The Seven Plays in English Verse Part 14

TEC. Well, since 'tis so, how can I help thee now?

AI. Give me to speak to him and see him near.

TEC. He stands close by with servants tending him.

AI. Then why doth he not come, but still delay?

TEC. Thy father calls thee, child. Come, lead him hither, Whichever of you holds him by the hand.

AI. Moves he? or do thine accents idly fall?

TEC. See, where thy people bring him to thine eye.

AI. Lift him to me: lift him! He will not fear At sight of this fresh havoc of the sword, If rightly he be fathered of my blood.

Like some young colt he must be trained and taught To run fierce courses with his warrior sire.

Be luckier than thy father, boy! but else Be like him, and thy life will not be low.

One thing even now I envy thee, that none Of all this misery pierces to thy mind.

For life is sweetest in the void of sense, Ere thou know joy or sorrow. But when this Hath found thee, make thy father's enemies Feel the great parent in the valiant child.

Meantime grow on in tender youthfulness, Nursed by light breezes, gladdening this thy mother.

No Greek shall trample thee with brutal harm, That I know well, though I shall not be near-- So stout a warder to protect thy life I leave in Teucer. He'll not fail, though now He follow far the chase upon his foes.

My trusty warriors, people of the sea, Be this your charge, no less,--and bear to him My clear commandment, that he take this boy Home to my fatherland, and make him known To Telamon, and Eriboea too, My mother. Let him tend them in their age.

And, for mine armour, let not that be made The award of Grecian umpires or of him Who ruined me. But thou, named of the s.h.i.+eld[3], Eurysakes, hold mine, the unpierceable Seven-hided buckler, and by the well st.i.tched thong Grasp firm and wield it mightily.--The rest Shall lie where I am buried.--Take him now, Quickly, and close the door. No tears! What! weep Before the tent? How women crave for pity!

Make fast, I say. No wise physician dreams With droning charms to salve a desperate sore.

CH. There sounds a vehement ardour in thy words That likes me not. I fear thy sharpened tongue.

TEC. Aias, my lord, what act is in thy mind?

AI. Inquire not, question not; be wise, thou'rt best.

TEC. How my heart sinks! Oh, by thy child, by Heaven, I pray thee on my knees, forsake us not!

AI. Thou troublest me. What! know'st thou not that Heaven Hath ceased to be my debtor from to-day?

TEC. Hus.h.!.+ Speak not so.

AI. Speak thou to those that hear.

TEC. Will you not hear me?

AI. Canst thou not be still?

TEC. My fears, my fears!

AI. (_to the_ Attendants). Come, shut me in, I say.

TEC. Oh, yet be softened!

AI. 'Tis a foolish hope, If thou deem'st now to mould me to thy will.

[Aias _is withdrawn. Exit_ Tecmessa

CHORUS.

Island of glory! whom the glowing eyes I 1 Of all the wondering world immortalize, Thou, Salamis, art planted evermore, Happy amid the wandering billows' roar; While I--ah, woe the while!--this weary time, By the green wold where flocks from Ida stray, Lie worn with fruitless hours of wasted prime, Hoping--ah, cheerless hope!--to win my way Where Hades' horrid gloom shall hide me from the day.

Aias is with me, yea, but crouching low, I 2 Where Heaven-sent madness haunts his overthrow, Beyond my cure or tendance: woful plight!

Whom thou, erewhile, to head the impetuous fight, Sent'st forth, thy conquering champion. Now he feeds His spirit on lone paths, and on us brings Deep sorrow; and all his former peerless deeds Of prowess fall like unremembered things From Atreus' loveless brood, this caitiff brace of kings.

Ah! when his mother, full of days and bowed II 1 With h.o.a.ry eld, shall hear his ruined mind, How will she mourn aloud!

Not like the warbler of the dale, The bird of piteous wail, But in shrill strains far borne upon the wind, While on the withered breast and thin white hair Falls the resounding blow, the rending of despair.

Best hid in death were he whom madness drives II 2 Remediless; if, through his father's race Born to the n.o.blest place Among the war-worn Greeks, he lives By his own light no more, Self-aliened from the self he knew before.

Oh, hapless sire, what woe thine ear shall wound!

One that of all thy line no life save this hath found.

_Enter_ Aias _with a bright sword, and_ Tecmessa, _severally._

AI. What change will never-terminable Time Not heave to light, what hide not from the day?

What chance shall win men's marvel? Mightiest oaths Fall frustrate, and the steely-tempered will.

Ay, and even mine, that stood so diamond-keen Like iron lately dipped, droops now dis-edged And weakened by this woman, whom to leave A widow with her orphan to my foes, Dulls me with pity. I will go to the baths And meadows near the cliff, and purging there My dark pollution, I will screen my soul From reach of Pallas' grievous wrath. I will find Same place untrodden, and digging of the soil Where none shall see, will bury this my sword, Weapon of hate! for Death and Night to hold Evermore underground. For, since my hand Had this from Hector mine arch-enemy, No kindness have I known from Argive men.

So true that saying of the bygone world, 'A foe's gift is no gift, and brings no good.'

Well, we will learn of Time. Henceforth I'll bow To heavenly ordinance and give homage due To Atreus' sons. Who rules, must be obeyed.

Since nought so fierce and terrible but yields Place to Authority. Wild Winter's snows Make way for bounteous Summer's flowery tread, And Night's sad orb retires for lightsome Day With his white steeds to illumine the glad sky.

The furious storm-blast leaves the groaning sea Gently to rest. Yea, the all-subduer Sleep Frees whom he binds, nor holds enchained for aye.

And shall not men be taught the temperate will?

Yea, for I now know surely that my foe Must be so hated, as being like enough To prove a friend hereafter, and my friend So far shall have mine aid, as one whose love Will not continue ever. Men have found But treacherous harbour in companions.h.i.+p.

Our ending, then, is peaceful. Thou, my girl, Go in and pray the G.o.ds my heart's desire Be all fulfilled. My comrades, join her here, Honouring my wishes; and if Teucer come, Bid him toward us be mindful, kind toward you.

I must go--whither I must go. Do ye But keep my word, and ye may learn, though now Be my dark hour, that all with me is well.

[_Exit towards the country._ Tecmessa _retires_

CHORUS.

A shudder of love thrills through me. Joy! I soar 1 O Pan, wild Pan! [_They dance_ Come from Cyllene h.o.a.r-- Come from the snow drift, the rock-ridge, the glen!

Leaving the mountain bare Fleet through the salt sea-air, Mover of dances to G.o.ds and to men.

Whirl me in Cnossian ways--thrid me the Nysian maze!

Come, while the joy of the dance is my care!

Thou too, Apollo, come Bright from thy Delian home, Bringer of day, Fly o'er the southward main Here in our hearts to reign, Loved to repose there and kindly to stay.

Horror is past. Our eyes have rest from pain. 2 O Lord of Heaven! [_They dance_ Now blithesome day again Purely may smile on our swift-sailing fleet, Since, all his woe forgot, Aias now faileth not Aught that of prayer and Heaven-wors.h.i.+p is meet.

Time bringeth mighty aid--nought but in time doth fade: Nothing shall move me as strange to my thought.

Aias our lord hath now Cleared his wrath-burdened brow Long our despair, Ceased from his angry feud And with mild heart renewed Peace and goodwill to the high-sceptred pair.

_Enter_ Messenger.

MESSENGER. Friends, my first news is Teucer's presence here, Fresh from the Mysian heights; who, as he came Right toward the generals' quarter, was a.s.sailed With outcry from the Argives in a throng: For when they knew his motion from afar They swarmed around him, and with shouts of blame From each side one and all a.s.saulted him As brother to the man who had gone mad And plotted 'gainst the host,--threatening aloud, Spite of his strength, he should be stoned, and die.

--So far strife ran, that swords unscabbarded Crossed blades, till as it mounted to the height Age interposed with counsel, and it fell.

But where is Aias to receive my word?

Tidings are best told to the rightful ear.

CH. Not in the hut, but just gone forth, preparing New plans to suit his newly altered mind.