform their parts.
And Dionysus, late triumphantly
Returning victor from the teeming East,
There having cast the tendrilled witchery,
Enthralling peoples with the conquering vine,
Assured and satisfied beheld success
Upon the people of Lycurgus, King,
As he would meditate a cup inwrought
With forms by great Hephaestion, for the play
And action of their shapes divine.
118
As soon
Had he imagined those bright forms could turn
Storming upon him in an ash-faced rage,
Ferocious, uncontrollable, as gift
So rich in promise scornfully refused!
While meditating fondly his great boon,
A sharp and distant din he heard; and cries
From many quarters, lengthened shouts that swelled
And gathered, like the tempest from the hills
Sucked down the valley round the log-built town,
That threw blank chill and silence on his host.
Now, flashing thro' the stormy darkness, bursts
Had he imagined those bright forms could turn
Storming upon him in an ash-faced rage,
Ferocious, uncontrollable, as gift
So rich in promise scornfully refused!
While meditating fondly his great boon,
A sharp and distant din he heard; and cries
From many quarters, lengthened shouts that swelled
And gathered, like the tempest from the hills
Sucked down the valley round the log-built town,
That threw blank chill and silence on his host.
A glittering stream of spears, guided by him,
Swiftly in measured paces step for step,
The grim Edonean King, whose head unhelmed
In his wild haste discloses burning hate
At deadly heat blanching his countenance.
119
Holding his spears, that shivered in their haste
For sharp assault, made fell assail by fierce
Impoisoned words barbed with disdain, the God
Saw a great beast aroused too strong to slay,
And strove by promises of sweet account,
In brief recital of his purposes,
To win acceptance for the precious grape.
But the king's hate had rooted into life,
And grown throughout his being, as the veins
That pulsed a net of movement thro' his frame;
And wasteful as to woo a hurricane
Laden with blight to spare the buds of spring,
Is strife with enmity at highest tide.
If in fulfilment even Gods may fail,
Thwarted by force unknown or unforeseen,
Malign, and not regarded; how shall man
120
Checked before sheer unfathomable chasms
Across the followed pathway to his hope?
Quivering, teeth-set, Lycurgus, in his hate
Of Dionysus, terror-stricken lest
The God on his stern people breathe the taint
He dreaded mostly, worship of the vine,
Scarce deigned him breathing-time, ere shrieking loud
He charged with every spear the helpless host,
And baulked escape by sending nimble bows
To hold the seaward road.
Arose a scream
Of piteous, shrill, unutterable woe,
As struck their entered flesh the shock of spears!
Yells, arrows, blows, spear-thrusts, derisive taunts
Mixed to a storm of rage, beating in waves
Successive, fiercer each, urged by the King,
Whose wrath was lighted into lurid smile,
Beholding where the baffled God withdrawn
121
Of doom.
But exultation changed anon,
When ceasing Dionysus hurled his spear,
Fluttering in vine-leaves, thro' the metal shield,
Firm breast and sinewy shoulder, crushing thro'
The strong bladebone beyond, leaving the King
Becrippled in his savage power, reserved
For deadlier fate than death from wound of spear!
Then from the lofty crag the God adown
Plunged headlong in the sea.
Lycurgus now,
Maddened by anguish into fury, blared
For slaughter, while he urged them not to spare
One that might wag a future tongue and say
He saw a King in Thrace smitten by spear
Tricked in the juggling leafage of the vine!
While faster flowed the victims' blood, their shrieks
More loudly filled the vacancy of heaven
Appealing to the Gods.
Maddened by anguish into fury, blared
For slaughter, while he urged them not to spare
One that might wag a future tongue and say
He saw a King in Thrace smitten by spear
Tricked in the juggling leafage of the vine!
While faster flowed the victims' blood, their shrieks
122
Appealing to the Gods.
Silenus heard,
And, roused from heavy dreams that held him bound
And stupefied in some oblivious world
Throughout the fearful fortune of the day,
Rose like a lion with a rolling roar,
Thundering above the havoc, and appalled
The slaughterers to wondering pause, while hung
Trembling the reddened blades spell-bound in air.
And, roused from heavy dreams that held him bound
And stupefied in some oblivious world
Throughout the fearful fortune of the day,
Rose like a lion with a rolling roar,
Thundering above the havoc, and appalled
The slaughterers to wondering pause, while hung
Trembling the reddened blades spell-bound in air.
“Ye murderers,” cried he, “degraded slaves,
Doing the bidding of a brutish King
Who knows nor cares for either right or wrong;
Forbidding you the treasure we had brought
Of riches, peace, and laws to govern you!
We offer you the wisdom and the fruit
Thousands have bent their toiling lives to find
Thro' generations aided by the Gods,
Which ye refuse, and welcome us with death!
Doing the bidding of a brutish King
Who knows nor cares for either right or wrong;
Forbidding you the treasure we had brought
Of riches, peace, and laws to govern you!
We offer you the wisdom and the fruit
Thousands have bent their toiling lives to find
Thro' generations aided by the Gods,
Which ye refuse, and welcome us with death!
123
“Oh Dryantiades, what a fate is thine!
Fell, grisly son of wrath and vengeance thou!
Flesh-tearing wolf in human form! The wolves,
Thy kin, await the feast of mangled limbs
Wild horses on Pangaeum's mount shall wrench
Asunder from thy carcase shuddering,
When they, these murderers, know thy crime has lain
Stark barrenness accursed upon their land!
Fell, grisly son of wrath and vengeance thou!
Flesh-tearing wolf in human form! The wolves,
Thy kin, await the feast of mangled limbs
Wild horses on Pangaeum's mount shall wrench
Asunder from thy carcase shuddering,
When they, these murderers, know thy crime has lain
Stark barrenness accursed upon their land!
“That day thy fetters, forged of brightest gold
And silver melted from the mountain-side,
Shall mock the trailing glories of the rose
Blossoming there on thy death-spot, O King!
And silver melted from the mountain-side,
Shall mock the trailing glories of the rose
Blossoming there on thy death-spot, O King!
“Thine is a fate so horrible that death
In ghastliest imaginable shape
Shall seem a blessed boon beyond thy hope!
Mad shalt thou be! And maddened by the vine!
Thy lifelong horror shall around thee cling
So close its leaves shall taint thine every meal,
And canopy thy dreams; until the world
Shall seem to thee but one grape-bearing stem,
Which 'tis thy burdened duty evermore
To hack at and to hew. And thou shalt find
That, fast as thou mayst cut, the dream-vine grows
Yet faster. Thou unable to descry
Man's form from that of trees, shalt hack and hew
The limbs of Dryas, thine own son, and slay
Him who by thee of all was best beloved!
In ghastliest imaginable shape
Shall seem a blessed boon beyond thy hope!
Mad shalt thou be! And maddened by the vine!
Thy lifelong horror shall around thee cling
So close its leaves shall taint thine every meal,
124
Shall seem to thee but one grape-bearing stem,
Which 'tis thy burdened duty evermore
To hack at and to hew. And thou shalt find
That, fast as thou mayst cut, the dream-vine grows
Yet faster. Thou unable to descry
Man's form from that of trees, shalt hack and hew
The limbs of Dryas, thine own son, and slay
Him who by thee of all was best beloved!
“But hark; the thunder! Speaks the voice of Zeus!”
Then harshly yelled the King, “Enough! Enough!
A foolish spear driven thro' me should suffice
Without the plague of hearing evil things
Prophesied on myself! The voice of Zeus;
Ha! Ha! Among our hills the thunders dwell
Wanting no Zeus to aid in utterance.
Of these parts I am Zeus! Thou callest me wolf!
What I call thee soon shalt thou hear, ha! ha!
And mayhap feel the truth.
A foolish spear driven thro' me should suffice
Without the plague of hearing evil things
Prophesied on myself! The voice of Zeus;
Ha! Ha! Among our hills the thunders dwell
Wanting no Zeus to aid in utterance.
125
What I call thee soon shalt thou hear, ha! ha!
And mayhap feel the truth.
“Stand forth there bows!
In that huge wine-bag plant me fifty shafts
That I may fairly name him porcupine
Bristling in fear to hold us all aloof.”
The bowmen notched the arrows on the strings
In that huge wine-bag plant me fifty shafts
That I may fairly name him porcupine
Bristling in fear to hold us all aloof.”
And raised their bows to aim; but, ere they drew
Their shafts back to the head, Silenus cried,
“Stay, murderers, and blood-stained savage wolf!
It were but trifling sport to rend thine arm
From out its socket and to splash thy brains
Scattering upon the earth. Thy bows and spears
But merest straw to fence thee from my rage
Were I so willed to slay. But thou art doomed
To darker fate than any death from me!
For when thou hast thine only son destroyed
Thy reason will return. Then shalt thou know
Thy loss! The curse stern Gods have laid on thee,
Thy country's barrenness, thy people's wrath,
The fierce wild horses, and the golden chains!
It were but trifling sport to rend thine arm
From out its socket and to splash thy brains
Scattering upon the earth. Thy bows and spears
But merest straw to fence thee from my rage
126
To darker fate than any death from me!
For when thou hast thine only son destroyed
Thy reason will return. Then shalt thou know
Thy loss! The curse stern Gods have laid on thee,
Thy country's barrenness, thy people's wrath,
The fierce wild horses, and the golden chains!
“Thy Father's voice, O great Athena! Hear
Thy worshipper. This is his hour of need!”
While spoke the Demigod crashed thunder burst,
Thy worshipper. This is his hour of need!”
Blazing one instant in stupendous glare,
With sound, as water singing in descent;
With smell of burning hides; and all was dark.
| Silenus | |