The Seven Plays in English Verse Part 12

Such report against thy life, [_Half-Chorus II._ Whispered words with falsehood rife, Wise Odysseus bringing near Shrewdly gaineth many an ear: Since invention against thee Findeth hearing speedily, Tallying with the moment's birth; And with loudly waxing mirth Heaping insult on thy grief, Each who hears it glories more Than the tongue that told before.

Every slander wins belief Aimed at souls whose worth is chief: Shot at me, or one so small, Such a bolt might harmless fall.

Ever toward the great and high Creepeth climbing jealousy Yet the low without the tall Make at need a tottering wall Let the strong the feeble save And the mean support the brave.

CHORUS Ah! 'twere vain to tune such song 'Mid the nought discerning throng Who are clamouring now 'gainst thee Long and loud, and strengthless we, Mighty chieftain, thou away, To withstand the gathering fray Flocking fowl with carping cry Seem they, lurking from thine eye, Till the royal eagle's poise Overawe the paltry noise Till before thy presence hushed Sudden sink they, mute and crushed.

Did bull slaying Artemis, Zeus' cruel daughter I 1 (Ah, fearful rumour, fountain of my shame!) Prompt thy fond heart to this disastrous slaughter Of the full herd stored in our army's name!

Say, had her blood stained temple[1] missed the kindness Of some vow promised fruit of victory, Foiled of some glorious armour through thy blindness, Or fell some stag ungraced by gift from thee?

Or did stern Ares venge his thankless spear Through this night foray that hath cost thee dear!

For never, if thy heart were not distracted I 2 By stings from Heaven, O child of Telamon, Wouldst thou have bounded leftward, to have acted Thus wildly, spoiling all our host hath won!

Madness might fall some heavenly power forfend it But if Odysseus and the tyrant lords Suggest a forged tale, O rise to end it, Nor fan the fierce flame of their withering words!

Forth from thy tent, and let thine eye confound The brood of Sisyphus[2] that would thee wound!

Too long hast thou been fixed in grim repose, III Heightening the haughty malice of thy foes, That, while thou porest by the sullen sea, Through breezy glades advanceth fearlessly, A mounting blaze with crackling laughter fed From myriad throats; whence pain and sorrow bred Within my bosom are established.

_Enter_ TECMESSA.

TECMESSA. Helpers of Aias' vessel's speed, Erechtheus' earth-derived seed, Sorrows are ours who truly care For the house of Telamon afar.

The dread, the grand, the rugged form Of him we know, Is stricken with a troublous storm; Our Aias' glory droopeth low.

CHORUS. What burden through the darkness fell Where still at eventide 'twas well?

Phrygian Teleutas' daughter, say; Since Aias, foremost in the fray, Disdaining not the spear-won bride, Still holds thee nearest at his side, And thou may'st solve our doubts aright.

TEC. How shall I speak the dreadful word?

How shall ye live when ye have heard?

Madness hath seized our lord by night And blasted him with hopeless blight.

Such horrid victims mightst thou see Huddled beneath yon canopy, Torn by red hands and dyed in blood, Dread offerings to his direful mood.

CH. What news of our fierce lord thy story showeth, 1 Sharp to endure, impossible to fly!

News that on tongues of Danaans hourly groweth, Which Rumour's myriad voices multiply!

Alas! the approaching doom awakes my terror.

The man will die, disgraced in open day, Whose dark dyed steel hath dared through mad brained error The mounted herdmen with their herds to slay.

TEC. O horror! Then 'twas there he found The flock he brought as captives tied, And some he slew upon the ground, And some, side smiting, sundered wide Two white foot rams he backward drew, And bound. Of one he sh.o.r.e and threw The tipmost tongue and head away, The other to an upright stay He tied, and with a harness thong Doubled in hand, gave whizzing blows, Echoing his lashes with a song More dire than mortal fury knows.

CH. Ah! then 'tis time, our heads in mantles hiding, 2 Our feet on some stol'n pathway now to ply, Or with swift oarage o'er the billows gliding, With ordered stroke to make the good s.h.i.+p fly Such threats the Atridae, armed with two fold power, Launch to a.s.sail us. Oh, I sadly fear Stones from fierce hands on us and him will shower, Whose heavy plight no comfort may come near.

TEC. 'Tis changed, his rage, like sudden blast, Without the lightning gleam is past And now that Reason's light returns, New sorrow in his spirit burns.

For when we look on self made woe, In which no hand but ours had part, Thought of such griefs and whence they flow Brings aching misery to the heart.

CH. If he hath ceased to rave, he should do well The account of evil lessens when 'tis past.

TEC. If choice were given you, would you rather choose Hurting your friends, yourself to feel delight, Or share with them in one commingled pain?

CH. The two fold trouble is more terrible.

TEC. Then comes our torment now the fit is o'er.

CH. How mean'st thou by that word? I fail to see.

TEC. He in his rage had rapture of delight And knew not how he grieved us who stood near And saw the madding tempest ruining him.

But now 'tis over and he breathes anew, The counterblast of sorrow shakes his soul, Whilst our affliction vexeth as before, Have we not double for our single woe?

CH. I feel thy reasoning move me, and I fear Some heavenly stroke hath fallen. How else, when the end Of stormy sickness brings no cheering ray?

TEC. Our state is certain. Dream not but 'tis so.

CH. How first began the a.s.sault of misery?

Tell us the trouble, for we share the pain.

TEC. It toucheth you indeed, and ye shall hear All from the first. 'Twas midnight, and the lamp Of eve had died, when, seizing his sharp blade, He sought on some vain errand to creep forth.

I broke in with my word: 'Aias, what now?

Why thus uncalled for salliest thou? No voice Of herald summoned thee. No trumpet blew.

What wouldst thou when the camp is hushed in sleep?'

He with few words well known to women's ears Checked me: 'The silent partner is the best.'

I saw how 'twas and ceased. Forth then he fared Alone--What horror pa.s.sed upon the plain This night, I know not. But he drags within, Tied in a throng, bulls, shepherd dogs, and spoil Of cattle and sheep. Anon he butchers them, Felling or piercing, hacking or tearing wide, Ribs from breast, limb from limb. Others in rage He seized and bound and tortured, brutes for men.

Last, out he rushed before the doors, and there Whirled forth wild language to some shadowy form, Flouting the generals and Laertes' son With torrent laughter and loud triumphing What in his raid he had wreaked to their despite.

Then diving back within--the fitful storm Slowly a.s.suaging left his spirit clear.

And when his eye had lightened through the room c.u.mbered with ruin, smiting on his brow He roared; and, tumbling down amid the wreck Of woolly carnage he himself had made, Sate with clenched hand tight twisted in his hair.

Long stayed he so in silence. Then flashed forth Those frightful words of threatening vehemence, That bade me show him all the night's mishap, And whither he was fallen I, dear my friends, Prevailed on through my fear, told all I knew.

And all at once he raised a bitter cry, Which heretofore I ne'er had heard, for still He made us think such doleful utterance Betokened the dull craven spirit, and still Dumb to shrill wailings, he would only moan With half heard muttering, like an angry bull.

But now, by such dark fortune overpowered, Foodless and dry, amid the quivering heap His steel hath quelled, all quietly he broods; And out of doubt his mind intends some harm: Such words, such groans, burst from him. O my friends.-- Therefore I hastened,--enter and give aid If aught ye can! Men thus forgone will oft Grow milder through the counsel of a friend.

CH. Teleutas' child! we shudder at thy tale That fatal frenzy wastes our hero's soul.

AIAS (_within_). Woe's me, me, me!

TEC. More cause anon! Hear ye not Aias there, How sharp the cry that shrills from him?

AI. Woe! Woe!

CH. Madly it sounds--Or springs it of deep grief For proofs of madness harrowing to his eye?

AI. Boy, boy!

TEC. What means he? Oh, Eurysakes!

He cries on thee. Where art thou? O my heart!

AI. Teucer I call! Where 's Teucer? Will he ne'er Come from the chase, but leave me to my doom?

CH. Not madness now. Disclose him. Let us look.

Haply the sight of us may calm his soul.

TEC. There, then; I open to your view the form Of Aias, and his fortunes as they are. [AIAS _is discovered_

AI. Dear comrades of the deep, whose truth and love I 1 Stand forth alone unbroken in my woe, Behold what gory sea Of storm-lashed agony Doth round and round me flow!

CH. (_to_ TEC.) Too true thy witness: for the fact cries out Wild thoughts were here and Reason's lamp extinct.