 | The Suppliants |  |
entering the stage in procession. March time.
Jove, the suppliant's high protector,
Look from Heaven, benignly favouring
Us the suppliant band, swift-oared
Hither sailing, from the seven mouths
Of the fat fine-sanded Nile!
From the land that fringes Syria,
Land divine, in flight we came,
Not by public vote forth-driven,
Not by taint of blood divorced
From our native state, but chastely
Our abhorrent foot withdrawing
From impure ungodly wedlock
With Ægyptus' sons, too nearly
Cousined with ourselves. For wisely,
This our threatened harm well-weighing,
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And leader of our sistered band,
Timely chose this least of sorrows
O'er the salt-sea wave to flee;
And here on Argive soil to plant us,
Whence our race its vaunted spring
Drew divinely, when great Jove
Gently thrilled the brize-stung heifer
With his procreant touch, and breathed
Godlike virtue on her womb.
Where on Earth should we hope refuge
On more friendly ground than this,
In our hands these green boughs bearing
Wreathed with precatory wool?
Ye blissful gods supremely swaying
Land and city, and lucid streams;
And ye in sepulchres dark, severely
Worshipped 'neath the sunless ground;
And thou, the third, great Jove the Saviour,
Guardian of all holy homes,
With your spirit gracious-wafted,
Breathe fair welcome on this band
Of suppliant maids. But in the depth
Of whirling waves engulph the swarm
Of insolent youths, Ægyptus' sons,
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Ere this slimy shore receive
Their hated footprint. Let them labour,
With wrath-spitting seas confronted:
By the wild storm wintry-beating,
Thunder-crashing, lightning flashing,
By the tyrannous blast shower-laden
Let them perish, ere they mount
Marriage beds which right refuses,
Us, their father's brother's daughters
To their lawless yoke enthralling!
The Chorus assemble in a band round the centre of the Orchestra, and sing the Choral Hymn.
STROPHE I.
Give ear to our prayer, we implore thee,
Thou son, and the mother that bore thee—
The calf and the heifer divine!
From afar be thine offspring's avenger,
Even thou, once a beautiful ranger
O'er these meads with the grass-cropping kine!
And thou, whom she bore to her honour,
When the breath of the Highest was on her,
And the touch of the finger divine;
Thine ear, mighty god, we implore thee
To the prayer of thine offspring incline!
Thou son, and the mother that bore thee—
The calf and the heifer divine!
From afar be thine offspring's avenger,
Even thou, once a beautiful ranger
O'er these meads with the grass-cropping kine!
And thou, whom she bore to her honour,
When the breath of the Highest was on her,
And the touch of the finger divine;
Thine ear, mighty god, we implore thee
To the prayer of thine offspring incline!
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O Thou who with blessing anointed,
Wert born when by Fate 'twas appointed,
With thy name to all ages a sign!
In this land of the mother that bore thee,
Her toils we remember before thee,
Where she cropped the green mead with the kine.
O strange were her fortunes, and stranger
The fate that hath chased me from danger
To the home of the heifer divine.
O son, with the mother that bore thee,
Stamp my tale with thy truth for a sign!
STROPHE AND ANTISTROPHE II.Wert born when by Fate 'twas appointed,
With thy name to all ages a sign!
In this land of the mother that bore thee,
Her toils we remember before thee,
Where she cropped the green mead with the kine.
O strange were her fortunes, and stranger
The fate that hath chased me from danger
To the home of the heifer divine.
O son, with the mother that bore thee,
Stamp my tale with thy truth for a sign!
While we cry, should there haply be near us
An Argive, an augur, to hear us,
When our shrill-piercing wail
His ear shall assail,
'Tis the cry he will deem, and none other,
Of Procne, the woe-wedded mother,
The hawk-hunted nightingale;
Sad bird, when its known streams it leaveth,
And with fresh-bleeding grief lonely grieveth,
And telleth the tale,
With a shrill-voiced wail,
How the son that she loved, and none other,
Was slain by his fell-purposed mother,
The woe-wedded nightingale!
STROPHE III.An Argive, an augur, to hear us,
When our shrill-piercing wail
His ear shall assail,
'Tis the cry he will deem, and none other,
Of Procne, the woe-wedded mother,
The hawk-hunted nightingale;
Sad bird, when its known streams it leaveth,
And with fresh-bleeding grief lonely grieveth,
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With a shrill-voiced wail,
How the son that she loved, and none other,
Was slain by his fell-purposed mother,
The woe-wedded nightingale!
Even so from the Nile summer-tinted,
With Ionian wailings unstinted,
My cheek with the keen nail I tear;
And I pluck, where it bloweth,
Grief's blossom that groweth
In this heart first acquainted with care;
And I fear the fierce band,
From the far misty land,
Whom the swift ships to Argos may bear.
ANTISTROPHE III.With Ionian wailings unstinted,
My cheek with the keen nail I tear;
And I pluck, where it bloweth,
Grief's blossom that groweth
In this heart first acquainted with care;
And I fear the fierce band,
From the far misty land,
Whom the swift ships to Argos may bear.
Ye gods of my race, seeing clearly
The right which ye cherish so dearly,
To the haughty your hatred declare!
'Gainst the right ye will never
Chaste virgins deliver,
The bed of the lawless to share;
From the god-fenced altar
Each awe-struck assaulter
Back shrinks. Our sure bulwark is there.
The right which ye cherish so dearly,
To the haughty your hatred declare!
'Gainst the right ye will never
Chaste virgins deliver,
The bed of the lawless to share;
From the god-fenced altar
Each awe-struck assaulter
Back shrinks. Our sure bulwark is there.
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O would that Jove might show to men
His counsel as he planned it;
But ah! he darkly weaves the scheme,
No mortal eye hath scanned it.
It burns through darkness brightly clear
To whom the god shall show it;
But mortal man, through cloudy fear,
Shall search in vain to know it.
ANTISTROPHE IV.His counsel as he planned it;
But ah! he darkly weaves the scheme,
No mortal eye hath scanned it.
It burns through darkness brightly clear
To whom the god shall show it;
But mortal man, through cloudy fear,
Shall search in vain to know it.
Firm to the goal his purpose treads,
His will knows no frustration;
When with his brow the mighty god
Hath nodded consummation.
But strangely, strangely weave their maze
His counsels, dusky wending,
Concealed in densely-tangled ways
From human comprehending.
STROPHE V.His will knows no frustration;
When with his brow the mighty god
Hath nodded consummation.
But strangely, strangely weave their maze
His counsels, dusky wending,
Concealed in densely-tangled ways
From human comprehending.
From their high-towering hopes the proud
In wretched rout he casteth.
No force he wields; his simple will,
His quiet sentence blasteth.
All godlike power is calm; and high
On thrones of glory seated,
Jove looks from Heaven with tranquil eye,
And sees his will completed.
In wretched rout he casteth.
No force he wields; his simple will,
His quiet sentence blasteth.
All godlike power is calm; and high
On thrones of glory seated,
Jove looks from Heaven with tranquil eye,
And sees his will completed.
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Look down, O mighty god, and see
How, this harsh wedlock planning,
That dry old tree in saplings green,
The insolent lust is fanning!
Madly he hugs the frenzied plan
With perverse heart unbending,
Hot-spurred, till Ruin seize the man,
Too late to think of mending.
STROPHE VI.How, this harsh wedlock planning,
That dry old tree in saplings green,
The insolent lust is fanning!
Madly he hugs the frenzied plan
With perverse heart unbending,
Hot-spurred, till Ruin seize the man,
Too late to think of mending.
Ah! well-a-day! ah! well-a-day!
Thus sadly I hymn the sorrowful lay,
With a shrill-voiced cry,
With a sorrow-streaming eye,
Well-a-day, woe's me!
Thus I grace my own tomb with the wail pouring free,
Thus I sing my own dirge, ah me!
Ye Apian hills, be kind to me,
And throw not back the stranger's note,
But know the Libyan wail.
Behold how, rent to sorrow's note,
My linen robes all loosely float,
And my Sidonian veil.
Thus sadly I hymn the sorrowful lay,
With a shrill-voiced cry,
With a sorrow-streaming eye,
Well-a-day, woe's me!
Thus I grace my own tomb with the wail pouring free,
Thus I sing my own dirge, ah me!
Ye Apian hills, be kind to me,
And throw not back the stranger's note,
But know the Libyan wail.
Behold how, rent to sorrow's note,
My linen robes all loosely float,
And my Sidonian veil.
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Ah! well-a-day! ah! well-a-day!
My plighted vows I'll duly pay,
Ye gods, if ye will save
From the foe, and from the grave
My trembling life set free!
Surges high, surges high, sorrow's many-billowed sea,
And woe towers on woe. Ah me!
Ye Apian hills, be kind to me,
And throw not back the stranger's note
But know the Libyan wail!
Behold how, rent to sorrow's note,
My linen robes all loosely float,
And my Sidonian veil!
STROPHE VII.My plighted vows I'll duly pay,
Ye gods, if ye will save
From the foe, and from the grave
My trembling life set free!
Surges high, surges high, sorrow's many-billowed sea,
And woe towers on woe. Ah me!
Ye Apian hills, be kind to me,
And throw not back the stranger's note
But know the Libyan wail!
Behold how, rent to sorrow's note,
My linen robes all loosely float,
And my Sidonian veil!
And yet, in that slight timbered house, well-armed
With frequent-plashing oar,
Stiff sail and cordage straining, all unharmed
By winter's stormy roar,
We reached this Argive shore.
Safely so far. May Jove, the all-seeing, send
As the beginning, so the prosperous end.
And may he grant, indeed,
That we, a gracious mother's gracious seed,
By no harsh kindred wooed,
May live on Apian ground unyoked and unsubdued!
With frequent-plashing oar,
Stiff sail and cordage straining, all unharmed
By winter's stormy roar,
We reached this Argive shore.
Safely so far. May Jove, the all-seeing, send
As the beginning, so the prosperous end.
And may he grant, indeed,
That we, a gracious mother's gracious seed,
By no harsh kindred wooed,
May live on Apian ground unyoked and unsubdued!
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May she, the virgin daughter of high Jove,
Our virgin litany hear,
Our loving homage answering with more love!
She that, with face severe,
Repelled, in awful fear,
Each rude aggressor, in firm virtue cased,
Nor knew the lustful touch divinely chaste.
And may she grant, indeed,
That we, a gracious mother's gracious seed,
By no harsh kindred wooed,
May live on Apian ground unyoked and unsubdued.
STROPHE VIII.Our virgin litany hear,
Our loving homage answering with more love!
She that, with face severe,
Repelled, in awful fear,
Each rude aggressor, in firm virtue cased,
Nor knew the lustful touch divinely chaste.
And may she grant, indeed,
That we, a gracious mother's gracious seed,
By no harsh kindred wooed,
May live on Apian ground unyoked and unsubdued.
But if no aid to us may be,
Libya's swart sun-beaten daughters,
The rope shall end our toils; and we,
Beneath the ground, shall fare to thee,
Thou many-guested Jove,
To thee our suppliant boughs we'll spread,
Thou Saviour of the weary Dead,
Far from the shining thrones of blissful gods above.
Ah, Jove too well we know
What wrath divine scourged ancient Io, wailing
Beneath thy consort's anger heaven-scaling;
And even so,
On Io's seed may blow,
A buffeting blast from her of black despairful woe!
ANTISTROPHE VIII.Libya's swart sun-beaten daughters,
The rope shall end our toils; and we,
Beneath the ground, shall fare to thee,
Thou many-guested Jove,
To thee our suppliant boughs we'll spread,
Thou Saviour of the weary Dead,
Far from the shining thrones of blissful gods above.
Ah, Jove too well we know
What wrath divine scourged ancient Io, wailing
Beneath thy consort's anger heaven-scaling;
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On Io's seed may blow,
A buffeting blast from her of black despairful woe!
O Jove, how then wilt thou be free
From just reproach of Libya's daughters,
If thou in us dishonored see
Him whom the heifer bore to thee
Whom thou didst chiefly love.
If thou from us shalt turn thy face,
What suppliant then shall seek thy grace?
O hear my prayer enthroned in loftiest state above!
For well, too well, we know
What wrath divine scourged ancient Io, wailing
Beneath thy consort's anger heaven-scaling;
And even so
On Io's seed may blow
A buffeting blast from her of black despairful woe.
From just reproach of Libya's daughters,
If thou in us dishonored see
Him whom the heifer bore to thee
Whom thou didst chiefly love.
If thou from us shalt turn thy face,
What suppliant then shall seek thy grace?
O hear my prayer enthroned in loftiest state above!
For well, too well, we know
What wrath divine scourged ancient Io, wailing
Beneath thy consort's anger heaven-scaling;
And even so
On Io's seed may blow
A buffeting blast from her of black despairful woe.
Enter DANAUS.
Be wise, my daughters. In no rash flight with me,
A hoary father, and a faithful pilot,
Ye crossed the seas; nor less is wisdom needful
Ashore: be wise, and on your heart's true tablet
Engrave my words. For lo! where mounts the dust
A voiceless herald of their coming; hear
Their distant-rumbling wheels! A host I see
Of bright shield-bearing and spear-shaking men,
Swift steeds, and rounded cars. Of our here landing,
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Come with their eyes to read us. But be their coming
Harmless, or harsh with fell displeasure, here
On this high-seat of the Agonian gods
Is safety for my daughters; for an altar
Is a sure tower of strength, a shield that bears
The rattling terror dintless. Go ye, therefore,
Embrace these altars, in your sistered hands
These white-wreathed precatory boughs presenting,
Which awful Jove reveres; and with choice phrase
Wisely your pity-moving tale commend
When they shall ask you; as becomes the stranger,
The bloodless motive of your flight declaring
With clear recital. The bold tongue eschewing
With sober-fronted face and quiet eye
Your tale unfold. The garrulous prate, the length
Of slow-drawn speech beware. Such fault offends
This people sorely. Chiefly know to yield:
Thou art the weaker—a poor helpless stranger—
The bold-mouthed phrase suits ill with thy condition.
CHORUS.
Father, thou speakest wisely: nor unwisely
Thy words would we receive, in memory's ward
Storing thy hests; ancestral Jove be witness!
DANAUS.
Even so; and with benignant eye look down!
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[OMITTED]
DANAUS.
Delay not. In performance show thy strength.
CHORUS.
Even there where thou dost sit, I'd sit beside thee!
DANAUS.
O Jove show pity ere pity come too late!
CHORUS.
Jove willing, all is well.
DANAUS.
Him, therefore, pray,
There where his bird the altar decorates: pray
Apollo, too, the pure, the exiled once
From bright Olympus.
CHORUS.
The Sun's restoring rays
We pray: the god what fate he knew will pity.
DANAUS.
May he with pity and with aid be near!
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Whom next shall I invoke?
DANAUS.
Thou seest this trident
And know'st of whom the symbol?
CHORUS.
May the same
That sent us hither kindly now receive us!
DANAUS.
Here's Hermes likewise, as Greece knows the god.
CHORUS.
Be he my herald, heralding the free!
DANAUS.
This common altar of these mighty gods
Adore: within these holy precincts lodged,
Pure doves from hawks of kindred plumage fleeing,
Foes of your blood, polluters of your race.
Can bird eat bird and be an holy thing?
Can man be pure, from an unwilling father
Robbing unwilling brides? Who does these deeds
Will find no refuge from lewd guilt in Hades;
For there, as we have heard, another Jove
Holds final judgment on the guilty shades.
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May the gods grant a victory to our prayers!
Enter King.
Whom speak we here? Whence come? Certes no Greeks.
Your tire rich-flaunting with barbaric pride
Bespeaks you strangers. Argos knows you not,
Nor any part of Greece. Strange surely 'tis
That all unheralded, unattended all,
And of no host the acknowledged guest, unfearing
Ye tread this land. If these boughs, woolly-wreathed,
That grace the altars of the Agonian gods
Speak what to Greeks they should speak, ye are suppliants.
Thus much I see: what more remains to guess
I spare; yourselves have tongues to speak the truth.
CHORUS.
That we are strangers is most true; but whom
See we in thee? a citizen? a priest?
A temple warder with his sacred wand?
The ruler of the state?
KING.
Speak with a fearless tongue, and plainly. I
Of old earth-born Palæcthon am the son,
My name Pelasgus, ruler of this land;
And fathered with my name the men who reap
Earth's fruits beneath my sway are called Pelasgi;
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Toward the westering sun my sceptre holds.
My kingdom the Perrhæbians bound, and those
Beyond high Pindus, by Pæonia, and
The Dodonéan heights; the briny wave
Completes the circling line; within these bounds
I rule; but here, where now thy foot is planted,
The land is Apia, from a wise physician
Of hoary date so called. He, from Naupactus,
Apollo's son, by double right, physician
And prophet both, crossed to this coast, and freed it
By holy purifyings, from the plague
Of man-destroying monsters, which the ground
With ancient taint of blood polluted bore.
This plague his virtue medicinal healed,
That we no more unfriendly fellowship
Hold with the dragon-brood. Such worthy service
With thankful heart the Argive land received,
And Apis lives remembered in her prayers.
Of this from me assured, now let me hear
Your whence, and what your purpose. Briefly speak;
This people hates much phrase.
CHORUS.
Our tale is short.
We by descent are Argives, from the seed
Of the heifer sprung, whose womb was blest in bearing;
And this in every word we can confirm
By manifest proofs.
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That ye are Argives, this
My ear receives not; an unlikely tale!
Like Libyan women rather; not a line
I trace in you that marks our native race.
Nile might produce such daughters; ye do bear
A Cyprian character in your female features,
The impressed likeness of some plastic male.
Of wandering Indians I have heard, that harness
Camels for mules, huge-striding, dwelling near
The swarthy Æthiop land; ye may be such;
Or, had ye war's accoutrement, the bow,
Ye might be Amazons, stern, husband-hating,
Flesh-eating maids. But speak, that I may know
The truth. How vouch ye your descent from Argos?
CHORUS.
They say that Io, on this Argive ground,
Erst bore the keys to Hera, then 'tis said,
So runs the general rumour—
KING.
I have heard.
Was it not so, Jove with the mortal maid
Mingled in love?
CHORUS.
Even so; in love they mingled,
Deceiving Hera's bed.
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And how then ended
The Olympian strife?
CHORUS.
Enraged, the Argive goddess
To a heifer changed the maid.
KING.
And the god came
To the fair horned heifer?
CHORUS.
Like a leaping bull,
Transformed he came; so the hoar legend tells.
KING.
And what did then the potent spouse of Jove?
CHORUS.
She sent a watchman ringed with eyes to watch.
KING.
This all-beholding herdsman, who was he?
CHORUS.
Argus the son of Earth, by Hermes slain.
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How further fared the ill-fated heifer, say?
CHORUS.
A persecuting brize was sent to sting her.
KING.
And o'er the wide earth goaded her the brize?
CHORUS.
Just so; thy tale with mine accordant chimes.
KING.
Then to Canopus, and to Memphis came she?
CHORUS.
There, touched by Jove's boon hand, she bore a son.
KING.
The heifer's boasted offspring, who was he?
CHORUS.
Epaphus, who plainly with his name declares
His mother's safety wrought by touch of Jove.
KING.
[OMITTED]
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Libya, dowered with a fair land's goodly name.
KING.
And from this root divine what other shoots?
CHORUS.
Belus, my father's father, and my uncle's.
KING.
Who is thy honoured father?
CHORUS.
Danaus;
And fifty sons his brother hath, my uncle.
KING.
This brother who? Spare not to tell the whole.
CHORUS.
Ægyptus. Now, O king, our ancient race
Thou knowest. Us from our prostration raising,
Thou raisest Argos.
KING.
Argives in sooth ye seem,
By old descent participant of the soil;
But by what stroke of sore mischance harsh-smitten,
Dared ye to wander from your native seats?
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Pelasgian prince, a motley-threaded web
Is human woe; a wing of dappled plumes.
Past hope and faith it was that we, whose blood
From Argive Io flows, to Io's city,
In startled flight, should measure back our way,
To escape from hated marriage.
KING.
How say'st thou?
To escape from marriage thou art here, displaying
These fresh-cropt branches, snowy-wreathed, before
The Agonian gods?
CHORUS.
Ay! Never, never may we
Be thralled to Ægyptus' sons!
KING.
Speak'st thou of hate
To them, or of a bond your laws forbid?
CHORUS.
Both this and that. Who should be friends were foes,
And blood with blood near-mingled basely flows.
KING.
But branch on branch well grafted goodlier grows.
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Urge not this point; but rather think one word
From thee the wretched rescues.
KING.
How then shall I
My friendly disposition show?
CHORUS.
We ask
But this—from our pursuers save us.
KING.
What!
Shall I for unknown exiles breed a war?
CHORUS.
Justice will fight for him who fights for us.
KING.
Doubtless; if Justice from the first hath stamped
Your cause for hers.
CHORUS
(pointing to the altar).
The state's high poop here crowned
Revere.
KING.
This green environment of shade,
Mantling the seats of the gods I see, and shudder.
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The wrath of suppliant Jove is hard to bear.
Strophe I.
—O hear my cry, benignly hear!
Thou son of Palæcthon, hear me!
The fugitive wandering suppliant hear!
Thou king of Pelasgians, hear me!
Like a heifer young by the wolf pursued
O'er the rocks so cliffy and lonely,
And loudly it lows to the herdsman good,
Whose strength can save it only.
—O hear my cry, benignly hear!
Thou son of Palæcthon, hear me!
The fugitive wandering suppliant hear!
Thou king of Pelasgians, hear me!
Like a heifer young by the wolf pursued
O'er the rocks so cliffy and lonely,
And loudly it lows to the herdsman good,
Whose strength can save it only.
KING.
My eyes are tasked; there, 'neath the shielding shade
Of fresh-lopt branches I behold you clinging
To these Agonian gods; but what I do
Must spare the state from harm. I must provide
That no unlooked-for unprepared event
Beget new strife; of this we have enough.
CHORUS.
Antistrophe I.
—Great Jove that allotteth their lot to all,
By his sentence of right shall clear thee,
Dread Themis that heareth the suppliants' call,
No harm shall allow to come near thee.
Though I speak to the old with the voice of the young,
Do the will of the gods, and surely
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When thy gifts thou offerest purely.
KING.
Not at my hearth with precatory boughs
Ye lie. The state, if guilty taint from you
Affect the general weal, will for the state
Take counsel. I nor pledge nor promise give,
Till all the citizens hear what thou shalt say.
CHORUS.
Trophe II.
—Thou art the state, and the people art thou,
The deed that thou doest who judges?
The hearth and the altar before thee bow,
The grace that thou grantest who grudges?
Thou noddest; the will that thou willest is thine,
Thy vote with no voter thou sharest;
The throne is all thine, and the sceptre divine,
And thy guilt, when thou sinnest, thou bearest.
KING.
Guilt lie on those that hate me! but your prayers
Harmless I may not hear; and to reject them
Were harsh. To do, and not to do alike
Perplex me; on the edge of choice I tremble.
CHORUS.
Antistrophe II.
—Him worship who sitteth a watchman in Heaven,
And looks on this life of our labour;
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From the gate of his pitiless neighbour.
On our knees when we fall, and for mercy we call,
If his right thou deny to the stranger,
Jove shall look on thy home, from his thunder dome,
Sternly wrathful, the suppliants' avenger.
KING.
But if Ægyptus' sons shall claim you, pleading
Their country's laws, and their near kinship, who
Shall dare to stand respondent? You must plead
Your native laws, so the laws plead for you,
And speak you free from who would force your love.
CHORUS.
Strophe III.
—Ah ne'er to the rough-handed youth let me yield,
But rather alone, 'neath the wide starry field,
Let me wander, an outcast, a stranger!
The ill-sorted yoke I abhor: and do thou,
With Justice to second thee, judge for me now,
And fear Him above, the Avenger!
KING.
Not I shall judge: it is no easy judgment.
What I have said, I said. Without the people
I cannot do this thing; being absolute king,
I would not. Justly, if mischance shall follow,
The popular tongue will blame the ruler, who,
To save the stranger, ruined his own flock,
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Antistrophe III.
—Where kindred with kindred contendeth in war,
Jove looks on the strife, and decides from afar,
Where he holdeth the scales even-handed;
O why wilt thou doubt to declare for the right?
He blesseth the good, but in anger will smite,
Where the sons of the wicked are banded.
KING.
To advise for you in such confounding depths,
My soul should be a diver, to plunge down
Far in the pool profound, with seeing eye,
And feel no dizziness. 'Tis no light matter
Here to unite your safety and the state's.
If that your kindred claim you as their right,
And we withstand, a bloody strife ensues.
If from these altars of the gods we tear you,
Your chosen refuge, we shall surely bring
The all-destroying god, the stern Alastor,
To house with us, whom not the dead in Hades
Can flee. Is here no cause to ponder well?
CHORUS.
Strophe I.
—Ponder well;
With thee to dwell,
A righteous-minded host receive us!
Weary-worn,
Exiles lorn,
From the godless men that grieve us
Save to-day;
Nor cast-a-way
Homeless, houseless, hopeless leave us!
ANTISTROPHE I.—Ponder well;
With thee to dwell,
108
Weary-worn,
Exiles lorn,
From the godless men that grieve us
Save to-day;
Nor cast-a-way
Homeless, houseless, hopeless leave us!
Shall rash assaulters
From these altars
Rudely drag the friendless stranger?
Thou art king,
'Neath thy wing
Cowers in vain the weak from danger?
Thy terror show
To our fierce foe,
Fear, O fear our High Avenger!
STROPHE II.From these altars
Rudely drag the friendless stranger?
Thou art king,
'Neath thy wing
Cowers in vain the weak from danger?
Thy terror show
To our fierce foe,
Fear, O fear our High Avenger!
Where they see
The gods and thee,
Shall their lawless will not falter?
Shall they tear
My floating hair,
As a horse dragged by the halter?
Wilt thou bear
Him to tear
My frontlets fair,
My linen robes—the bold assaulter?
The gods and thee,
Shall their lawless will not falter?
Shall they tear
My floating hair,
As a horse dragged by the halter?
Wilt thou bear
Him to tear
My frontlets fair,
My linen robes—the bold assaulter?
109
One the danger,
If the stranger
Thou reject, or welcome wisely:
For thee and thine
To Mars a fine
Thou shalt pay the same precisely:
From Egypt far
Fearing war,
Thou shalt mar
Thy peace with mighty Jove, not wisely.
If the stranger
Thou reject, or welcome wisely:
For thee and thine
To Mars a fine
Thou shalt pay the same precisely:
From Egypt far
Fearing war,
Thou shalt mar
Thy peace with mighty Jove, not wisely.
KING.
Both ways I'm marred. Even here my wits are stranded.
With these or those harsh war to make, strong Force
Compels my will. Nailed am I like a vessel
Screwed to the dock, beneath the shipwright's tool.
Which way I turn is woe. A plundered house
By grace of possessory Jove may freight
New ships with bales that far outweigh the loss;
And a rash tongue that overshoots the mark
With barbéd phrase that harshly frets the heart,
With one smooth word, may charm the offence away.
But ere the sluice of kindred blood be opened,
With vows and victims we must pray the gods
Importunate, if perchance such fateful harm
They may avert. Myself were little wise
To mingle in this strife: of such a war
110
Deceive my fears, and crown your hopes with blessing!
CHORUS.
Now hear the end of my respectful prayers.
KING.
I hear. Speak on. Thy words shall not escape me.
CHORUS.
Thou see'st this sash, this zone my stole begirding.
KING.
Fit garniture of women. Yes; I see it.
CHORUS.
This zone well-used may serve us well.
KING.
How so?
CHORUS.
If thou refuse to pledge our safety, then—
KING.
Thy zone shall pledge it how?
CHORUS.
Thou shalt behold
These ancient altars with new tablets hung.
111
Thou speak'st in riddles. Explain.
CHORUS.
These gods shall see me
Here hanging from their shrines.
KING.
Hush, maiden! Hush!
Thy words pierce through my marrow!
CHORUS.
Thou hast heard
No blind enigma now. I gave it eyes.
KING.
Alas! with vast environment of ills
I'm hedged all round. Misfortune, like a sea
Comes rushing in: the deep unfathomed flood
I fear to cross, and find no harbour nigh.
Thy prayer if I refuse, black horror rises
Before me, that no highest-pointed aim
May overshoot. If posted fore these walls
I give thy kindred battle, I shall be
Amerced with bitter loss, who reckless dared
For woman's sake to incarnadine the plain
With brave men's blood. Yet I perforce must fear
The wrath of suppliant Jove, than which no terror
Awes human hearts more strongly. Take these branches,
112
On other altars of the native gods,
Where they may speak, true heralds of thy mission,
To all the citizens: and, mark me, keep
My words within thy breast: for still the people
To spy a fault in whoso bears authority
Have a most subtle sight. Trust your good cause.
Thy pitiful tale may move their righteous ire
Against your haughty-hearted persecutors,
And 'neath their wings they'll shield you. The afflicted
Plead for themselves: their natural due is kindness.
DANAUS.
Your worth we know to prize, and at their weight
Our high protector's friendly words we value.
But send, we pray, attendant guides, to show us
The pillar-compassed seats divine, the altars
That stand before their temples, who protect
This city and this land, and to insure
Our safety mid the people: for our coming
(Being strangers from the distant Nile, and not
Like you that drink the stream of Inachus
In features or in bearing) might seem strange.
Too bold an air might rouse suspicion; men
Oft-times have slain their best friends unawares.
KING
(to the Attendants).
See him escorted well! conduct him hence
To the altars of the city, to the shrines
113
On whom you meet. Attend the suppliant stranger!
[Exeunt attendants with Danaus.
CHORUS.
These words to him: and, with his sails well trimmed,
Fair be his voyage! But I, what shall I do,
My anchor where?
KING.
Here leave these boughs that prove
Thy sorrows.
CHORUS.
Here at thy rever'd command
I leave them.
KING.
This ample wood shall shade thee; wait thou here!
CHORUS.
No sacred grove is this: how should it shield me?
KING.
We will not yield thee to the vultures' claws.
CHORUS.
But worse than vultures, worse than dragons threat us.
KING.
Gently. To fair words give a fair reply.
114
I'm terror-struck. Small marvel that I fret.
KING.
Fear should be far, when I the king am near.
CHORUS.
With kind words cheer me, and kind actions too.
KING.
Thy father will return anon; meanwhile
I go to call the assembly of the people,
And in thy favour move them, if I can.
Thy father, too, I'll aptly train, how he
Should woo their favor. Wait ye here, and pray
The native gods to crown your hearts' desire.
I go to speed the business; may Persuasion
And Chance, with happy issue pregnant, guide me!
CHORAL HYMN.
STROPHE I.
King of all kings, high-blest above
Each blest celestial nature,
Strength of the strong, all-glorious Jove,
All crowning Consummator!
Hear thou our prayer: the proud confound;
With hate pursue the hateful,
And plunge in purpling pools profound
The black-bench'd bark, the fateful!
ANTISTROPHE I.Each blest celestial nature,
Strength of the strong, all-glorious Jove,
All crowning Consummator!
115
With hate pursue the hateful,
And plunge in purpling pools profound
The black-bench'd bark, the fateful!
Our ancient line from thee we trace
Our root divinely planted;
Look on these sisters with the grace
To that loved maid once granted,
Our mother Io; and renew
Sweet memory in the daughters
Of her thy gentle touch who knew
By Nile's deep-rolling waters.
STROPHE II.Our root divinely planted;
Look on these sisters with the grace
To that loved maid once granted,
Our mother Io; and renew
Sweet memory in the daughters
Of her thy gentle touch who knew
By Nile's deep-rolling waters.
Here, even here, where 'mid the browsing kine,
My Argive mother fed her eye divine,
With rich mead's flowery store,
My Libyan foot I've planted; hence by the brize
Divinely fretted with fitful oar she hies
From various shore to shore,
God-madded wanderer. Twice the billowy wave
She crossed; and twice her fated name she gave
To the wide sea's straitened roar.
ANTISTROPHE II.My Argive mother fed her eye divine,
With rich mead's flowery store,
My Libyan foot I've planted; hence by the brize
Divinely fretted with fitful oar she hies
From various shore to shore,
God-madded wanderer. Twice the billowy wave
She crossed; and twice her fated name she gave
To the wide sea's straitened roar.
Spurred through the Asian land with swiftest speed
She fled, where Phrygian flocks far-pasturing feed;
Then restless travelled o'er
Mysia, where Teuthras holds his fortress high,
Cilician and Pamphylian heights, and nigh
Where roaring waters pour
From fountains ever fresh their torrent floods,
And Aphrodite's land whose loamy roods
Swell with the wheaten store.
STROPHE III.She fled, where Phrygian flocks far-pasturing feed;
116
Mysia, where Teuthras holds his fortress high,
Cilician and Pamphylian heights, and nigh
Where roaring waters pour
From fountains ever fresh their torrent floods,
And Aphrodite's land whose loamy roods
Swell with the wheaten store.
Thence by her wingéd keeper stung, she speeds
To the land divine, the many-nurturing meads,
And to the snow-fed stream,
Which like impetuous Typhon, vasty pours
Its purest waves, that the salubrious shores
From pestilent taint redeem.
Here from harsh Hera's madly-goading pest,
From hattering chase of undeserved unrest,
At length by the holy stream
ANTISTROPHE III.To the land divine, the many-nurturing meads,
And to the snow-fed stream,
Which like impetuous Typhon, vasty pours
Its purest waves, that the salubrious shores
From pestilent taint redeem.
Here from harsh Hera's madly-goading pest,
From hattering chase of undeserved unrest,
At length by the holy stream
She rests. Pale terror smote their hearts who saw.
The unwonted sight beheld with startled awe
The thronging sons of Nile;
Nor dared to approach this thing of human face,
Portentous-mingled with the lowing race,
Treading the Libyan soil.
Who then was he, the brize-stung Io's friend,
With charms of soothing virtue strong to end
Her weary-wandering toil?
STROPHE IV.The unwonted sight beheld with startled awe
The thronging sons of Nile;
Nor dared to approach this thing of human face,
Portentous-mingled with the lowing race,
117
Who then was he, the brize-stung Io's friend,
With charms of soothing virtue strong to end
Her weary-wandering toil?
Jove, mighty Jove, Heaven's everlasting king,
He soft-inspiring came,
And with fond force innocuous heals her ills;
She from her eyes in lucent drops distils
The stream of sorrowful shame,
And in her womb from Jove a burden bore,
A son of blameless fame,
Who with his prosperous life long blessed the Libyan shore.
ANTISTROPHE IV.He soft-inspiring came,
And with fond force innocuous heals her ills;
She from her eyes in lucent drops distils
The stream of sorrowful shame,
And in her womb from Jove a burden bore,
A son of blameless fame,
Who with his prosperous life long blessed the Libyan shore.
Far-pealed the land with jubilant shout—from Jove,
From Jove it surely came,
This living root of a far-branching line!
For who but Jove prevailed, with power divine,
Harsh Hera's wrath to tame?
Such the great work of Jove; and we are such,
O Jove, our race who claim
From him whose name declares the virtue of thy touch.
STROPHE V.From Jove it surely came,
This living root of a far-branching line!
For who but Jove prevailed, with power divine,
Harsh Hera's wrath to tame?
Such the great work of Jove; and we are such,
O Jove, our race who claim
From him whose name declares the virtue of thy touch.
For whom more justly shall my hymn be chaunted
Than thee, above all gods that be, high-vaunted,
Root of my race, great Jove;
Prime moulder from whose plastic-touching hand
Life leaps: thine ancient-minded counsels stand,
Thou all-devising Jove.
ANTISTROPHE V.Than thee, above all gods that be, high-vaunted,
118
Prime moulder from whose plastic-touching hand
Life leaps: thine ancient-minded counsels stand,
Thou all-devising Jove.
High-throned above the highest as the lowest,
Beyond thee none, and mightier none thou knowest,
The unfearing, all-feared one.
When his deep thought takes counsel to fulfil,
No dull delays clog Jove's decided will;
He speaks, and it is done.
Beyond thee none, and mightier none thou knowest,
The unfearing, all-feared one.
When his deep thought takes counsel to fulfil,
No dull delays clog Jove's decided will;
He speaks, and it is done.
Enter DANAUS.
Be of good cheer, my daughters! All is well,
The popular voice hath perfected our prayers.
CHORUS.
Hail father, bearer of good news: but say,
How was the matter stablished? and how far
Prevailed the people's uplifted hands to save us?
DANAUS.
Not doubtingly, but with a bold decision,
That made my old heart young again to see't.
With one acclaim, a forest of right hands
Rose through the hurtled air. These Libyan exiles—
So ran the popular will—shall find a home
In Argos, free, and from each robber hand
Inviolate, the native or the stranger;
119
To shield these virgins from the threatened force,
Disgrace shall brand him, and the popular vote
Oust him from Argos. Such response the king
Persuasive forced, with wise admonishment;
Urging the wrath of Jove, which else provoked
Would fatten on our woes, and the twin wrong
To you the stranger, and to them the city,
Pollution at their gate, a fuel to feed
Ills without end. These words the Argive people
Answered with suffragating hands, nor waited
The herald's call to register their votes:
Just eloquence ruled their willing ear, and Jove
Crowned their fair purpose with the perfect deed.
[Exit.
CHORUS.
Come then, sisters, pour we freely
Grateful prayers for Argive kindness;
Jove, the stranger's friend, befriend us,
While from stranger's mouth sincerest
Here we voice the hymn;
To a blameless issue, surely,
Jove will guide the fate.
CHORAL HYMN.
STROPHE I.
Jove-born gods, benignly bending,
Look, we pray, with eyes befriending,
On these Argive halls!
Ne'er may Mars, the wanton daring,
With his shrill trump, joyless-blaring,
Wrap, in wild flames, fiercely flaring,
These Pelasgian walls!
Go! thy gory harvest reaping
Far from us: thy bloody weeping
Distant tribes may know.
Bless, O Jove, this Argive nation!
They have heard the supplication
Of thy suppliants low;
Where the swooping Fate abased us,
They with Mercy's vote upraised us
From the prostrate woe!
ANTISTROPHE I.Look, we pray, with eyes befriending,
On these Argive halls!
Ne'er may Mars, the wanton daring,
120
Wrap, in wild flames, fiercely flaring,
These Pelasgian walls!
Go! thy gory harvest reaping
Far from us: thy bloody weeping
Distant tribes may know.
Bless, O Jove, this Argive nation!
They have heard the supplication
Of thy suppliants low;
Where the swooping Fate abased us,
They with Mercy's vote upraised us
From the prostrate woe!
Not with the male, the stronger, erring,
But, woman's weaker cause preferring,
Stood their virtue proof:
Wisely Jove, the Avenger, fearing,
To the chastened eye appearing,
High his front of wrath up-rearing
'Gainst the guilty roof.
For heavily, heavily weighs the Alastor,
Scapeless, and, with sore disaster,
Sinks the sinner low.
Bless, O Jove, this Argive nation,
That knew their kindred's supplication,
And saved them from the foe:
And when their vows they pay, then surely
Gifts from clean hands offered purely
Thou in grace shalt know.
But, woman's weaker cause preferring,
Stood their virtue proof:
Wisely Jove, the Avenger, fearing,
To the chastened eye appearing,
High his front of wrath up-rearing
'Gainst the guilty roof.
For heavily, heavily weighs the Alastor,
Scapeless, and, with sore disaster,
Sinks the sinner low.
Bless, O Jove, this Argive nation,
That knew their kindred's supplication,
And saved them from the foe:
And when their vows they pay, then surely
Gifts from clean hands offered purely
Thou in grace shalt know.
121
High these suppliant branches raising,
Sisters, ancient Argos praising,
Pour the grateful strain!
Far from thy Pelasgian portals
Dwell black Plague, from drooping mortals
Ebbing life to drain!
May'st thou see the crimson river
From fierce home-bred slaughter, never
Flowing o'er thy plain!
Far from thee the youth-consuming
Blossom-plucking strife!
The harsh spouse of Aphrodite,
Furious Mars in murder mighty,
Where he sees thy beauty blooming,
Spare his blood-smeared knife!
ANTISTROPHE II.Sisters, ancient Argos praising,
Pour the grateful strain!
Far from thy Pelasgian portals
Dwell black Plague, from drooping mortals
Ebbing life to drain!
May'st thou see the crimson river
From fierce home-bred slaughter, never
Flowing o'er thy plain!
Far from thee the youth-consuming
Blossom-plucking strife!
The harsh spouse of Aphrodite,
Furious Mars in murder mighty,
Where he sees thy beauty blooming,
Spare his blood-smeared knife!
May a reverend priesthood hoary
Belt thy shrines, their chiefest glory,
With an holy band!
By the bountiful libation,
By the blazing pile, this nation
Shall securely stand.
Jove, the great All-ruler, fearing,
Jove, the stranger's stay, revering,
Ye shall save the land;
Jove, sure-throned above all cavil,
Rules by ancient right.
May just rulers never fail thee!
Holy Hecate's aid avail thee,
To thy mothers when in travail
Sending labours light!
STROPHE III.Belt thy shrines, their chiefest glory,
With an holy band!
By the bountiful libation,
By the blazing pile, this nation
Shall securely stand.
Jove, the great All-ruler, fearing,
Jove, the stranger's stay, revering,
Ye shall save the land;
122
Rules by ancient right.
May just rulers never fail thee!
Holy Hecate's aid avail thee,
To thy mothers when in travail
Sending labours light!
May no wasting march of ruin
Work, O Argos, thine undoing!
Never may'st thou hear
Cries of Mars, the shrill, the lyreless!
Ne'er may tearful moans, and quireless,
Wake the sleeper's ear!
Far from thee the shapes black-trooping
Of disease, delightless-drooping!
May the blazing death-winged arrow
Of the Sun-god spare the marrow
Of thy children dear!
ANTISTROPHE III.Work, O Argos, thine undoing!
Never may'st thou hear
Cries of Mars, the shrill, the lyreless!
Ne'er may tearful moans, and quireless,
Wake the sleeper's ear!
Far from thee the shapes black-trooping
Of disease, delightless-drooping!
May the blazing death-winged arrow
Of the Sun-god spare the marrow
Of thy children dear!
Mighty Jove, the gracious giver,
With his full-sheaved bounty ever
Crown the fruited year!
Flocks that graze before thy dwelling
With rich increase yearly swelling
The prosperous ploughman cheer!
May the gods no grace deny thee,
And the tuneful Muses nigh thee,
With exuberant raptures brimming,
From virgin throats thy praises hymning
Hold the charmèd ear!
STROPHE IV.With his full-sheaved bounty ever
Crown the fruited year!
Flocks that graze before thy dwelling
With rich increase yearly swelling
The prosperous ploughman cheer!
May the gods no grace deny thee,
And the tuneful Muses nigh thee,
123
From virgin throats thy praises hymning
Hold the charmèd ear!
O'er the general weal presiding,
They that rule with far-providing
Wisdom sway, and stably-guiding,
Changeful counsels mar!
Timely with each foreign nation
Leagues of wise conciliation
Let them join, fierce wars avoiding,
From sharp losses far!
ANTISTROPHE IV.They that rule with far-providing
Wisdom sway, and stably-guiding,
Changeful counsels mar!
Timely with each foreign nation
Leagues of wise conciliation
Let them join, fierce wars avoiding,
From sharp losses far!
The native gods, strong to deliver,
With blood of oxen free-poured ever,
With laurel-branches failing never,
Piously adore!
Honour thy parents: spurn not lightly
This prime statute sanctioned rightly;
Cling to this, a holy liver,
Steadfast evermore!
With blood of oxen free-poured ever,
With laurel-branches failing never,
Piously adore!
Honour thy parents: spurn not lightly
This prime statute sanctioned rightly;
Cling to this, a holy liver,
Steadfast evermore!
Re-enter DANAUS.
Well hymned, my daughters! I commend your prayers;
But brace your hearts, nor fear, though I, your father,
Approach the bearer of unlooked for news.
124
I spy the ship; too gallantly it peers
To cheat mine eye. The sinuous sail I see,
The bulging fence-work on each side, the prow
Fronted with eyes to track its watery way,
True to the steerman's hint that sits behind,
And with no friendly bearing. On the deck
Appear the crew, their swarthy limbs more swart
By snow-white vests revealed: a goodly line
Of succour in the rear: but in the van
The admiral ship, with low-furled sail makes way
By the swift strokes of measured-beating oars.
Wait calmly ye, and with well-counselled awe
Cling to the gods; the while ye watch their coming,
Myself will hence, and straight return with aid
To champion our need. For I must look for
Some herald or ambassador claiming you,
Their rightful prey, forthwith; but fear ye not,
Their harsh will may not be. This warning take
Should we with help be slow, remain you here
Nor leave these gods, your strength. Faint not: for surely
Comes the appointed hour, and will not stay,
When godless men to Jove just fine shall pay.
CHORUS.
Strophe I.
—Father, I tremble, lest the fleet-winged ships,
Ere thou return, shall land—soon—very soon!
125
When the bands of the ruthless are near!
My flight to foreclose from the chase of my foes!
O father I faint for fear!
DANAUS.
Fear not my children. The accomplished vote
Of Argos saves you. They are champions sworn.
CHORUS.
Antistrophe I.
—They come—destruction's minions mad with hate,
Of fight insatiate: well thou know'st the men.
With their host many-counted, their ships dark-fronted,
They are near, O father, how near!
Their ships stoutly-timbered, their crews swarthy-membered,
Triumphant in wrath I fear!
DANAUS.
Even let them come. They'll find their match in Argos;
A strong-limbed race with noon-day sweats well hardened.
CHORUS.
Strophe II.
—Only not leave me! Pray thee, father stay!
Weak is a lonely woman. No Mars is in her.
126
Unholy, as obscene crows
On the feast of the altar that filthily prey;
They fear not the gods, my foes!
DANAUS.
'Twill make our cause the stronger, daughters, if
Their crime be sacrilege, and their foes the gods.
CHORUS.
Antistrophe II.
—The trident and the sacred blazonry
Will not repel their violent hands, O father!
They are proud, haughty-hearted, a high-blown race;
They are hot, they are mad for the fray!
With the hound in their heart, and the dog in their face,
They will tear from the altar their prey.
DANAUS.
Dogs let them be, the world has wolves to master them!
And good Greek corn is better than papyrus.
CHORUS.
Being reasonless as brutes, unholy monsters,
And spurred with wrath we must beware their fury.
127
'Tis no light work to land a fleet. To find
Safe roads, sure anchorage, and to make fast
The cables, this not with mere thought is done.
The shepherds of the ships are slow to feel
Full confidence, the more that on this coast
Harbours are few. Besides, thou see'st the sun
Slants to the night; and still a prudent pilot
Fears in the dark. No man will disembark,
Trust me, till all are firmly anchored. Thou
Through all thy terrors still cling to the gods,
Thy most sure stay. Thy safety's pledged. For me
I'm old, but with the tongue of fluent youth
I'll speak for thee, a pleader without blame.
[Exit.
CHORAL HYMN.
STROPHE I.
O hilly land, high-honored land,
What wait we now, poor fugitive band?
Some dark, dark cave
Show me, within thy winding strand,
To hide and save!
Would I might vanish in smoke, ascending
To Heaven, with Jove's light clouds dim-blending
In misty air,
Like wingless, viewless dust, and ending
In nothing there!
What wait we now, poor fugitive band?
Some dark, dark cave
Show me, within thy winding strand,
To hide and save!
Would I might vanish in smoke, ascending
To Heaven, with Jove's light clouds dim-blending
In misty air,
Like wingless, viewless dust, and ending
In nothing there!
128
'Tis more than heart may bear. Quick Fear
My quaking life with dusky drear
Alarm surroundeth!
My father spied my ruin: sheer
Despair confoundeth.
Sooner, high-swung from fatal rope,
Here may I end both life and hope,
And strong Death bind me,
Than hated hearts shall reach their scope,
And shame shall find me!
STROPHE II.My quaking life with dusky drear
Alarm surroundeth!
My father spied my ruin: sheer
Despair confoundeth.
Sooner, high-swung from fatal rope,
Here may I end both life and hope,
And strong Death bind me,
Than hated hearts shall reach their scope,
And shame shall find me!
Would I were throned in ether high,
Where snows are born, and through the sky
The white rack skurries! Would that I
Might sit sublime
On a hanging cliff where lone winds sigh,
Where human finger never showed
The far-perched vultures' drear abode,
Nor goat may climb!
Thence sheer to leap, and end for ever
My life and name,
Ere forceful hands this heart deliver
To married shame!
ANTISTROPHE II.Where snows are born, and through the sky
The white rack skurries! Would that I
Might sit sublime
On a hanging cliff where lone winds sigh,
Where human finger never showed
The far-perched vultures' drear abode,
Nor goat may climb!
Thence sheer to leap, and end for ever
My life and name,
Ere forceful hands this heart deliver
To married shame!
There, where no friendly foot may stray,
There let me lie, my limbs a prey
To dogs and birds: I not gainsay:
'Twas wisely said,
Free from much woe who dies to-day
Shall be to-morrow. Rather than wedded
To whom I hate, let me be bedded
Now with the dead!
Or if there be, my life to free,
A way, declare it,
Ye gods!—a surgeon's cut for me,
My heart shall bear it!
STROPHE III.There let me lie, my limbs a prey
129
'Twas wisely said,
Free from much woe who dies to-day
Shall be to-morrow. Rather than wedded
To whom I hate, let me be bedded
Now with the dead!
Or if there be, my life to free,
A way, declare it,
Ye gods!—a surgeon's cut for me,
My heart shall bear it!
Voice ye your sorrow! with the cry
Of doleful litany pierce the sky!
For freedom, for quick rescue cry
To him above!
Ruler of Earth, look from thy throne,
With eyes of love!
These deeds of violence wilt thou own,
Nor know thy prostrate suppliant's groan,
Almighty Jove?
ANTISTROPHE III.Of doleful litany pierce the sky!
For freedom, for quick rescue cry
To him above!
Ruler of Earth, look from thy throne,
With eyes of love!
These deeds of violence wilt thou own,
Nor know thy prostrate suppliant's groan,
Almighty Jove?
Ægyptus' sons, a haughty race,
Follow my flight with sleepless chase,
With whoop and bay they scent my trace
To force my love.
Thy beam is true; both good and ill
Thy sure scales prove,
Thou even-handed! Mortals still
Reap fair fulfilment from thy will,
All-crowning Jove.
Follow my flight with sleepless chase,
With whoop and bay they scent my trace
To force my love.
Thy beam is true; both good and ill
Thy sure scales prove,
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Reap fair fulfilment from thy will,
All-crowning Jove.
CHORUS
(In separate voices, and short hurried exclamations.)
Voice 1.
—Ah me! he lands!—he leaps ashore!
He strides with ruffian hands to hale us!
Voice 2.
—Cry, sisters, cry! swift help implore!
If here to cry may aught avail us!
Voice 3.
—Ah me! 'tis but the muffled roar
Of forceful storms soon to assail us!
Voice 1.
—Flee to the gods! to the altars cling!
Voice 2.
—By sea, by land, the ruthless foe
Grimly wantons in our woe!
Voice 3.
—Beneath thy wing shield us, O king!
Enter HERALD.
Hence to the ships! to the good ships fare ye!
Swiftly as your feet may bear ye!
CHORUS.
Tear us! tear us!
Rend us rather,
Torture and tear us!
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Cut the head!
Gorily gather
Us to the dead!
HERALD.
Hence to the ships, away! away!
A curse on you, and your delay!
O'er the briny billowy way
Thou shalt go to-day, to-day!
Wilt thou stand, a mulish striver,
I can spur, a forceful driver;
Deftly, deftly, thou shalt trip
To the stoutly-timbered ship!
If to yield thou wilt not know,
Gorily, gorily thou shalt go!
An' thou be not madded wholly,
Know thy state, and quit thy folly!
CHORUS.
Help, ho! help, ho! help!
HERALD.
To the ships! to the ships away with me!
These gods of Argos what reck we?
CHORUS.
Never, O never
The nurturing river,
Of life the giver,
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That quickens the blood
Let me behold!
An Argive am I,
From Inachus old,
These gods deny
Thy claim. Withhold!
HERALD.
To the ships, to the ships, with march not slow,
Will ye, nill ye, ye must go!
Quickly, quickly, hence away!
Know thy master and obey!
Ere a worst thing thou shalt know—
Blows and beating—gently go!
CHORUS.
Strophe I.
—Worse than worsest
May'st thou know!
As thou cursest,
Curst be so!
The briny billow
O'er thee flow!
On sandy pillow
Bedded low,
'Neath Sarpedon's breezy brow,
With the shifting sands shift thou!
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Scream—rend your robes in rags!—call on the gods!
The Egyptian bark thou shalt not overleap.
Pour ye the bitter bootless wail at will!
CHORUS.
Antistrophe I.
—With fierce heart swelling
To work my woe,
With keen hate yelling
Barks the foe.
Broad Nile welling
O'er thee flow!
Find thy dwelling
Bedded low
'Neath the towering Libyan waters,
Towering thou 'gainst Libya's daughters!
HERALD.
To the ships! to the ships! the swift ships even-oared!
Quickly! no laggard shifts! the hand that drags thee
Will lord it o'er thy locks, not gently handled!
CHORUS.
Strophe II.
—O father, oh!
From the altar
The assaulter
Drags me to my woe!
Step by step, a torturing guider,
Like the slowly-dragging spider,
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Like a dream,
A dusky dream,
My hope away doth go!
O Earth, O Earth,
From death redeem!
O Earth, O Jove deliver!
HERALD.
Your Argive gods I know not; they nor nursed
My infant life, nor reared my riper age.
CHORUS.
Antistrophe II.
—O father, oh!
From the altar
The assaulter
Drags me to my woe!
A snake two-footed fiercely fretted
Swells beside me! from his whetted
Fangs, black death doth flow!
Like a dream,
A dusky dream,
My hope is vanished so!
O Earth, O Earth
From death redeem!
O Earth, O Jove deliver!
HERALD.
To the ships! to the ships! Obey! I say, obey!
Pity thy robes, if not thy flesh—away!
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Strophe III.
—Ye chiefs of the city,
By force they subdue me!
HERALD.
Well! I must drag thee by the hair! come! come!
Point thy dull ears, and hear me!—come! come! come!
CHORUS.
Antistrophe III.
—I'm lost! I'm ruined!
O king they undo me!
HERALD.
Thou shalt see kings enough anon, believe me,
Ægyptus' sons—kingless thou shalt not die.
Enter KING with attendants.
Fellow, what wouldst thou? With what purpose here
Dost flout this land of brave Pelasgian men?
Deem'st thou us women? A barbarian truly
Art thou, if o'er the Greek to sport it thus
The fancy tempts thee. Nay, but thou art wrong
Both root and branch in this.
HERALD.
How wrong? Speak plainly.
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Thou art a stranger here, and dost not know
As a stranger how to bear thee.
HERALD.
This I know,
I lost my own, and what I lost I found.
KING.
Thy patrons who, on this Pelasgian ground?
HERALD.
To find stray goods the world all over, Hermes
Is prince of patrons.
KING.
Hermes is a god,
Thou, therefore, fear the gods.
HERALD.
And I do fear
The gods of the Nile.
KING.
We too have gods in Argos.
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So be it: but, in Argos or in Africk,
My own's my own.
KING.
Who touches these reaps harm,
And that right soon.
HERALD.
No friendly word thou speak'st,
To welcome strangers.
KING.
Strangers are welcome here;
But not to spoil the gods.
HERALD.
These words of thine
To Ægyptus' sons be spoken, not to me.
KING.
I take no counsel, or from them, or thee.
HERALD.
Thou—who art thou? for I must plainly make
Rehearsal to my masters—this my office
Enforces—both by whom, and why, unjustly
I of this kindred company of women
Am robbed. A serious strife it is; no bandying
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From hand to hand will lay such ugly strife;
But man for man must fall, and noblest souls
Must dash their lives away.
KING.
For what I am,
You, and your shipmates, soon enough shall know me.
These maids, if with the softly suasive word
Thou canst prevail, are thine; to force we never
Will yield the suppliant sisters; thus the people
With one acclaim have voted; 'tis nailed down
Thus to the letter. So it must remain.
Thou hast my answer, not in tablets graven,
Or in the volumed scroll, all stamped and sealed,
But from a free Greek mouth. Dost understand me?
Hence quickly from my sight!
HERALD.
Of this be sure,
A war thou stirrest, in which, when once begun,
The males will be the stronger.
KING.
We too, have males
In Argos, lusty-blooded men, who drink
Good wine, not brewed from barley. As for you,
139
Shall lead. Our city strongly girt with wall,
And high-reared tower receives you. We can boast
Full many a stately mansion; stateliest piled
My palace stands, work of no feeble hands.
Right pleasant 'tis in populous floors to lodge
With many a fellow-tenant: some will find
A greater good in closely severed homes,
That have no common gates: of these thou hast
The ample choice: take what shall like thee most.
Know me thy patron, and in all things know
My citizens thy shield, whose vote hath pledged
Thy safety; surer guarantee what wouldst thou?
CHORUS.
Blessing for thy blessing given,
Flow to thee, divine Pelasgian!
But for our advisal forthwith
Send, we pray thee, for our father:
He the firm, the far foreseeing,
How to live, and where to lodge us,
Duly shall direct. For ever
Quick to note the faults of strangers
Sways the general tongue; though we
Hope all that's good and best from thee.
KING
(to the attendant maids).
Likewise you, ye maids attendant
For his daughters' service, wisely
Portioned by the father, here
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Far from idle-bruited babblings,
'Neath my wing to dwell!
Enter DANAUS, attended by an Argive guard.
Daughters! if so the Olympian gods deserve
Your sacrifices, your libations, surely
Argos no less may claim them! Argos truly
Your Saviour in worst need! With eager ears
They drank my tale, indignant the foul deeds
Of our fell-purposed cousinship they heard,
And for my guard this goodly band they set me
Of strong spear-bearing men, lest being slain
By the lurking lance of some insidious foe
My death bring shame to Argos. Such high honour,
From hearts where kindness moves the friendly deed,
They heaped the sire withal, that you, the daughters,
In father's stead should own them. For the rest,
To the chaste precepts graven on your heart
That oft I gave, one timely warning add,
That Time, which proveth all, approve your lives
Before this people; for 'gainst the stranger calumny
Flows deftly from the tongue, and cheap traducement
Costs not a thought. I charge ye, therefore, daughters,
Your age being such that turns the eyes of men
To ready gaze, in all ye do, consult
Your father's honour: such ripe bloom as yours
No careless watch demands: so fair a flower
Wild beasts and men, monsters of all degrees,
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Her luscious-dropping fruits the Cyprian hangs
In the general view, and publishes their praise;
That whoso passes, and beholds the pomp
Of shapeliest beauty, feels the charmed dart
That shoots from eye to eye, and vanquished falls
By strong desire. Give, therefore, jealous heed
That our long toils, and ploughing the deep sea
Not fruitless fall; but be your portment such
As breeds no shame to us, nor to our enemies
Laughter. A double lodgment for our use,
One from the state, the other from the king,
Rentless we hold. All things look bright. This only,
Your father's word, remember. More than life
Hold a chaste heart in honour.
CHORUS.
The high Olympians
Grant all thy wish! For us, and our young bloom,
Fear nothing, father: for unless the gods
Have forged new counsels, we ev'n to the end
Will tread the trodden path, and will not bend.
CHORAL HYMN.
STROPHE I.
Semi-chorus I.
—Lift ye the solemn hymn!
High let your pæans brim!
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Gods that in glory reign
High o'er the Argive plain,
High o'er each castled hold,
Where Erasinus old
Winds to the main!
(To the attendant maids.
Semi-chorus II.
—Sing, happy maids, with me!
Loud with responsive glee
Voice ye the strain!
Praise ye the Argive shore,
Praise holy Nile no more,
Wide where his waters roar,
Mixed with the main!
ANTISTROPHE I.
Semi-chorus I.
—Lift ye the solemn hymn!
High let your pæans brim!
Praise in your strain
Torrents that bravely swell
Fresh through each Argive dell,
Broad streams that lazily
Wander, and mazily
Fatten the plain.
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—Sing, sisters, sing with me
Artemis chaste! may she
List to the strain!
Never, O never may
Marriage with fearful sway
Bind me; nor I obey
Hatefullest chain!
STROPHE II.
Semi-chorus I.
—Yet, mighty praise be thine
Cyprian queen divine!
Hera, with thee I join,
Nearest to Jove.
Subtly conceiving all,
Wiseliest weaving all,
Thy will achieving all
Nobly by love!
Semi-chorus II.
—With thee Desire doth go;
Peitho, with suasive flow
Bending the willing foe,
Marches with thee.
Lovely Harmonia
Knows thee; and, smote with awe,
Strong kings obey the law
Whispered by thee.
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Semi-chorus I.
—Yet must I fear the chase,
Sail spread in evil race,
War with a bloody pace
Spurred after me.
Why to this Argive shore
Came they with plashing oar,
If not with sorrow's store
Treasured for me?
Semi-chorus II.
—Comes fated good or ill,
Wait we in patience still;
No power may thwart his will
Jove, mighty Jove.
Laden with sorrow's store
Virgins in days of yore
Praised, when their grief was o'er,
Jove, mighty Jove.
Semi-chorus I.
—Jove, mighty Jove, may he
From wedded force for me
Rescue prepare!
Semi-chorus II.
—Fair fall our maiden lot!
But mighty Jove may not
Yield to thy prayer.
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—Know'st thou what woes may be
Stored yet by Fate for me?
Semi-chorus II.
—Jove and his hidden plan
Sight of the sharpest man
Searcheth in vain;
Thou in thy narrow span
Wisely remain!
Semi-chorus I.
—Wisely my thought may fare
Tell me, O tell me where?
Semi-chorus II.
—'Gainst what the gods ordain
Fret not thy heart in vain!
STROPHE.
Semi-chorus I.
—Save me, thou chief of gods, great Jove,
From violent bonds of hated love,
Even as the Inachian maid of yore
Thy hand set free from labour sore,
What time thou soothed with touch divine
Her weary frame,
And with a friendly force benign
Thy healing came.
ANTISTROPHE.
Semi-chorus II.
—May the woman's cause prevail!
And, when two certain ills assail,
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For the just shall still declare.
Ye mighty gods o'er human fates
Supremely swaying,
On you my prayer, my fortune waits,
Your will obeying.
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