 | Faustus : The Second Part |  |
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ACT III.
Scene, before the Palace of Menelaus at Sparta.Enter Helena with a chorus of captive Trojan women. Panthalis chorus-leader.
Helena.
I, whom men looked upon with love and wonder,
And whom men so reviled—I, Helena,
Come from the shore where we but now have landed,
Still giddy with the swinging of the waves
That on their high and bristly backs have, through Poseidon's favour
And the wings of the strong East wind, home from the Phrygian plain,
To the land of our fathers borne us—to our own native bay.
And whom men so reviled—I, Helena,
Come from the shore where we but now have landed,
Still giddy with the swinging of the waves
That on their high and bristly backs have, through Poseidon's favour
And the wings of the strong East wind, home from the Phrygian plain,
To the land of our fathers borne us—to our own native bay.
Glad of his safe return, on the strand, King Menelaus
Rests yonder, with the bravest and best of his warriors rejoicing.
And hast thou not a welcome home for thy mistress,
High House, that my father Tyndarus, near the slope,
Built for himself when he from Pallas hill returned,
And, while in sister love I played with Clytemnæstra,
With Castor here, and Pollux, in the growing days of childhood,
So gloriously adorned above all homes of Sparta?
Rests yonder, with the bravest and best of his warriors rejoicing.
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High House, that my father Tyndarus, near the slope,
Built for himself when he from Pallas hill returned,
And, while in sister love I played with Clytemnæstra,
With Castor here, and Pollux, in the growing days of childhood,
So gloriously adorned above all homes of Sparta?
And hail! all hail! wings of the brazen gate:
Ye that were thrown wide open to all guests!
Never with more inviting hospitality
Than when King Menelaus came a bridegroom—
The one, the chosen one of many princes.
How he shone before my eyes in that early happy time!
Ye that were thrown wide open to all guests!
Never with more inviting hospitality
Than when King Menelaus came a bridegroom—
The one, the chosen one of many princes.
How he shone before my eyes in that early happy time!
Fly open swiftly, wings of the brazen gate!
That the king's mandate, which admits not of
Delay, I, as beseems his wife, may now fulfil.
Fly open to receive me! but shut out
The strange disastrous destiny that still
Storms round me. Since the day I left this place—
Without one grief, without one care to seek
Cythera's temple, in obedience to
High duties; but the robber there, the Phrygian
Seized me—have many things occurred that men
Love to spread far and wide; he, of whom such are told,
But little loves to hear the still-increasing rumour,
Where his own acts he finds spun to a tale of wonder.
That the king's mandate, which admits not of
Delay, I, as beseems his wife, may now fulfil.
Fly open to receive me! but shut out
The strange disastrous destiny that still
Storms round me. Since the day I left this place—
Without one grief, without one care to seek
Cythera's temple, in obedience to
High duties; but the robber there, the Phrygian
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Love to spread far and wide; he, of whom such are told,
But little loves to hear the still-increasing rumour,
Where his own acts he finds spun to a tale of wonder.
Chorus.
Disdain not, glorious lady,
The honour that accompanies 'mong men
This thy possession of the highest good.
To thee, alone, of all—to thee alone
This highest favour of the gods was given;
The fame of Beauty—fame above all others.
The honour that accompanies 'mong men
This thy possession of the highest good.
To thee, alone, of all—to thee alone
This highest favour of the gods was given;
The fame of Beauty—fame above all others.
Before the hero moves the hero's name,
And onward doth he march in pride;
Yet he, the warrior—he, who to no other
Would bend the neck, in spirit bows him down
Before the Beautiful, the all-subduing!
And onward doth he march in pride;
Yet he, the warrior—he, who to no other
Would bend the neck, in spirit bows him down
Before the Beautiful, the all-subduing!
Helena.
No more! I have sailed hither with my husband,
And now by him am to his city sent on;
But what thought he may have in heart, I guess not.
Come I a wife? Come I, indeed a queen?
Come I a victim, destined to atone
The prince's pangs, the people's sufferings,
So long endured? And am I hither brought
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Won, am I but a prisoner? I divine not.
A fame and fate ambiguous the Immortals
Have doomed for me, unenviable attendants
Of Beauty, ever with me—aye, for ever;
Even here—upon this threshold—here beside me
Gloomily stands the evil-boding presence.
Ere yet we left the hollow ship but seldom did my husband
Look on me, and he spake no cheery word.
Opposite me he sate, and seemed the while
Gloomily meditating something evil;
But scarcely had the beaks of the first ships,
Within the curving shore of the Eurotas
Steered safely, greeted land, when thus spake he—
—Seemed it that with his voice the inspiring God
Spake:—‘Here, my warriors, each in his due order
Move, disembarking: I will muster them,
Rank after rank, drawn up on the sea strand.
But go thou on! Go up along the bank
Of the holy river, where Eurotas flows
Thro' his fertile valley. Turn thy swift steeds up
Over the emerald depths of the moist meadow,
Till thou hast reached the high plain and the buildings
Of Lacedæmon, late a rich wide field
Hemmed in by solitary hills severe.
Enter the palace there high turreted;
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Together; and the sage old stewardess,
Let her show thee the rich collected treasures,
Thy father's gathering, and those, too, that I,
In peace and war ever increasing them,
Have piled together. All in order due
Wilt thou find standing—for it is the right
Undoubted of the prince, that, to his home returning,
He finds all things in their place as he hath left them:
For of himself the slave hath power to alter nothing.’
Chorus.
With the rich treasures now, that, day by day,
And year by year, have added to—oh feast
Thine eyes and breast.
The Chainlet's graceful charm,
The Diadem that the high brow adorns,
There are they resting proud—they deemed themselves
Even in themselves a something.
Step thou on
Into the treasure chamber. Challenge them!
Up start they. They in pride
Array them for the battle.
'Tis a delight to me to see the contest—
Beauty 'gainst gold and pearls and gems of price.
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So spake my lord—this farther mandate followed:
‘When thou hast seen through all things in their order,
Then take as many tripods as thou deemest
Needful—as many vessels as the priest
Requires when perfecting the holy rite—
Caldrons and bowls and flat round altar-plates—
The purest water, from the holy fount,
Be in high pitchers;—a short space apart
Have dry wood ready, quick to catch the flame;—
And let not a well-sharpened knife be wanting!
All else I leave it to thy sole concern.’
So spake he, urging me to part; but nothing
Of living breath doth the orderer of the rite
Designate to be slain in dedication
Of solemn sacrifice to the Olympians.
I know not what to think—and—think I will not—
My present duty is now my sole concern.
Let all be as the high Gods order it,
Who what they have decreed accomplish ever:
Men may esteem it good—men may esteem it
Evil—but good or evil man must bear.
Often ere now the sacrificing priest
Hath raised the heavy axe, devoting it
To thé neck of thé beast bent down to earth;
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Preventing foe, or intervening god.
Chorus.
What is to be thou never canst think out.
Oh! queen, with cheery spirit move thou on!
To mortals Good and Evil
Will unexpected come.
Even if predicted, we do not believe.
Troy was on fire already; we, already
Saw death before our eyes—a death of shame—
And yet are we not here,
Associated with thee,
Thy joyous hand-maidens?
And yet we see the dazzling sun of heaven;
We see the brightest glory of the earth,
Thee, gracious lady! Happy! happy we!
Helena.
Be what may be! Me doth it now beseem,
Whate'er may interpose of evil or of good,
To ascend at once and move into the palace—
The royal house that many a year unseen,
Longed for, deemed lost for ever, here stands out
Before my eyes, I know not how. My feet
Bear me not now with the same cheery bound
Up the high steps o'er which I sprang in childhood.
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Cast, oh, my sisters, mournful captives, cast
All mourning far away!
Rejoice we in the fortune of our mistress!
Rejoice we in the joy of Helena!
Who to the hearth of her ancestral home
Returning late, but with a foot more firm
Even for that late return,
Approaches in her joy.
All mourning far away!
Rejoice we in the fortune of our mistress!
Rejoice we in the joy of Helena!
Who to the hearth of her ancestral home
Returning late, but with a foot more firm
Even for that late return,
Approaches in her joy.
Praise ye the holy ones,
The joyous, who bring back in happiness
Exiles to their own homestead. Praise the gods,
The holy ones! the glad home-bringing gods!
The joyous, who bring back in happiness
Exiles to their own homestead. Praise the gods,
The holy ones! the glad home-bringing gods!
The freed one, he whose fetters are unbound,
Over the roughest flies as if with wings;
While the pale captive, with vain longings filled,
Stretching his arms beyond the battlement,
Within his prison pines.
Over the roughest flies as if with wings;
While the pale captive, with vain longings filled,
Stretching his arms beyond the battlement,
Within his prison pines.
But Her in a far off land a god did seize,
And, back from Ilion's ruins,
And hither to the old ancestral house,
Hath borne and brought, after long joys and sorrows,
Sorrow and joy unspeakable,
To live her youth again.
And, back from Ilion's ruins,
And hither to the old ancestral house,
Hath borne and brought, after long joys and sorrows,
Sorrow and joy unspeakable,
To live her youth again.
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(as chorus-leader).
Leave now the joy-surrounded path of song.
Look towards the portal's wings. What see I there,
Sisters? Is't not the queen returning hither,
Hurrying with eager agitated steps?
What is it, mighty queen, what can it be,
In the halls of thine own house, instead of the greeting
Of thine own, hath come to wound and shatter thee thus?
Thou dost not, canst not hide it. On thy brow
Is undisguised abhorrence—noble anger—
That with surprise is struggling unsubdued.
Helena.
Jove's daughter common fear doth not beseem,
Light terrors pass her by, and touch her not.
But a horror, from the bosom of old Night
And primal Chaos, rising many-shaped,
Like lurid clouds from the fire-caverned mountain
Up-whirling, shatters even the hero's breast.
The Stygian powers to-day so gloomily
Have marked my entrance to the palace, that
Even from the old, familiar, often-trod,
Long-wished-for threshold, I almost desire
To part for ever, as though I were but
A chance guest—as though this were not my home.
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In the light; and farther, Powers, whate'er you be,
Ye shall not drive me. I will think upon
Some ritual form, that, purified, the hearth
Glowing may greet the Lady as the Lord!
Chorus-Leader.
Oh, noble lady! make known to thy servants.
Devotedly who love thee, what hath happened.
Helena.
Whát I saw, ye with your own eyes shall see,
If ancient Night belíke have not drunk back again
Instantly the dire shape, her own foul work,
Into her bosom's monster-teeming depths.
Yet it is meet I tell it you in words.
As I paced the gloom of the inner court of the palace
With staid religious steps, in my thoughts weighing
That which concerned me first, I felt amazement
At the strange silence and the emptiness
Of the passages. No sound of rapid step
Came to my ear—no stir of busy haste
Meeting my eye—and no attendant maid
Came forward as of old—no stewardess—
Such as were wont to welcome every stranger.
But as I reached the bosom of the hearth,
There saw I cowering o'er the last faint heat
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Shape of what seemed a woman. Gaunt was she,
And huge. She was not, so it seemed, asleep;
But rather was as one lost in her own deep thoughts.
I, as her mistress, called her up to work,
Believing that she was the stewardess
My husband's foresight had, when he left home,
Placed here. Still muffled doth she sit and stirs not.
I chide her. Then, at length, uprears she her right arm,
As though from hearth and hall to motion me away.
I turn in wrath from her, and hasten on
Toward the hígh steps leading where the Thalamos
Rises adorned, and the near Treasure-room.
Swift from the ground upstarts that marvellous shape—
Strait in my way, with gesture of command,
Stands—shows itself in its full meagre vastness,
With hollow troubled eyeballs, blood-begrimed.
Dire spectre, eye and mind alike distracting!
I speak but to the winds. Words, all in vain,
Seek to build up and to embody shapes.
But see her!—and she ventures to the light!—
Here, till our lord and king returns, we rule.
Such drear abortions, Phœbus, friend of Beauty,
Drives to their night-caves down, or he subdues.
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Chorus.
Much have I lived thró', much have I suffered,
Tho' the ringlet still youthfully rolls round my temples;
Much have I seen, and have suffered of sorrow,
Affliction of war—that last sád night of Ilion,
When it fell.
Tho' the ringlet still youthfully rolls round my temples;
Much have I seen, and have suffered of sorrow,
Affliction of war—that last sád night of Ilion,
When it fell.
Thro' the cloud and the whirl, and the dust and the tumult,
And the loud din of warriors crushing down warriors,
Over all heard I the gods shouting fearfully—
Heard I the brassy-tongued accents of Eris
From the battle-field sound, as move on the Immortals,
Nearer each moment, and evermore nearer
To the walls of the city devoted to ruin.
And the loud din of warriors crushing down warriors,
Over all heard I the gods shouting fearfully—
Heard I the brassy-tongued accents of Eris
From the battle-field sound, as move on the Immortals,
Nearer each moment, and evermore nearer
To the walls of the city devoted to ruin.
Théy yet were standing, the proúd walls were standing,
Of Ilíon; but réd flames already were running
Hither and thither, from roof-tree to roof-tree,
Ever extending; and ever the sound of
The restless flames rolling seemed as of tempest,
In the gloom of black night, breaking over the city.
And as I fled, I saw through mist and fire,
And light of flames that started up in tongues,
The approach of gods. All in their wrath they moved—
Shapes wondrous—onward striding—giant forms
Seen through the deepening gloom of fire-illumined vapour.
Of Ilíon; but réd flames already were running
Hither and thither, from roof-tree to roof-tree,
Ever extending; and ever the sound of
The restless flames rolling seemed as of tempest,
In the gloom of black night, breaking over the city.
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And light of flames that started up in tongues,
The approach of gods. All in their wrath they moved—
Shapes wondrous—onward striding—giant forms
Seen through the deepening gloom of fire-illumined vapour.
Saw I them? Or did the anguish of my spirit
Shape the wild phantomry? This never can I say;
But that I now with my body's eyes behold
The frightful shape before me I know well.
With my hands I could grasp it, did not Fear,
Did not Horror hold me back.
Shape the wild phantomry? This never can I say;
But that I now with my body's eyes behold
The frightful shape before me I know well.
With my hands I could grasp it, did not Fear,
Did not Horror hold me back.
Tell me! tell me!
Which art thou of Phorcys' daughters?
For of that kin and kind no doubt thou art,
One of the dames belike born with gray hairs—
With one eye and one tooth,
Which they in turns employ:
One of the Graiæ showing thy face here.
Which art thou of Phorcys' daughters?
For of that kin and kind no doubt thou art,
One of the dames belike born with gray hairs—
With one eye and one tooth,
Which they in turns employ:
One of the Graiæ showing thy face here.
Dost venture—horror that thou art—dost venture
Into the presence of Beauty? Dost venture
To show thyself here to the piercing eye
Of Phœbus? But come on—yes! come on boldly—
For He doth never look upon the Hideous:
His holy eye hath never yet seen shadow.
Into the presence of Beauty? Dost venture
To show thyself here to the piercing eye
Of Phœbus? But come on—yes! come on boldly—
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His holy eye hath never yet seen shadow.
But we! alas!—mortals! but we must bear
—Compelled by our unhappy fate—
The anguish of such sight,
The misery unspeakable,
This loathsome offal, this unblessed thing,
Wakes up in hearts that feel the love of beauty.
—Compelled by our unhappy fate—
The anguish of such sight,
The misery unspeakable,
This loathsome offal, this unblessed thing,
Wakes up in hearts that feel the love of beauty.
But hear thou—as, in wanton insolence,
Thou wilt encounter us—hear thou our curse!
Hear imprecation! hear abuse, abhorrence,
And threats, and words of loathing from the lips
Of the beautiful—the happy—from the lips
Of us, whom gods have formed!
Thou wilt encounter us—hear thou our curse!
Hear imprecation! hear abuse, abhorrence,
And threats, and words of loathing from the lips
Of the beautiful—the happy—from the lips
Of us, whom gods have formed!
Phorcyas.
Old is the word, but high and true its import,
That Modesty and Beauty never hand in hand
Together walk over the earth's green path.
Deep in the hearts of both inveterate hate
Dwells rooted, so that whensoe'er they meet
Each turns her back upon her adversary—
Each moves on faster. Modesty with down-cast
Heart, Beauty waxing bold and insolent,
Till Orcus' hollow night at last hath caught her—
If long ere that Age hath not tamed her down.
But you, ye haughty wantons—refuse of foreign lands—
To me ye seem a cloud of clamorous cranes,
From overhead that send down their shrill croak.
The traveller, unconcerned, upon his walk
Hears and looks up; but they pursue their way—
He his—and thus it is with you and me.
That Modesty and Beauty never hand in hand
Together walk over the earth's green path.
Deep in the hearts of both inveterate hate
Dwells rooted, so that whensoe'er they meet
Each turns her back upon her adversary—
Each moves on faster. Modesty with down-cast
Heart, Beauty waxing bold and insolent,
Till Orcus' hollow night at last hath caught her—
If long ere that Age hath not tamed her down.
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To me ye seem a cloud of clamorous cranes,
From overhead that send down their shrill croak.
The traveller, unconcerned, upon his walk
Hears and looks up; but they pursue their way—
He his—and thus it is with you and me.
Who are ye, then, that thus ye dare rave round
The palace, Mænad-like, as though ye were
Drunk? Who, then, are ye, that ye howl against
The stewardess, as crowds of dogs the moon?
Think ye I know you not and of what kind
Ye are?—ye war-begotten, battle-nursed, young fry
—Lascivious brood, seducers and seduced—
Enervating alike the warrior's
And the burgher's strength. See there, the swarm of you
Seems to me like a locust-cloud's descent,
Covering the harvest-field in its green promise.
Ye wasters of the industry of others,
Whose luxury ruins the hard-earning man—
Captives of war—bought, sold, and bought again—
Ware, worse than worthless, auctioned off, flung away.
The palace, Mænad-like, as though ye were
Drunk? Who, then, are ye, that ye howl against
The stewardess, as crowds of dogs the moon?
Think ye I know you not and of what kind
Ye are?—ye war-begotten, battle-nursed, young fry
—Lascivious brood, seducers and seduced—
Enervating alike the warrior's
And the burgher's strength. See there, the swarm of you
Seems to me like a locust-cloud's descent,
Covering the harvest-field in its green promise.
Ye wasters of the industry of others,
Whose luxury ruins the hard-earning man—
Captives of war—bought, sold, and bought again—
Ware, worse than worthless, auctioned off, flung away.
Helena.
Who, in the lady's presence, chides her maidens,
O'ersteps the clear rights of domestic life.
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Reward of praise; and hers it is to punish.
I with the duteous service was pleased well
Which they to me rendered when the proud strength
Of Ilion was besieged, and fell, and sank.
Nor less when came the wretched wandering time
Of our voyaging—a time, when each on self thinks only.
A cheerful group!—here, too, will serve me cheerfully.
‘Not what the slave,’ we ask; ‘but how he serves.’
Be silent, then, nor snarl thou thus at them.
Hast hitherto kept duly the king's house,
Supplying the mistress's place? Be that thy praise!
The Mistress now is here. Step thou then back,
Lest chastisement, not praise, be thy just meed.
Phorcyas.
The inmates and dependants of a house
To menace is no unimportant right;
And the heaven-favoured ruler's noble consort
By many a year of prudent conduct earns it.
Therefore, as undisputed thou dost tread
Again our queen and mistress the old ground—
Seize on the long-abandoned reins of empire.
Possess thou the king's treasure, and us, too,
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From this young fry, that near thee, swan of beauty,
Seem coarsely-feathered, clattering cackling geese.
Chorus-Leader.
How hideous in the neighbourhood of Beauty,
More than deformed doth seem Deformity.
Phorcyas.
How more than foolish, seen near Wisdom and
Prudent Discretion, Foolishness appears.
[The Chorus reply, each member of the Chorus singly stepping forward as she speaks.
Choritid First.
Tell of thy father Erebus; tell of thy mother Night.
Phorcyas.
Tell thou of Scylla—spéak of thy sister blood-hound whelp.
Choritid Second.
From the same root with thee sprung many a monster.
Phorcyas.
Away to Orcus—there thy kinsfolk search out.
Choritid Third.
All who dwell yonder are too young for thee.
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Away with thee—go, court there old Tiresias.
Choritid Fourth.
Orion's nurse was thy great grand-daughter.
Phorcyas.
Harpies, in filth, did feed and fatten thee.
Choritid Fifth.
How wert thou fed, to have preserved such leanness?
Phorcyas.
'Twas not with Blood, for which thou dost so thirst.
Choritid Sixth.
For Corpses thou dost hunger—foul corpse thou.
Phorcyas.
A Vampire tooth glares from thy insolent jaws.
Leader of the Chorus.
Thine will I close, by telling who thou art.
Phorcyas.
Name but thyself, then were the riddle read.
Helena.
Not angry, but in grief, step I between you,
Forbidding this wild tempest of conflicting words:
For to the ruler nothing can occur
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Than hatred growing up among his faithful servants.
The echo of his mandates now no longer
Returns in harmony of instant act
Responsive; but, self-willed, reels here and there.
Perplexed, he knows not what to make of it:
Chides everyone and everything in vain.
Not this alone; but your unmannered bickering
Hath called up shapes unhallowed,—fearful imagery,—
That still are pressing round me, till I am
Myself, despite of this paternal land, torn down,
As 't were, from it to Orcus. Is it Memory,
Or Fancy is it, that thus seizes me?
Was I all that? Am I it? Am I yet
To be it? Dreadful dream! Dream is it?—dream!
Am I then—I—the fearful fatal form,
The horror, that hath desolated cities?
The maidens shudder. Thou, whose age hath calmed thee down,
Alone art self-possessed. Speak thou! say how things are.
Phorcyas.
Who thinks on years of unmixed happiness,
To him, at last, the gods' best gifts seem dreams.
Favoured beyond all bounds! above all measure!
Thou, in the flow of years, sawest none but lovers—
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There was Theseus! He was first—he lost no time—
A greedy wooer—he snapped thee up, a young thing:
He, strong as Hercules—a princely well-built man.
Helena.
He bore me off—a slénder ten-years' roe—to Attica.
There the fortress of Aphidnus safely walled me round.
Phorcyas.
Castor and Pollux freed you, and you were then wooed
By a whole army of illustrious worthies.
Helena.
Yet, will I own, of all those chiefs, Patroclus,
Pelides' image, won my silent favour.
Phorcyas.
Yet thee thy father's prudent choice gave to King Menelaus.
Both robber on the seas was he, and his own home's bold defender.
Helena.
To him he gave his daughter, and to him he gave his kingdom;
And from our union sprang Hermione.
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King Menelaus warred far óff at Crete. To thee, left lonely,
An all too lovely guest made his appearance.
Helena.
Why call back now that sad half-widowhood?
What dread misfortunes have grown out of it!
Phorcyas.
To me that voyage, too, a free-born Cretan, brought
Weary captivity—long servitude.
Helena.
He placed thee here as stewardess of the palace,
Confiding to thy care household and hard-won treasure.
Phorcyas.
All which you left for Ilion's tower-girt city,
And love's own raptures inexhaustible.
Helena.
Speak not of raptures! Woe it was unending,
Evermore showered down on my breast and head.
Phorcyas.
Yet, say they, you appeared a twofold image—
In Ilion seen, and seen, at the same time, in Egypt.
Helena.
Oh, make not wholly mad this desolate madness.
Even now what I now am I do not know.
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They say from the void realm of shades, Achilles,
Burning in deathless love, did make thee his—
He who erewhile had loved—but Fate denied.
Helena.
An eidol with an eidol I was wedded:
A shadowy phantom he, a gleamy apparition.
It was a dream—only a dream—and so the very words say.
I faint—I fall away from life—am fading into phantom.
[Sinks into the arms of the Semichorus.
Chorus.
Silence thee! Silence thee!
Evil-eyed, evil-tongued!
Oh!—the savage lips, from which their one tooth glares!
Oh! the foul breath from that abominable gulf!
Malignity, acting benevolence—
The fierce wolf under the sheep's woolly fleece—
To me is more fearful by far
Than the jaws of the three-headed hound.
We stand in dread expectancy
Of when,—how—where—the rabid fury, that lurks
In act to spring upon us, will leap forth?
Evil-eyed, evil-tongued!
Oh!—the savage lips, from which their one tooth glares!
Oh! the foul breath from that abominable gulf!
Malignity, acting benevolence—
The fierce wolf under the sheep's woolly fleece—
To me is more fearful by far
Than the jaws of the three-headed hound.
We stand in dread expectancy
Of when,—how—where—the rabid fury, that lurks
In act to spring upon us, will leap forth?
Now, instead of kindly word,
Bringing balm of consolation,
Lethe's sweet dews of oblivion,
Thou dost, from the whole hoarded records of
The times gone by, stir only evil up,
Darkening at once the brightness of the present
And the mild glimmering hope-light of the future.
Bringing balm of consolation,
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Thou dost, from the whole hoarded records of
The times gone by, stir only evil up,
Darkening at once the brightness of the present
And the mild glimmering hope-light of the future.
Be silent! Be silent!
That the soul of the queen,
Ready to fly,
May yet remain—may yet not cease to hold
That form of forms—the loveliest that the sun
Of earth hath ever seen.
That the soul of the queen,
Ready to fly,
May yet remain—may yet not cease to hold
That form of forms—the loveliest that the sun
Of earth hath ever seen.
[Helena recovers and resumes her place in the midst.
Phorcyas.
From the flying clouds, oh! step forth, lofty sun of this bright day.
Thee, even veiled, we saw with rapture. Dazzling splendour now is thine!
Joyous earth smiles out to meet thee, and thy smile is over all.
Me they rail against as hideous, yet I know the beautiful.
Helena.
Fainting, step I from the blank void,—from the whirl that round me pressed.
I am weak, and sick, and weary—would sink back into repose.
250
With calm heart to meet the future—with calm heart whate'er may be.
Phorcyas.
Now you stand in your full greatness—in your beauty you stand there.
In your glance I read a mandate. Speak the mandate, lady, speak!
Helena.
The delay, that your bold quarrel caused me, hasten to repair.
Haste the sacrifice to perfect, as the king directed me.
Phorcyas.
All's within—all's ready: dishes—tripod—keen axe, sharpened well—
Water for lustration—incense. Designate the victim thou.
Helena.
It the king hath not appointed.
Phorcyas.
Told thee not? Oh! sad, sad word!
Helena.
What's the sadness that comes o'er thee?
Phorcyas.
Queen, 'tis thou—'tis thou art meant.
251
I?—
Phorcyas.
And these—
Chorus.
Oh woe! Oh sorrow!
Phorcyas.
Thou wilt fall beneath the axe.
Helena.
Fearful, yet I felt it would be!
Phorcyas.
Unavoidable it seems.
Chorus.
Ah! and we! What is to happen?
Phorcyas.
She will die a noble death;
But within there, on the high beam that supports the gable-roof,
Like the thrushes in a bird-snare, you in a long row will flutter.
[Helena and Chorus stand astonished and terrified in expressive well-arranged groups.
252
Phantoms! forms numbed to very stone by terror,
Aghast at the thought of parting from the daylight!
Yet in the day you have no natural right.
'Tis the same case with men—they, too, are phantoms:—
Little love they to quit the holy sunlight.
Yet the end comes no force or prayer can stay:
All know it—few contemplate it with pleasure.
Enough—all's over with you.
Quick to work!
[Claps her hands, on this appear at the door masked dwarf figures, who actively perform everything as she directs.
Hither, swarth goblinry—squab, sooty scrubs—
Roll yourselves round! Here's the work that you love—
Misery and mischief to your hearts' content.
Trundle the altar out with the golden horns—
Over the silver rim let shine the hatchet.
Fill the water-crocks, to wash away the soil
Of the black polluting blood. Spread o'er the dust
The splendid carpet, that the victim may
Kneel down in royal wise: then wrapt in it—
The head, no doubt, clipped off—be, as beseems
Her rank, borne gracefully to honoured burial.
253
Apart the queen stands, thinking, as 'twould seem.
The maidens, like the mown grass of the meadow,
Droop.
[To Phorcyas.
It would seem my sacred duty, then,
As far the eldest here, to have a word with thee,
Whose birth I deem coeval with the world.
You are experienced—wise, and seem to us
Benevolently disposed, although this giddy,
Unthinking, petulant group have scoffed at you.
Tell what you know of any possible rescue.
Phorcyas.
'Tis easily told. It on the Queen alone
Depends to save herself and you, her people.
She must decide—must decide instantly.
Chorus.
Worthiest of the Parcæ sisters—of the Sibyls wisest thou—
Hold in sheath the golden scissors—tell us, tell of life and daylight;
For we feel already waving—dangling—swinging, back and forward,
Joylessly, the little limbs, that, in the dance, with cheerful movement,
Love to play, and then to rest them softly on a lover's bosom.
254
They! Let them quail and tremble! Pain I suffer, not terror:
Yet, if you know of rescue, with thanks be it received.
To the sagacious, who, far on, and wide
Around them, look, the Impossible shows itself
Possible. Speak on. Tell us what you know?
Chorus.
Speak and tell—and tell us quickly—how we may escape the savage
Odious noose, that we feel threatening, like a most unwelcome necklace,
To wind round our throats. We feel it—wretched victims—clinging, clasping,
Choking utterance, nay, life-breath,—if thou dost not, Parent Rhea—
Thou, most venerable móther of all gods, have mercy on us.
Phorcyas.
Have ye patience, then, to listen in silence to
The details of my plan? There are long stories to tell.
Chorus.
Patience enough—for while we listen we live.
255
To him who tarrying at home guards well a noble treasure,
And saves by daily care the walls of his house from decay,
Secures the roof against the pressure of rain,
To him will it go well through the long days of his life;
But who o'er-strides lightly the holy bounds
Of his threshold with a rash and hasty foot,
On his return, perhaps, finds the old place—
But everything there changed, if not destroyed.
Helena.
Wherefore these out-worn proverbs? What thou wouldest tell,
Tell on. Stir not up matter that offends.
Phorcyas.
'Tis part of my tale—true history—no offence.
His pirate bark did Menelaus steer
From bay to bay. The main shore and the islands
He ravaged, and swept off all he could plunder,
Returning with the spóils you have seen there piled within.
Ten weary years he wore out before Ilion;
In the voyage home how many more I know not.
256
Of Tyndarus? How stands it with the realm around?
Helena.
Are foul words, then, so wound into your nature
That you cannot move your lips without abuse?
Phorcyas.
For years neglected stood the valley-ridge
That north of Sparta rears its terraces,
Backed by Taygetus. There doth the Eurotas
Roll down a merry book—thence through our glen,
Flows widening among reeds, and rears your swans.
There, unobserved, in that same mountain valley
Nestled a bold race. From Cimmerian night
Forth pressing, they have built them up a fastness—
An hold impregnable—whence they descend
To harass land and people as they please.
Helena.
Could they effect this? It would seem impossible.
Phorcyas.
They had time enough—perhaps full twenty years.
Helena.
Does one bear rule? Are the robbers many?—a gang?
257
They are not robbers, and one man does rule.
I speak no foul words of him, tho' he did
Visit me here. He might have taken everything;
But he was satisfied with a few free gifts.
Such was the word—he did not call it tribute.
Helena.
What kind of looking man?
Phorcyas.
By no means ill.
He pleases me—a merry fearless man,
Well built; has few among the Greeks his equals
In understanding. We with foul tongues brand
The people as barbarians, but I fancy
Not one of them as savage as at Ilion
Was many a hero feeding on man's flesh.
His honour I can speak to confidently;
I have trusted my own person in his hands.
And his castle—that you should see with your own eyes—
'Tis quite another thing than the coarse masonry
Of the rude walls that your fathers all confusedly
Together rolled—Cyclopian—aye, like Cyclopses were they,
258
Far other the structure there, for all with them
Is fixed by rule and line and measurement.
Look at it from without—it strives to heaven—
Straight, well adjusted, smooth as a steel mirror.
—Climb up that wall? The very thought slides down.
Within, a far-extending court, and round it
Buildings of every kind, for every use.
Pillar, Pilaster, Archlet, Arch are there;
Balconies, Galleries looking out and in,
And Scutcheons.
Chorus.
What are Scutcheons?
Phorcyas.
Ajax bore in shield
A coil'd Snake—you yoúrselves remember to have seen it.
The Seven, too, before Thebes bore figured emblems
Each on his shield. On one was the Moon and the Stars
And the Field of the Heavens in the Night. And on another
Was a Goddess. One shield had a Chief with Scaling-ladder.
Some had Swords,—Torches too; and all with which the violence
Of bold Besiegers shakes down mighty cities.
A coil'd Snake—you yoúrselves remember to have seen it.
The Seven, too, before Thebes bore figured emblems
Each on his shield. On one was the Moon and the Stars
And the Field of the Heavens in the Night. And on another
Was a Goddess. One shield had a Chief with Scaling-ladder.
259
Of bold Besiegers shakes down mighty cities.
And such devices béars the hero band I speak of;
Theirs have, from their original ancestors,
Come down with all variety of colour.
Theirs have, from their original ancestors,
Come down with all variety of colour.
There you see lions—eagle's claw and beak—
Buffalo horns—a wing—roses—a peacock's tail—
And stripes,—gold, black and silver, blue and red.
Buffalo horns—a wing—roses—a peacock's tail—
And stripes,—gold, black and silver, blue and red.
These and the like hang in their halls—proud banners, row on row—
In boundless halls, that seem wide as the world,
There were a place for your Dances!
In boundless halls, that seem wide as the world,
There were a place for your Dances!
Chorus.
Are there Dancers there?
Phorcyas.
The best in the world. Crowds of boys, golden-haired
And fresh-complexioned: and they so breathe youth!
260
Came—
Helena.
You forget your character. Let us hear
What you drive at. Say the last word; end your tale at once.
Phorcyas.
You 'tis that have to say the last word here, and end it.
Say but distinctly ‘Yes,’ and I surround you
With that castle.
Chorus.
Oh! speak, speak the little word,
And rescue thus thyself and us alike.
Helena.
How? Can I fear, then, that King Menelaus
Could so change?—do such savage injury to me?
Phorcyas.
Have you forgotten your Deiphobus,
The brother of your Paris, slain in battle—
How the king maimed and mutilated him?
—You cannot, sure, forget Deiphobus,
With whom you did so struggle, an obstinate widow;
261
And for it, too, got slit up nose and ears,
And other gashes horrible to look at.
Helena.
To Him he did it—on My account he did it.
Phorcyas.
And now, on his account, to you he'll do it.
Beauty is never held in partnership:
He, who hath once enjoyed it all his own,
Sooner destroys than shares it with another.
Beauty is never held in partnership:
He, who hath once enjoyed it all his own,
Sooner destroys than shares it with another.
Hark! 'twas the trump's shrill thrill. How it tears through
Ear-drum, heart, all within us! Thus does Jealousy
Fasten her fangs into the breast of the man
Who, having once possessed, forgets not ever
What he hath had—hath lost—and now no more possesses.
Ear-drum, heart, all within us! Thus does Jealousy
Fasten her fangs into the breast of the man
Who, having once possessed, forgets not ever
What he hath had—hath lost—and now no more possesses.
Chorus.
Hear you not the horn resounding? See you not the flash of weapons?
Phorcyas.
Welcome is my king and master: my account I fain would render.
262
Bút—but we—
Phorcyas.
You know all pláinly—Her death,
here, and yours, within.
There is no help for it—no—none.
Helena.
I have thought oút what I may venture on.
Thou art a demon of cross purposes—
This I do feel. I fear that good to evil
Thou dost invert; but I will follow thee
On to the castle. This say I; but what more
May come, after this step, and in the Queen's
Deep heart dwell hidden, unrevealed must it
To all remain. On! Old One, lead the way.
Chorus.
How gladly go we hence, with hastening foot!
Behind us Death—before us once again
Unscaleable Walls of a
Towering Fortress.
Oh! that the Fortress may give shelter such
As Ilion's Tower, that yielded but at last
To despicable craft.
[Mists spread around, hide the background, and then the front scene gradually.
How? but how?
Sisters, look round!
Was it not cheerful daylight?
Shreds of vapour waver rising
Up from Eurotas, from the holy river.
Already vanished hath the lovely bank;
The fringéd bank already, with its reeds,
Hath vanished from the eye.
And the free Swans—the proud, free, graceful swans,
That, gliding soft, delightedly swim down
Together in their joy,
See I, alas! no more.
Behind us Death—before us once again
Unscaleable Walls of a
Towering Fortress.
Oh! that the Fortress may give shelter such
As Ilion's Tower, that yielded but at last
To despicable craft.
[Mists spread around, hide the background, and then the front scene gradually.
How? but how?
Sisters, look round!
263
Shreds of vapour waver rising
Up from Eurotas, from the holy river.
Already vanished hath the lovely bank;
The fringéd bank already, with its reeds,
Hath vanished from the eye.
And the free Swans—the proud, free, graceful swans,
That, gliding soft, delightedly swim down
Together in their joy,
See I, alas! no more.
But yet, but yet,
Toning hear I them
Toning far off—a hoarse tone—
Announcing death, men say.
Ah! that to us it may not also be,
Instead of promised rescue,
Augury but of Ruin,
—To us, to us, the swanlike,
With white long necks, beautiful as the swan!—
Ruin to Us, and Her, our Queen and Mistress,
The Daughter of the Swan!
Woe! Woe to Us! Woe! woe!
Toning hear I them
Toning far off—a hoarse tone—
Announcing death, men say.
Ah! that to us it may not also be,
Instead of promised rescue,
Augury but of Ruin,
—To us, to us, the swanlike,
With white long necks, beautiful as the swan!—
Ruin to Us, and Her, our Queen and Mistress,
The Daughter of the Swan!
Woe! Woe to Us! Woe! woe!
And the mist still thickens. Round us
Everything already hidden.
Now we see not one another.
What is doing?—Move we onward?
Or do we with light steps hover
O'er the ground, still unadvancing?
—Saw you nothing? Floats not Hermes
Yonder? Gleamed there not the waving
—Gleams it not? Is it illusion?—
Of his golden wand of empire,
Bidding us báck to the joyless
Gloomy land of Shapes Unbodied,
O'er-filled, ever-empty Hades.
Everything already hidden.
Now we see not one another.
What is doing?—Move we onward?
264
O'er the ground, still unadvancing?
—Saw you nothing? Floats not Hermes
Yonder? Gleamed there not the waving
—Gleams it not? Is it illusion?—
Of his golden wand of empire,
Bidding us báck to the joyless
Gloomy land of Shapes Unbodied,
O'er-filled, ever-empty Hades.
Suddenly the Darkness deepens—deepens, though the fog hath vanished.
Darkness as of brown walls round us, that admit no gleam of sunshine.
Walls, indeed, they are, that front us, freedom to the eye forbidding.
Court-yard is it? Deep trench is it? Be it this, or be it th'other,
Equally is it a horror. Sisters, we, alas! are captives;
Here as there, and now as ever,
Destined still to be but captives!
Darkness as of brown walls round us, that admit no gleam of sunshine.
Walls, indeed, they are, that front us, freedom to the eye forbidding.
Court-yard is it? Deep trench is it? Be it this, or be it th'other,
Equally is it a horror. Sisters, we, alas! are captives;
Here as there, and now as ever,
Destined still to be but captives!
265
Chorus Leader.
Impatient ever and foolish!—Type of Woman,
Dependent on the moment-play of the wild winds!
Good or ill fortune still incapable
Of meeting with serenity.
Still warring are you each with other. One
Says this, and what she says is straight gainsaid.
Laughing or Wailing, the self-same tone 'tis always,
—Sorrow or Joy. Be silent and attend ye!
Listen to what our noble Queen for herself,
And us—having weighed all in thought—determines.
Helena.
Where art thou, Pythonissa? Come, be thy name what it may,
Come thou from out the vaults of this dismal castle.
Or if, perchance, thou art góing to tell of my arrival
To this wondrous hero-lord, and secure me meet reception,
Receive my thanks and lead me at once to him.
I wish my wanderings at an end. Repose is all I long for.
266
In vain lookest thou, oh Queen! on all sides, round thee here.
Vanished is that foul shape. She hath, perhaps, remained
Behind in the fog, from the bosom of which hither
We have, I know not how, come swiftly, without step;
Or it may well be that she still is wandering,
Having lost herself in the labyrinthine windings
Of this strange castle made of many castles,
While she seeks the master to announce your coming,
And to demand for you princely reception.
Vanished is that foul shape. She hath, perhaps, remained
Behind in the fog, from the bosom of which hither
We have, I know not how, come swiftly, without step;
Or it may well be that she still is wandering,
Having lost herself in the labyrinthine windings
Of this strange castle made of many castles,
While she seeks the master to announce your coming,
And to demand for you princely reception.
But yonder see, above, bustle of preparation!
At galleries, at windows, and in portals,
Hither and thither hurrying crowds of servants.
This speaks a welcome here of gracious courtesy,
Princely reception as of honoured guest.
At galleries, at windows, and in portals,
Hither and thither hurrying crowds of servants.
This speaks a welcome here of gracious courtesy,
Princely reception as of honoured guest.
Chorus.
Hów my heart flows forth tó meet them! Look! ónly look
Át the lóng line of beautiful youths streaming hitherward,
Timing their leisurely movements to melody.
Onward, still on, flows the ordered procession.
Oh, what composure! what grace! and what dignity!
Youths, but in bloom and in beauty of Boyhood.
Bright apparition! But whó hath evoked it?
Whóse is the mandate their ranks are obeying?
Whóse is the spirit unseen that hath moulded them?
Wíth what delíght and what wónder I look on them!
Whát is it wins me to lóve them?—thus lóve them?
Is it their beauty? their courteous demeanour?
Or the ringlets that roll round the dazzling white forehead?
Or the dear little cheeks, with blush red as the peach's,
And, soft as the peach's, the tender down shading them?
Fain would I bite into fruit so delicious!
But I shudder and shrink back in fear and in horror,
Knowing well, that lips pressed to the lips of such charmer,
Have—dreadful to think of—been choked up with ashes.
Át the lóng line of beautiful youths streaming hitherward,
Timing their leisurely movements to melody.
Onward, still on, flows the ordered procession.
267
Youths, but in bloom and in beauty of Boyhood.
Bright apparition! But whó hath evoked it?
Whóse is the mandate their ranks are obeying?
Whóse is the spirit unseen that hath moulded them?
Wíth what delíght and what wónder I look on them!
Whát is it wins me to lóve them?—thus lóve them?
Is it their beauty? their courteous demeanour?
Or the ringlets that roll round the dazzling white forehead?
Or the dear little cheeks, with blush red as the peach's,
And, soft as the peach's, the tender down shading them?
Fain would I bite into fruit so delicious!
But I shudder and shrink back in fear and in horror,
Knowing well, that lips pressed to the lips of such charmer,
Have—dreadful to think of—been choked up with ashes.
But the fairest
Lo! come hither.
What are they bearing?
Steps to the throne,
Tapestry, seat,
Hangings and ornaments
For a pavilion.
Rolling above in folds,
Are formed, as 'twere, garlands of clouds,
To wave o'er the head of our queen.
And now, invited, she already hath
Ascended the high couch.
Lo! come hither.
What are they bearing?
Steps to the throne,
Tapestry, seat,
268
For a pavilion.
Rolling above in folds,
Are formed, as 'twere, garlands of clouds,
To wave o'er the head of our queen.
And now, invited, she already hath
Ascended the high couch.
Advance ye slowly, step by step.
Range yourselves gracefully.
Worthy, worthy, three times worthy,
Be such reception cordially received!
Range yourselves gracefully.
Worthy, worthy, three times worthy,
Be such reception cordially received!
[All that the Chorus has indicated is gradually done. Faustus appears, after a long train of pages and squires have descended, on the steps, in court-dress of the Middle Ages, and comes down slowly and with dignity.
Chorus Leader.
If the gods have not now, as oft they do,
To this man lent but for a little while
A form of such exceeding dignity;
And if the lofty grace, the aspect, that
Wins us to love, be not their transient boon,
All he at any time essays will be
Successful; be it in battle-strife with men
Or in the little wár of Love with lovely ladies.
He is, in truth, to be preferred to many,
Whom I have seen, the prized ones of the earth.
269
I see the prince advance. Turn thee, oh Queen!
[Faustus steps forward with a man, Lynceus, in chains.
Faustus.
Instead of solemn ceremonial greeting,
Instead of deferential welcoming,
My bounden service—I bring here to thee
In chains this faithless serf, who, failing in
His duty, caused it that I fail in mine.
[To Lynceus.
Here! Kneel down. To this noblest lady make
Confession of thy guilt. This man, high Queen,
Is he, who, gifted with rare power of vision,
Hath his appointed province to look round
From the tall tower; and with sharp eye to range
Over the heaven-space, over the broad earth;
To give report of all that here or yonder
Shows itself, stirring from the circling hills
Into the valley or towards the castle;
Be it a drove of cattle in long wave,
Or army in its march. That we secure,
And this defy. To-day—oh! what neglect!
You were approaching, and he tells it not:
270
Is all deficient in solemnity.
His is the guilt—the forfeit is his life.
Already in the blood of death deserved
He now should lie; but thine it is alone
To Punish—to show Mercy—at thy will.
Helena.
High though the dignity that you concede
Of Judge and Ruler; and though it may be
That, as I much suspect, you do but tempt me;
Yet will I the first duty of the Judge
Fulfil in hearing the Accused. Speak then.
Lynceus
(warder of the tower).
Let me kneel down! Gazing on her,
Let me perish! let me live!
—Gift of gods—Divinest Lady—
Heart, life, all to her I give.
Let me perish! let me live!
—Gift of gods—Divinest Lady—
Heart, life, all to her I give.
Eastward was my glance directed
Watching for the sun's first rays.
In the south—oh! sight of wonder—,
Rose the bright orb's sudden blaze.
Watching for the sun's first rays.
In the south—oh! sight of wonder—,
Rose the bright orb's sudden blaze.
271
Thither was my eye attracted.
Vanished bay and mountain height,
Earth and heaven unseen and all things,
All but that enchanted light.
Vanished bay and mountain height,
Earth and heaven unseen and all things,
All but that enchanted light.
Tho' mine eye is as the lynx's
From his tree-top, here its beams
Failed. I struggled with the darkness
As when one awakes from dreams.
From his tree-top, here its beams
Failed. I struggled with the darkness
As when one awakes from dreams.
Strangely, suddenly, the turrets
Towers and barred gates disappear;
Mist-wreaths heaving, waving, clearing
Pass, and leave a Goddess here.
Towers and barred gates disappear;
Mist-wreaths heaving, waving, clearing
Pass, and leave a Goddess here.
Eye and heart I turned toward her,
Feeding on that gentle light;
Beauty, Hers, all-dazzling Beauty,
Dazzled and entranced me quite.
Feeding on that gentle light;
Beauty, Hers, all-dazzling Beauty,
Dazzled and entranced me quite.
I forgot to play the Warder,
And the Trumpet-welcome give.
Threaten!—slay not wholly! Beauty
Tempers anger, bids me live!
And the Trumpet-welcome give.
Threaten!—slay not wholly! Beauty
Tempers anger, bids me live!
Helena.
The evil I bróught with me I may not punish.
Woe is mé! How strange a destiny pursues me,
Everywhere so to fool men's hearts that they
Respect not their own selves, nor what erewhile was honored.
272
Demigods, heroes, gods and demons even
Dragging me here and there about with them.
A strange wild life of hurrying to and fro.
I, when I was but one, drove the world mad;
'Twas worse, when seen a second apparition;
And now a threefold, fourfold self, I bring
Bewilderment still with me—trouble on trouble.
Discharge the good man here—let him be free;
Blame should not strike him whom a god hath fooled.
Faustus.
Entranced with wonder, Queen, I here behold
The unerring archer, here the stricken quarry;
The bow that sped the arrow and the wounded.
Arrows fly thick on arrows, piercing me;
And, glancing crosswise, everywhere, methinks,
Are whirring feathered round in court and castle.
What am I now? All in a moment you
Make rebels of my faithfullest—make my walls
Unsafe; and henceforth will my warriors serve
None but the conquering, unconquered lady.
What can I, but transfer myself and all
I fancied mine to thee? At thy feet let me
Do homage, free and true to thee, my mistress—
Thee to whom, soon as seen, in sovereign right
All became subject—wealth, possessions, throne!
273
Lynceus.
See me, Queen, returning, see!
The wealthy beg a glance from thee:
He looked on thee, and feels since then
The poorest and most rich of men.
The wealthy beg a glance from thee:
He looked on thee, and feels since then
The poorest and most rich of men.
How moved I still from triumph on
To triumph! Here, enslaved! undone!
Avails not now the sharp eye's aid:
Back from thy throne it sinks dismayed.
To triumph! Here, enslaved! undone!
Avails not now the sharp eye's aid:
Back from thy throne it sinks dismayed.
We from the far East hither prest,
Pouring our armies o'er the West:
A mass of peoples, long, broad, vast,
And the first knew not of the last.
Pouring our armies o'er the West:
A mass of peoples, long, broad, vast,
And the first knew not of the last.
The First hath fallen. The Next his stand
Made good. The Third came spear in hand.
Each man a hundred's strength supplied,
And thousands slain unnoted died.
Made good. The Third came spear in hand.
Each man a hundred's strength supplied,
And thousands slain unnoted died.
In storm we rushed along. Our hordes,
From place to place, of all were lords.
Where I to-day held lordly sway,
To-morrow others seized their prey.
From place to place, of all were lords.
Where I to-day held lordly sway,
To-morrow others seized their prey.
274
A quick glance o'er our spoils—one laid
Hard grasp upon the fairest maid,
One on the steer of firmest tread,
And all with horses onward sped.
Hard grasp upon the fairest maid,
One on the steer of firmest tread,
And all with horses onward sped.
But I, with glance of boundless range,
Sought everywhere the rare, the strange.
What others shared its charm of power
Lost straightway, like a withered flower.
Sought everywhere the rare, the strange.
What others shared its charm of power
Lost straightway, like a withered flower.
And thus for treasures hid from light,
Led only by my own keen sight,
Chest, casket, shrine, with searching look
I pierced, and every secret nook.
Led only by my own keen sight,
Chest, casket, shrine, with searching look
I pierced, and every secret nook.
Thus have I gathered heaps of gold,
And star-like gems of price untold.
Of all, the Emerald, on thy breast
Alone is pure enough to rest.
And star-like gems of price untold.
Of all, the Emerald, on thy breast
Alone is pure enough to rest.
And waving between lip and ear
Be the deep sea-bed's oval tear:
While in faint blush beside thy cheek
The Ruby fades, abashed and weak.
Be the deep sea-bed's oval tear:
While in faint blush beside thy cheek
The Ruby fades, abashed and weak.
And here I bend in homage meet,
And lay my tribute at thy feet;
To THEE, to THEE my treasures yield,
The crops of many a bloody field.
And lay my tribute at thy feet;
To THEE, to THEE my treasures yield,
The crops of many a bloody field.
275
Tho' here be treasure-chests full store,
Yet have I iron coffers more:
Let me but in thy orbit be,
And vaults of wealth I heap for thee.
Yet have I iron coffers more:
Let me but in thy orbit be,
And vaults of wealth I heap for thee.
Form of all Forms! Earth saw thee. Power,
Wealth, Reason, in that glorious hour
Bowed, and adoring bent the knee,
Type of all loveliness, to Thee!
Wealth, Reason, in that glorious hour
Bowed, and adoring bent the knee,
Type of all loveliness, to Thee!
All that with guarding grasp for mine
I held—flows fast away, is thine!
How bright it was—how pure—how high!
How dimmed, how pale—when thou art nigh!
I held—flows fast away, is thine!
How bright it was—how pure—how high!
How dimmed, how pale—when thou art nigh!
Thus all, I once possessed, decayed
Like grass mown down, is left to fade:
Oh! with approving glance, once more
The splendour it has lost restore.
Like grass mown down, is left to fade:
Oh! with approving glance, once more
The splendour it has lost restore.
Faustus
(to Lynceus).
Off with your heap of gatherings—trophies of
Deeds desperate and daring—off with them!
Hence! unreproved indeed, but unrewarded.
Hers is already all that in its heart
The castle hides. Why special gifts to her,
Then, offer? Go! range treasure upon treasure:
In imagery sublime set forth the spirit
Unseen of Grandeur. Let the arched ceilings glow
276
Of lifeless life prepare.
Hastening before her steps let flowering carpets
On carpets roll—let the soft ground swell up
To meet her foot. To woo and win her glance
Let Splendour shine from everything around:
Splendour o'erpowering all eyes but a god's.
Lynceus.
—Light order! Easy to obey!
Say, rather, pastime 'tis, and play.
It is not Wealth, it is not Lands,
But Love and Life that she commands.
Before the splendour thus revealed
Of heavenly Beauty Armies yield:
The Warrior's sword is blunt and dull,
Powerless beside the Beautiful:
And cold and dim, the Sun's own light
Is darkened in her presence bright.
How poor are all things to one glance
Of that divinest countenance!
[Exit.
Helena
(to Faustus).
I would speak to you. Come up to my side.
The vacant place demands its Master, and
Makes mine secure.
277
(kneels, as doing homage to Helena).
First suffer me to kneel;
And, noble lady, let my true allegiance
Please thee; and suffer me to kiss the hand
That lifts me to thy side. Support me as
Regent with thee of thy unmeasured kingdom,
And to thyself thus win Adorer, Servant,
Protector—all in one.
Helena.
Everywhere wonders
I see and hear, and I have much to ask:
I would particularly wish to learn
How that man's speech sounded at once so strange—
Strange, yet familiar. One tone fits another:
If a word strikes the ear, another comes
To fondle and to make love to the first.
Faustus.
If the familiar spoken language of
Our peoples, flowing in these forms, give pleasure,
Song, satisfying ear and feeling in
Their inmost depths, Song must be ecstasy.
Shall WE trý to wed the sweet sounds? Dialogue
Allures, and draws them out.
278
And could I speak
So beautifully? Can you teach the art?
Faustus.
'Tis easy. 'Tis but speaking from the heart.
The happy still looks round for sympathy.
Overflowing joy still says—
Helena.
Rejoice with me.
Faustus.
We think not now of future or of past.
The Present—
Helena.
Oh! that it could always last!
Faustus.
What can arrest the moment's falling sand,
And to delight give permanence?
Helena.
My hand.
Chorus.
Who can blame her—blame our princess—
If she look with kindly aspect
On the lord of this high castle?
Here we all to-day are captives—
She and we alike imprisoned—
Captives, as too oft we háve been,
Since in ignominious ruin
Ilion fell. The sad days followed
Of our wanderings labyrinthine.
Houseless, homeless, wandering women!
If she look with kindly aspect
On the lord of this high castle?
Here we all to-day are captives—
She and we alike imprisoned—
279
Since in ignominious ruin
Ilion fell. The sad days followed
Of our wanderings labyrinthine.
Houseless, homeless, wandering women!
Women to men's loves accustomed
Choosers are not.—They are Adepts,
Thoúgh, in all the art of Charming;
And upon Shepherds, golden-ringleted,
Or black and bristly Fauns,
Lavish the Moment's smile.
Choosers are not.—They are Adepts,
Thoúgh, in all the art of Charming;
And upon Shepherds, golden-ringleted,
Or black and bristly Fauns,
Lavish the Moment's smile.
Near, and more near, our lovers, see! are sitting:
Hand in hand they rock them
Over the sumptuous throne's high-pillowed pride.
Hand in hand they rock them
Over the sumptuous throne's high-pillowed pride.
Princely Majesty denies not
To itself the full revealing
Of the fond heart's secret raptures,
With the world around to witness.
To itself the full revealing
Of the fond heart's secret raptures,
With the world around to witness.
Helena.
I feel so far away, and yet so near:
How fondly do I say, Here! happy Here!
Faustus.
I scarce can breathe. I tremble, words are none.
It is a dream, and Time and Place are gone.
280
What dream comes o'er me of a former day?
Methinks I lived and died and past away.
And now I live anew, wound up with thee!
Him, whom I know not, love confidingly!
Faustus.
Oh! analyse not thy strange destiny:
Be—if it were but for the moment—Be!
Phorcyas
(entering hurriedly).
Pretty time to give and get
Lessons in Love's alphabet.
Lisping love-songs, analysing
Feelings, kissing, criticising.
Feel you not your spirits wither?
Hear you not the trumpets' clangour?
Waves of men are rolling hither.
Menelaus comes in anger:
'Tis the husband—the avenger.
Seize the sword, bind on the armour,
Guard you from the coming danger.
Know you not how for this charmer
Poor Deiphobus was treated?
Would you have the scene repeated?
Ears and nose sliced off repaid his
Fond attentions to the ladies.
281
Shall dangle. For the Queen a new-edged axe
Is at the altar ready.
Faustus.
Audacious interruption! In she presses
Evermore mischievous. Even were there danger,
I do detest such senseless agitation.
The comeliest messenger, brings he a tale
Of evil—it blots all his beauty out
And makes him hideous. Thou, that art the Hideous
—All-hideous—absolutely dost delight
Only in bringing messages of evil.
But now for once you are out in your reckoning.
Aye! shake the air with empty breath! Here danger
Is none; and were there danger, danger here
Itself would be but idle threatening.
[Signals, explosions from the towers, trumpets and cornets, martial music. An army marches across the stage.
Faustus.
Crowding, see the ring of heroes,
How they boune them for the field.
Would a man win lady's favour,
Be his breast her fence—her shield!
How they boune them for the field.
Would a man win lady's favour,
Be his breast her fence—her shield!
282
With pent-in, silent rage, sure pledge of
Conquest in the coming hour,
Of the North the ripening blossoms,
Of the East the full-formed flower,
Conquest in the coming hour,
Of the North the ripening blossoms,
Of the East the full-formed flower,
Steel-clad host! They shattered kingdoms,
Realm on realm with ruin spread;
Hark! their step—or is it earthquake?
And their march!—the thunder's tread.
Realm on realm with ruin spread;
Hark! their step—or is it earthquake?
And their march!—the thunder's tread.
'Twas at Pylos we first landed;
And old Nestor—where is he?
—Vainly did the puny kinglings
Face the armies of the Free.
And old Nestor—where is he?
—Vainly did the puny kinglings
Face the armies of the Free.
From these walls drive Menelaus
—Plunderer! to roam the sea,
Rove and rob—the lurking pirate's
Life his choice and destiny!—
—Plunderer! to roam the sea,
Rove and rob—the lurking pirate's
Life his choice and destiny!—
Dukes,—I greet you with the title
By command of Sparta's Queen—
Lay at Hér feet vale and mountain.
Yoúrs the empire you thus win.
By command of Sparta's Queen—
Lay at Hér feet vale and mountain.
Yoúrs the empire you thus win.
283
German! guard the bays of Corinth,
Fence and rampart round it be!
With its hundred vales Achaia
Goth! do I confide to thee!
Fence and rampart round it be!
With its hundred vales Achaia
Goth! do I confide to thee!
Hosts of France, advance to Elis!
In Messene, Saxon, reign!
Norman! sweep the seas triumphant,
Argolis bring back again!
In Messene, Saxon, reign!
Norman! sweep the seas triumphant,
Argolis bring back again!
In his happy home each dwelling
Shall his strength abroad make known.
Over all be Sparta mistress,
Our fair Queen's time-honoured throne!
Shall his strength abroad make known.
Over all be Sparta mistress,
Our fair Queen's time-honoured throne!
And she sees them, while enjoying,
Each and all, this glorious land,
At her feet seek Light and Wisdom,
Rightful title to command.
Each and all, this glorious land,
At her feet seek Light and Wisdom,
Rightful title to command.
[Faustus descends. The princes close round him in a narrow circle to hear his commands and directions.
Chorus.
Who would hold in his possession
The most beautiful of women,
Round him, let him, first of all things,
Look for the support of weapons.
Fond words may have won her to him,
Won the highest of earth's treasures.
Unassailed he cannot hold her:
Flatterers artfully wile her away from him—
Spoilers daringly tear her away from him—
Thís to guard against, he must think well on it.
The most beautiful of women,
284
Look for the support of weapons.
Fond words may have won her to him,
Won the highest of earth's treasures.
Unassailed he cannot hold her:
Flatterers artfully wile her away from him—
Spoilers daringly tear her away from him—
Thís to guard against, he must think well on it.
Our prince for thís I praise,
—Esteem him wise o'er others—
That, brave and prudent, he with him hath leagued
Fórces; that strong mén, obedient,
Watch every glance of his that speaks his will,
Loyally obey his mandates,
Find their own gain in such fealty;
Have thus from the liege lord reward and thanks,
And lord and vassal, both, win the high meed of fame.
—Esteem him wise o'er others—
That, brave and prudent, he with him hath leagued
Fórces; that strong mén, obedient,
Watch every glance of his that speaks his will,
Loyally obey his mandates,
Find their own gain in such fealty;
Have thus from the liege lord reward and thanks,
And lord and vassal, both, win the high meed of fame.
Who now can tear away the Beautiful
From the well-armed and powerful possessor?
His ís she. Who but múst rejoice,
That she is his? and most must We rejoice,
Whom he with her protects; proud walls securing
Perfect defence within,
A mighty army our sure shield without.
From the well-armed and powerful possessor?
His ís she. Who but múst rejoice,
That she is his? and most must We rejoice,
Whom he with her protects; proud walls securing
Perfect defence within,
A mighty army our sure shield without.
285
The gifts that we on these bestow,
Each man's feof an ample land,
Are great and lordly.—But enow!
Midst of all take we our stand!
Each man's feof an ample land,
Are great and lordly.—But enow!
Midst of all take we our stand!
Home, round which the waves leap joyous,
Island-home! tho' hill-chains light
The last mountain-branch of Europe
With thy placid shore unite.
Island-home! tho' hill-chains light
The last mountain-branch of Europe
With thy placid shore unite.
Rival nations all shall shield thee,
Land above all lands of earth!
For my Queen the land is conquered,
That first smiled upon her birth.
Land above all lands of earth!
For my Queen the land is conquered,
That first smiled upon her birth.
While Eurotas' reeds were rustling,
She, whom wide earth worships, first
—Dazzling sisters! mother! brothers!—
From the shell all-radiant burst.
She, whom wide earth worships, first
—Dazzling sisters! mother! brothers!—
From the shell all-radiant burst.
Lo! the land its bright flowers offers!
Thee it welcomes, THEE doth call.
Though all earth be thine, fair lady,
Love thy own land best of all!
Thee it welcomes, THEE doth call.
Though all earth be thine, fair lady,
Love thy own land best of all!
What, tho' the sunbeams bright like arrows keen
And cold pierce mountain ridge and jagged peaks,
Let 'mong the rocks glance any speck of green,
And the goat gnawing there its scant meal seeks.
And cold pierce mountain ridge and jagged peaks,
Let 'mong the rocks glance any speck of green,
And the goat gnawing there its scant meal seeks.
286
Springs leap aloft. In concert down rush rills,
And green are meadows, vales, declivities.
The glad eye, ranging o'er a hundred hills,
Sheep-flocks spread far and wide unnumbered sees.
And green are meadows, vales, declivities.
The glad eye, ranging o'er a hundred hills,
Sheep-flocks spread far and wide unnumbered sees.
Cautious, apart, measuring each footstep grave,
Kine tread the brink, yet danger none; for all
Is ample shelter: vault is here, and cave,
The ready refuge of the mountain wall.
Kine tread the brink, yet danger none; for all
Is ample shelter: vault is here, and cave,
The ready refuge of the mountain wall.
Pan shields them yonder. Nymphs of Life are dwelling
'Mong bushy clefts, where moist fresh spots you see.
With instincts, as of higher regions telling,
Strives branch-like up Tree crowded close on Tree.
'Mong bushy clefts, where moist fresh spots you see.
With instincts, as of higher regions telling,
Strives branch-like up Tree crowded close on Tree.
Old woods! The Oak majestic there plants foot:
Bough jags to bough—self-willed, athwart, awry.
Fed with sweet dews, serene the Maple-shoot
Sports with her burthen as she seeks the sky.
Bough jags to bough—self-willed, athwart, awry.
Fed with sweet dews, serene the Maple-shoot
Sports with her burthen as she seeks the sky.
In shady nooks, from founts maternal, here
Warm milk for little child and lamb flows free;
And fruit, the valley's ready food, is near,
And honey dropping from the hollow tree.
Warm milk for little child and lamb flows free;
And fruit, the valley's ready food, is near,
And honey dropping from the hollow tree.
Here ‘to be happy’ is the right of birth—
The sparkling cheek and lip man's proper wealth.
Each in his sphere is as a god on earth,
And everywhere is calm of heart and health.
The sparkling cheek and lip man's proper wealth.
Each in his sphere is as a god on earth,
And everywhere is calm of heart and health.
287
How in this pure air doth the flower unfold
Of human life! and the glad child attain
His father's strength! in wonder we behold,
And ‘are they gods?’ we ask, ‘or are they men?’
Of human life! and the glad child attain
His father's strength! in wonder we behold,
And ‘are they gods?’ we ask, ‘or are they men?’
A shepherd's form and face Apollo wore,
And human shepherds seemed of heavenly race,
Where Nature is true Nature, evermore
Such likeness is. Each world doth all embrace.
[Sits down beside Helena.
And human shepherds seemed of heavenly race,
Where Nature is true Nature, evermore
Such likeness is. Each world doth all embrace.
Such gain is mine and thine. The past be thrown
Behind us! Feel, that thou the true child art
Of the highest Jove—of that first world, alone,
'Mong all that now on earth are, rightful part.
Behind us! Feel, that thou the true child art
Of the highest Jove—of that first world, alone,
'Mong all that now on earth are, rightful part.
Thee shall no fastness chain with jealous mound.
Eternal in its youth—exulting—free—
Still close to Sparta winds the enchanted ground,
Wooing our stay, of blissful Arcady.
Eternal in its youth—exulting—free—
Still close to Sparta winds the enchanted ground,
Wooing our stay, of blissful Arcady.
Happy land! that thou hast fled to,
Won to cheeriest destiny;
Bowers for thrones, and our free spirits
Blithe as gales of Arcady!
Won to cheeriest destiny;
Bowers for thrones, and our free spirits
Blithe as gales of Arcady!
288
Phorcyas, Chorus.
Phorcyas.
How long the maidens have been asleep I know not.
If they have been seeing everything in dreams,
That I saw bright and clear before my waking eyes,
I know not; and I wish to know; and therefore will I rouse them.
That I saw bright and clear before my waking eyes,
I know not; and I wish to know; and therefore will I rouse them.
The young things will be all astonishment:
—And ye, too, Bearded Men, who tarry yonder
On the audience-seats, in the earnest hope of seeing
Something to make the marvellous credible.
—And ye, too, Bearded Men, who tarry yonder
On the audience-seats, in the earnest hope of seeing
Something to make the marvellous credible.
Up, up, girls! be awake!—be alive! Shake your bright tresses,
Shake sleep from your eyes—blink not, but listen to me.
Shake sleep from your eyes—blink not, but listen to me.
289
Do but speak, and tell us, tell us what of marvellous hath happened.
Dearly we do love to listen to the legends we believe not.
On these walls to gaze for ever is a sad thing—we are weary.
Phorcyas.
Children, are ye so soon weary—sleep scarce rubbed off from your eyes—
Listen. In these caves, these grottoes—in these bowers were shade and shelter
Given, as to Idyllic lovers, to my lord and to my lady.
Chorus.
What? within there?
Phorcyas.
All secluded lived they from the world around them.
Me, and me alone, they trusted. In their service confidential
Mine was the high place of honour; but, as is you know befitting
One so placed, I still looked round me, everywhere but towards the lovers:
Looked for herbs of sovereign virtue—sought on barks of trees rare mosses—
Showed deep skill in herbs and simples. They were all alone together.
290
You would have us think, within there that whole worlds of space were spreading—
Wood and meadows, lakes and brooklets. What a fable 'tis you weave.
Phorcyas.
Inexperienced! ye may doubt; bút here are unexplored recesses.
Halls on halls and courts unnumbered in my musings I discovered:
Suddenly a burst of laughter from the hollow cave comes echoed.
I look in. A boy is leaping, from the bosom of the Lady,
To the Husband—from the Father, to the Mother. And the kissing,
And the kissing, and the toying—foolish love's fond playfulnesses—
Shout of mirth, and shriek of pleasure, in their quick succession stun me.
Happy child he is, and fearless. See him springing naked, wingless,
—Wingless, or he were like Eros, Life's glad Genius benignant—
Playful, frolic, as the young Faun, could the Faun forget the nature
291
On the firm ground see Him springing! And the ground, with life elastic,
Heaves him like an arrow upward; and again, again rebounding,
The high-vaulted roof he touches. And the anxious Mother warns him:
‘Bound on Earth at thy free pleasure—leap again and yet again there;
But repel the thought of flying; but resist the wild rash impulse.
Wings to bear thee onward, upward, thou hast none. Resist the impulse.’
The fond earnest Father warns him: ‘In the Earth is all the virtue
That so swiftly darts thee upward: touch but with light foot the surface,
Like the son of Earth, Antæus, thou with instant strength art gifted.’
So from summit on to summit, all along these jagged ridges
Leaps he, bounding and rebounding, like the ball you strike in play.
Suddenly into a hollow of a rough glen he hath vanished,
And we deem him lost. The mother wails. The father offers comfort.
292
Are there treasure-chambers yonder?—hidden stores of rich apparel?
Robes with stripes of living brightness, splendid as the flowers of summer,
On the glorious boy are shining. Proud and princely youth looks he!
Tassels from his arms are waving. Round his breast are ribands fluttering.
In his hand the golden lute-harp. Every way a little Phœbus.
Onward, in the flush of spirit, in the dauntless joy of boyhood,
Moves he to the mountain summit, treads the high cliffs overhanging.
Wondrous Child! we gaze upon him—with delight and love and wonder;
And his parents, in wild transport, clasp them in each other's arms:
But the soft light round his temples—who can tell what there is shining?
Golden glitter? Or the bright flame of irradiating Spirit?
In his bearing, in his gestures, the proud boy even now proclaims him
Future master of all Beauty—him the Melodies Eternal
293
Hear him with delight and wonder—with delight unfelt till now.
Chorus.
And callest thou this a marvel, Cretan born?
Thou to the Poet's teaching word
Hast never lent, belike, a listening ear;
Never to Ionia's legends;
Never, mayhap, hast heard what Hellas tells
Of the fathers of the land,
Tales rich in feats of heroes and of gods.
Thou to the Poet's teaching word
Hast never lent, belike, a listening ear;
Never to Ionia's legends;
Never, mayhap, hast heard what Hellas tells
Of the fathers of the land,
Tales rich in feats of heroes and of gods.
All, done in this our day,
Is but a melancholy echo of
Glorious Ancestral times.
Thy tale is nothing comparable with
That which their lovely Fable
—Fiction, more to be believed
Than what the world calls truth,—
Sang of the son of Maia.
Is but a melancholy echo of
Glorious Ancestral times.
Thy tale is nothing comparable with
That which their lovely Fable
—Fiction, more to be believed
Than what the world calls truth,—
Sang of the son of Maia.
A shapely boy was he—a small, strong, wily rogue.
Him in his birth-hour did the fondling nursemaids—
Patting and playing with the wily rogue,
Swathing in softest, finest, purest fleece—
Leave cradled in a purple coverlet.
They fancied that he thus was fastened down:
An idle fancy! an unreasoned dream!
Behold! the shapely, strong, small, wily one
Draws gently out his light elastic limbs—
Displacing not the purple shell
That would with painful pressure hold him down—
As the freed butterfly
From the stiff chrysalis spreads out his wings,
To wander through the sunbeam-lighted air
At his own happy will—bold voyager!
Him in his birth-hour did the fondling nursemaids—
Patting and playing with the wily rogue,
294
Leave cradled in a purple coverlet.
They fancied that he thus was fastened down:
An idle fancy! an unreasoned dream!
Behold! the shapely, strong, small, wily one
Draws gently out his light elastic limbs—
Displacing not the purple shell
That would with painful pressure hold him down—
As the freed butterfly
From the stiff chrysalis spreads out his wings,
To wander through the sunbeam-lighted air
At his own happy will—bold voyager!
And Hermes, thus—that he to thieves and scoundrels,
And all who seek a scrambling livelihood,
Might be in every way their favouring demon—
Soon plays his dexterous tricks.
Swift from the ruler of the seas he steals
The Trident, and from Ares self his Sword
Slily out of the sheath;
From Phœbus, Bow and Arrows; from Hephästos
His Tongs. Even Father Jupiter's own Lightnings
He would have made his own, did not the fire
Frighten him. Eros he overthrew in wrestling:
And from the Queen of Cyprus, as she kissed him,
He filched away the girdle from her breast.
And all who seek a scrambling livelihood,
Might be in every way their favouring demon—
Soon plays his dexterous tricks.
Swift from the ruler of the seas he steals
The Trident, and from Ares self his Sword
Slily out of the sheath;
From Phœbus, Bow and Arrows; from Hephästos
His Tongs. Even Father Jupiter's own Lightnings
He would have made his own, did not the fire
Frighten him. Eros he overthrew in wrestling:
And from the Queen of Cyprus, as she kissed him,
He filched away the girdle from her breast.
295
Phorcyas.
Listen to this loveliest music:
Cast these fables far away.
The old crowds of gods fling from you—
Think not of them. Past are they.
Cast these fables far away.
The old crowds of gods fling from you—
Think not of them. Past are they.
None will understand you. Critics
Of a higher school of art
Say, that from the heart must flow forth
All that works upon the heart.
Of a higher school of art
Say, that from the heart must flow forth
All that works upon the heart.
Chorus.
If to flattery thou art softened,
—Thou whom Nature hates and fears—
Is it strange, from trance awaking,
That we find a joy in tears?
—Thou whom Nature hates and fears—
Is it strange, from trance awaking,
That we find a joy in tears?
Let the cheery sunshine vanish.
In the Heart if day arise,
We shall find in our own bosoms
What the outer world denies.
In the Heart if day arise,
We shall find in our own bosoms
What the outer world denies.
296
When I sing my childlike carols
You are happy as your child;
When I bound, as though to music,
The parental heart leaps wild.
Helena.
Love, to give man Earth's best blessing,
Heart to noble heart leads on;
But, to yield us Heaven's own rapture,
Shapes a third—our precious one.
Faustus.
All is found that love can give us:
I thine own—thou, part of me.
Oh! as we are now united,
Could it but for ever be!
Chorus.
Many years of crowded pleasure,
In the mild gleam of this boy
Bless our happy pair with promise.
Oh! the union gives me joy.
Euphorion.
Let me bound, let me spring!
To the heavens would I haste.
'Tis my longing, my passion:
It seizes me fast.
297
But gently, but gently,
Dear son, I entreat thee;
That downfall and ruin
O'ertake not or meet thee.
In thy fall
Perish all.
Euphorion.
Prisoned no longer
On earth will I be!
Let my hands go,
Let my tresses wave free.
My robes, they are mine:
All in vain ye hold me.
Helena.
Think, oh! think
Whose thou art—
How our heart
Will sink and sink:
The bliss that we have won—
Mine, thine, and his—undone:
All, all by thee, rash son.
Chorus.
The union that their bliss did make,
Fate, I fear, will shortly break.
298
Dear son, for thy parents' sake
Be this fiery frenzied mood
Over-mastered and subdued.
Rural bliss thy life employ!
Be Arcadia's pride and joy!
Euphorion.
'Tis but to please you I refrain.
[Whirls through the Chorus; draws them forth to dance.
Cheerful race, how light I hover
Here where happy maidens be.
Goes the music well?—the measure?
Helena.
Lead the fair ones out with thee
To the graceful dance, and gaily
Play the momentary lover.
Faustus.
These poor tricks give me small pleasure.
How I wish it all were over.
[Euphorion and Chorus dancing and singing move about, interweaving.
Chorus.
When thy arms in the dance thou so gracefully spreadest,
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When the foot glances light from the floor that thou treadest,
And the limbs to the magic of melody bound—
Sweet child! how thy heart must be swelling with joy:
We love thee—all love thee—oh! beautiful boy!
Euphorion
(to the Chorus).
Away and away.
Let us play a new play:
A race let us run,
And as you are many and I am but one,
Let all of you here
Be a swift herd of deer.
And away! and away!
With me for the hunter and you for the prey!
Chorus.
Why this eager mad pursuing?
Your own object thus undoing?
We, like you, can fancy blisses
In a shower of burning kisses;
And our heart we feel incline
To that fair young face of thine.
If some little time be past
With us in respectful wooing
You will find us yours at last.
300
Pursue them! Pursue them!
O'er stock and o'er stone,
Through brake and thro' forest,
The wild game has flown.
What is easily won
Hath no charms in my sight:
'Tis the pride of the conquest
That is the delight.
Helena and Faustus.
Madness his beyond all hope!
Hearken! Heard you not a horn
Threatening wood and hill-side slope?
—What a tumult? What a cry?
Chorus
(entering quickly one by one).
Oh! how swiftly he rushed by,
Looks on us with slight and scorn.
See, the wildest of our group,
He hath grasped her, he hath clasped her,
Hither in his arms hath borne.
Euphorion
(bearing in a young girl).
She is mine. I've caught the coy one,
What care I that uncomplying
She resists me? I enjoy one
That attracts me by denying.
301
Breasts in proud reluctance swelling:
Give me Passion's burning zest,
Lips rebelling, hands repelling,
Let me feel triumphant still
Over hers my ardent will.
Maiden.
Loose me! In this little frame
Spirit with as fierce a flame
Burns; and know this will of mine
Not less resolute than thine.
Think you, then, that force can chain me?
Or your violence constrain me?
Hold me still! Aye, dare the danger!
I can be my own avenger.
Ha! you're scorched! and I am free.
Fool! rash fool! remember me
Laughing, wheresoe'er I be,
Laughing, laughing still at thee.
[Flames up, and flies off in a blaze.
Follow to the fields of Air,
Hope to meet the vanished there!
Follow to the caverned hollow
Of the deep Earth. Follow! follow!
Euphorion
(shaking off the flames).
Rock and Forest! Rock and Forest,
302
What to me such chains, such fetters?
I am active, I am young.
Yonder rave the tameless Tempests,
Yonder rage the mighty Billows,
Voices of the Free!
Me they call! ME! ME!
Both from far I hear;
Oh, that I were near!
[Springs higher up the rock.
Helena, Faustus, and Chorus.
Would'st thou, like the mountain wild-goat,
Clamber? Oh, we fear! we fear!
Euphorion.
Higher must I rise, yet higher—
Wider must the prospect be.
Well I know the land where I am.
In the middle of the island,
Pelops, in the midst of thy land,
Loved alike by earth and sea.
Chorus
(with affectionate tone).
If the woodland and the wold
Have no charms thy heart to hold,
Other spells have we to gain thee,
To allure thee, to detain thee.
303
Grapes in clusters bring to thee;
Grapes and dusk figs, and the yellow
Rich gold of the orange mellow.
Happy is the land possessing
Peace, and with it every blessing!
Euphorion.
Oh, dream ye of peace, then? Dream on, whose delight
Is in dreams; but for me be the joy of the fight!
War is the word. Where the broad banners shine.
Let me rush to the battle. The conquest is mine.
Chorus.
When a land is at Peace,
Who would call back the day
Of War—all of Love
And of Hope flings away.
Euphorion.
To the children of Achaia,
Heroes in the battle-strife,
Daring danger, breathing freedom,
Ever prodigal of life—
With a holy sense that peril
Damps not, lavishing their blood;
Everything brings to such Warrior,
To such Country, gain and good.
304
Higher! higher! see Him press,
Nor in distance seems he less.
Victory before him beaming,
Light of armour round him gleaming,
Onward! onward! see him rise.
Euphorion.
Not on wall or wave relying,
On himself let each man rest;
Fortress every foe defying
Is the brave man's iron breast.
On himself let each man rest;
Fortress every foe defying
Is the brave man's iron breast.
Would ye dwell unconquered? Haste ye,
Haste ye, to the battle-plain!
Women Amazons becoming,
Every child a hero then.
Haste ye, to the battle-plain!
Women Amazons becoming,
Every child a hero then.
Chorus
(gazing on Euphorion).
Holy, holy Poesie,
Oh, ascend thy native sky!
Shine on, thou brightest star,
Farther, and yet more far!
Still the light beams down to cheer,
And the voice with joy we hear.
Euphorion.
No! I am a Child no longer.
Armed behold the Youth move on
305
Who ere now in heart was one.
Onward, to the field of glory!
On to victory! On! On!
Helena and Faustus.
Scarcely numbered with the living,
Scarcely given to cheerful day,
Would he to the fearful distance
Whirl in giddy flight away?
And, the kindly tie between us,
Was it but the gleam
Of a transient dream?
Euphorion.
Thunder on the sea!—and Thunder,
How it rolls from vale to vale!
Host 'gainst host in dust and billows,
Throng on throng, and pang and bale!
Destiny
Here bids die,
And the mandate we know well.
Helena, Faustus, and Chorus.
Oh, what horror!—oh, what terror!
Is thy destiny, then, death?
Euphorion.
Shall I look on war at distance?
—I would in the battle breathe!
306
Rashness! danger! and—to die!
Euphorion.
Yet—and, look you, wings unfolding!—
Thither, thither would I fly!
I must! I must! Grudge not the joy of flight!
[He throws himself up into the air, his clothes bear up for a moment. His head beams, a stream of light follows.
Chorus.
Icarus! Icarus!
This—this is grief to us!
[A beautiful youth falls at the feet of the parents. In the dead the audience think they recognise a well-known form; but the corporeal immediately fades away, the aureola rises like a comet to heaven. Clothes, mantle, and harp remain lying on the ground.
Helena and Faustus.
Pain and joy, each follows other,
Anguish comes, and plaintive moan.
Euphorion
(from the depth).
In the realm of shadow, mother,
Let me not abide alone!
307
(dirge).
Not alone! Where'er thy dwelling,
If, indeed, on earth we knew thee,
Tho' thy home be far from daylight,
All hearts still with love pursue thee!
Lost—yet how can we lament thee!
Gone—we weep and envy thee!
Bright thy day; but bright or clouded
Song and heart were proud and free.
If, indeed, on earth we knew thee,
Tho' thy home be far from daylight,
All hearts still with love pursue thee!
Lost—yet how can we lament thee!
Gone—we weep and envy thee!
Bright thy day; but bright or clouded
Song and heart were proud and free.
Born to all that makes earth happy!
Lofty lineage, sense of power!
Lost, alas! too soon. Youth's promise
Torn by tempest, leaf and flower!
Eye not to be baffled. Human
Indignation at all wrong.
Best of women loved thee. Magic
All its own was in thy song.
Lofty lineage, sense of power!
Lost, alas! too soon. Youth's promise
Torn by tempest, leaf and flower!
Eye not to be baffled. Human
Indignation at all wrong.
Best of women loved thee. Magic
All its own was in thy song.
How the whirl of passion bore thee
Self-devoted to the snare!
With what rage all laws and usage
Didst thou rend, proud captive there!
Yet, at last, in generous feeling,
True stay thy pure spirit gained;
All that noblest is and brightest
Sought by thee,—but unattained.
Self-devoted to the snare!
With what rage all laws and usage
Didst thou rend, proud captive there!
Yet, at last, in generous feeling,
True stay thy pure spirit gained;
All that noblest is and brightest
Sought by thee,—but unattained.
Unattained—oh! who attains it?
Ask—Will Destiny reply
This day when a bleeding people,
Dumb with sorrow, sees him die?
—Yet fresh bursts of song awaken!
Droop in helpless grief no more,
For the Earth again will blossom,
And bear fruit as heretofore!
Ask—Will Destiny reply
308
Dumb with sorrow, sees him die?
—Yet fresh bursts of song awaken!
Droop in helpless grief no more,
For the Earth again will blossom,
And bear fruit as heretofore!
[Perfect pause. The music ceases.
Helena
(to Faustus).
An old saying, alás! proves itself true in me—
Beauty and Happinéss remain not long united;
The ties of life and lóve both are asunder torn.
Sadly, for love of both, I say to each farewell,
And once again, yet once again, into thine arms I throw me!
Beauty and Happinéss remain not long united;
The ties of life and lóve both are asunder torn.
Sadly, for love of both, I say to each farewell,
And once again, yet once again, into thine arms I throw me!
Persephoneia, take, oh! take the boy and me!
[She embraces Faustus. The Corporeal vanishes. Her Dress and Veil remain in his arms.
Phorcyas
(to Faustus).
Hold tight what still survives to you of all
That was hers. Don't let the cloak go; demons are
Tugging and tearing at its skirts, and fain
Would pluck it down from you to their underworld.
Hold fast! 'Tis not the goddess you have lost,
But it is godlike; make the best use of the lady's
Invaluable favours. Up! off with you!
309
Above the vulgar, up into the air
As long as you can keep there. We two meet
Again—far off, far, very far away!
[Helena's clothes dissolve into clouds, surround Faustus, raise him into the air, and bear him away.
Phorcyas
(Takes Euphorion's dress, mantle, and lyre from the ground, steps into the proscenium, lifts up the exuviæ and speaks).
Well! Finding this is some luck. All the fire
Is gone—gone, not a doubt of it; but never fear,
The world will get on very well. We have
Enough—aye, quite enough to consecrate
A poet or two—aye, quite enough to madden
Your master-masons and apprentices
In the gay art of building rhymes, with envy.
I cannot give them talents, but no matter,
The singing-robes are no bad things in themselves,
And I'll lend them the dress.
[Sits down leaning against a pillar, in the proscenium.
Panthalis.
Swift speed we, maidens, now that we are at freedom,
Disenthralled from the dreary spell of the old Thessalian hag,
310
Confusedly on the ear and cloud the inner sense!
Descend we now to Hades! swiftly Thither
Already hath the Queen with solemn step down glided.
Where she hath trod, her faithful maids should follow.
We find her at the throne of the Inscrutable.
Chorus.
With Queens, where'er they be, it still goes right;
In Hades even will They stand up erect
In unsubmitting pride, rank as of old maintaining—
Queens still! fast friends of Queen Persephoneia.
But We—to pine away in lone recesses,
Deep meadows of Asphodel,
Our sole companions being,
For ever and for ever,
The lengthy poplars and the barren willows!—
What life were this!—Like flitter-mice to twitter,
Whining, and whispering, unenjoying, spectral!
Leader of the Chorus.
Who has not earned a name, nor wills the noble,
Belongs to the Elements. Away with you!
My one abiding passionate desire
Is to be with my Queen.
311
Too, hath its meed: it too preserves to us Person.
Chorus, All.
We to the Daylight are given back,
The cheery Day. Not Persons now, indeed,
As once we were. That feel we, that we know.
But we to Hades never more return.
Spirits are we, and everliving Nature
Makes on us, we on her,
Claims irresistible.
Part of the Chorus.
Ever in the murmured whispers of the thousand boughs here trembling,
We with gentle play lure upward from the root the living currents
To the branches; soon with leaflets, soon with buds to deck, and blossoms,
As with glimmering gems, the tresses floating lavishly in air.
Autumn comes, with ripe fruit falling;—joyous concourse! men and cattle
Crowding, crushing, grasping, cranching, rushing eagerly, down pressing,
All regardless each of other. See them bowing, bending round us,
As they, in old days undated, bent before the earliest gods!
312
Where these walls of rock far gleaming shine in pure and glassy mirror,
We in peaceful waves are winding evermore our gentle way;
Lurk for every sound, and listen song of birds or wild reed's music.
Is it Pan's own voice affrighting?—We with voice, like his, reply.
Whisper is it?—We, too, whisper. Thunder?—We reply in thunders.
Earthquake shocks of repercussion, threefold, tenfold, roll We back.
A Third Part.
Sisters, you would call Us truant. With the streams we hasten onward,
Where the richly-cultured hill-slope, smiling, far away allures us,
Ever downward, ever deeper, lead the life-diffusing waters
To the meadow-land, the trim lawn, and the garden round the house.
Cypresses with spiry summits, rising yonder into ether,
Tell where they have found a mirror, tell the banks through which we glide.
313
Wander ye at will where lists you! We will linger, we will rustle
Round the richly-planted hill-slope, where, upon its staff supported,
Leans the vine; and the green berry, day by day, is deepening, darkening.
Hour by hour, and through the whole day lóng, the vintager's emotion
Shows to us the doubtful issue of the labours he so loves.
Now with spade, and now with mattock, and now earthing, pruning, binding,
To all gods he prays, at all times; above all, prays to the Sun-god.
Little of his faithful sérvant's toil thinks Bacchus, the enervate;
Rests in bowers, reclines in grottoes, fondling there the youthful Faun.
Dissolute sits he, and dreaming, half with wine inebriated
Round him heaped in skins, jars, vases, right and left of the cool cavern,
That might serve for endless ages. But when all the gods, when Helios,
More than all, has, blowing, moistening, warming, glowing, drying, ripening,
Swelled the wine-bestowing berries, heaped the cluster-horn of Plenty,
Where the vintager in silence worked, see! sudden life and bustle.
Stir there is in every arbour; rattling round from stake to stake;
Baskets, buckets, crackle, clatter; vine-troughs groan beneath their burthen;
All to the great vat move onward, to the strong dance of the wine-press.
Now the holy, heaven-sent fulness of the pure-born dewy berries
Daringly is crushed and broken; trampled down what was their beauty
To a mass none love to look on—squeezed together, foaming, splashing.
Round the richly-planted hill-slope, where, upon its staff supported,
Leans the vine; and the green berry, day by day, is deepening, darkening.
Hour by hour, and through the whole day lóng, the vintager's emotion
Shows to us the doubtful issue of the labours he so loves.
Now with spade, and now with mattock, and now earthing, pruning, binding,
To all gods he prays, at all times; above all, prays to the Sun-god.
Little of his faithful sérvant's toil thinks Bacchus, the enervate;
Rests in bowers, reclines in grottoes, fondling there the youthful Faun.
Dissolute sits he, and dreaming, half with wine inebriated
Round him heaped in skins, jars, vases, right and left of the cool cavern,
That might serve for endless ages. But when all the gods, when Helios,
More than all, has, blowing, moistening, warming, glowing, drying, ripening,
Swelled the wine-bestowing berries, heaped the cluster-horn of Plenty,
314
Stir there is in every arbour; rattling round from stake to stake;
Baskets, buckets, crackle, clatter; vine-troughs groan beneath their burthen;
All to the great vat move onward, to the strong dance of the wine-press.
Now the holy, heaven-sent fulness of the pure-born dewy berries
Daringly is crushed and broken; trampled down what was their beauty
To a mass none love to look on—squeezed together, foaming, splashing.
Now the sharp clash of the cymbal, with the timbrel's brazen discord,
Tears the ear, and Dionysos is from Mysteries unveiled.
Here he comes with goat-foot Satyrs, goat-foot Mænads thyrsus-swinging.
Evermore, amid the discord, brays the Ass of old Silenus.
Nothing's spared; the cloven feet áre trampling down all laws and manners.
Reel the senses all; the ear ís by the din distracted, deafened.
Drunken men for cups are groping, head and belly overburthened;
Here and there a few are working. They but add to the confusion;
For they must, to hold the new wine, have the old skins emptied fast.
Tears the ear, and Dionysos is from Mysteries unveiled.
Here he comes with goat-foot Satyrs, goat-foot Mænads thyrsus-swinging.
Evermore, amid the discord, brays the Ass of old Silenus.
Nothing's spared; the cloven feet áre trampling down all laws and manners.
Reel the senses all; the ear ís by the din distracted, deafened.
Drunken men for cups are groping, head and belly overburthened;
315
For they must, to hold the new wine, have the old skins emptied fast.
[The curtain falls. Phorcyas in the proscenium extends herself to giant height, steps down from the cothurni, throws off mask and veil, and shows herself as Mephistopheles, in order, as far as is necessary, to comment on the piece in epilogue.
| Faustus : The Second Part | |