University of Virginia Library

Orestes—The Envoy—The Soldier
ORESTES
I will put by my patience with this hound:
He is ripe enough for death, and he goes straight
Dumb to the halter since this pleases him:
O envoy, summon one to bear him hence.
Yet thee, my would-be Charon to the shades,
I owe so little grudge, I'd be content
To spurn thee hence with a slave's lashes only,
If he who hired thy wretched hand to strike
Lay under my full vengeance. Is his name
Royal of those who at my board are fed?
Speak now, or never till death dumbs thy teeth:
I swear I will not ask thee any more.

THE SOLDIER
Thou wilt, I think, lose sweetness of thy life
Learning how near are those who wish thee death.

ORESTES
Thou wilt not make one hour of mine more sad
By telling me the hatred of my kin.
Love has been nothing in my way of youth,
We have not seen his face for many a day
In these accursed halls. O, I can augur,
The name you dare not speak. A certain true
And tender Simus, fearing this rough world
For one so unused to ruling as I am,
Would give me blessing of great quiet sleep
And sweet eternal foldings of the hands—
O he is good and great and very gracious
Yet I must baulk him for a little while,
And send him down to try, may be, before me,
How the dust tastes between the black dried lips.
Ah, you need not betray him, only move
Your head that I am right and question ends.

THE SOLDIER
You are right and wrong in one breath. It is Simus
And yet not Simus: a more royal hand
Would push thee hence. You'd better leave me silent.

ORESTES
Nay, by the gods, you shall speak now, altho'
I kept you on the edge of death a month
To twist and wrench your pale and foaming lips
Into the sound of it, the hated name,
That I must hear: lo, I, the mild weak boy,
Toss by the pale-hued mercy that I wore
As my life's very garment: I have wept
To hear the sobbing of a hunted beast;
And I went sadly all one morning, when
I found a field-lark dead upon her nest
While all the heaven broke o'er her into song
From many a poising wing. I shall not weep
Much from this day: I am grown cruel now:
Tho' I well know you are going to tell me much
Worthy the weeping. But not any tear
Shall be for me hereafter; I have braced
My soul to hear the worst thing you can say.

THE SOLDIER
Know, then, that I was sitting with my comrade
Over our mid-day meal: comes Simus in:
O, we had helped him once or twice before
In this same way; but when we heard he aimed
So high we faltered; tho' we feared the man,
And knew the peril of refusing him
Nearly as great as doing this: and he
Seeing we knew not where to turn, brake out
In laughter at our fear, and drew a ring
Out from his breast—a red-gold signet ring—
And said, “You fools, this warrant guards you sure:
This is no paltry business of my own.
The people king this boy but he is none.
Ye are not blind to see on whose fair brow
The real crown is seated, and she sends
This token to you faithful, being a queen,
And says, ‘Go rid me of this peevish thorn.’
And know, ye fools, to disobey is death:
Queens are not wont to ask at all in vain.”
Behold, my lord, your—that is, the queen's ring.

ORESTES
O kind old envoy, lead this soldier out.
Let him go free: for me I cannot speak
Just at this instant. He has done no wrong—
That is as some wrongs are. Leave me, old man;
I have had this black cloud over me all life:
It has burst now and stunned me: that is all:
Forbear me for a little, kind old man.