The Seven Plays in English Verse Part 60

CH. Our captain's here.

Whate'er he saith to thee, that we too speak.

NEO. My chief will call me weakling, soft of heart; But go not yet, since our friend bids you stay.

Till we have prayed, and all be ready on board.

Meanwhile, perchance, he may conceive some thought That favours our design. We two will start; And ye, be swift to speed forth at our call. [_Exit_

MONODY.

PHI. O cavern of the hollow rock, I 1 Frosty and stifling in the seasons' change!

How I seem fated never more to range From thy sad covert, that hath felt the shock Of pain on pain, steeped with my wretchedness.

Now thou wilt be my comforter in death!

Grief haunted harbour, choked with my distress!

Tell me, what hope is mine of daily food, Who will be careful for my good?

I fail. Ye cowering creatures of the sky, Oh, as ye fly, s.n.a.t.c.h me, borne upward on the blast's sharp breath!

CH. 1. Thou child of misery!

No mightier power hath this decreed, But thine own will and deed Hath bound thee thus in grief, Since, when kind Heaven had sent relief And shown the path of wisdom firm and sure, Thou still hast chosen this evil to endure.

PHI. O hapless life, sore bruised with pain! I 2 No more with living mortal may I dwell, But ever pining in this desert cell With lonely grief, all famished must remain And perish; for what food is mine to share, When this strong arm no longer wields my bow, Whose fleet shafts flew to smite the birds of air I was o'erthrown by words, words dark and blind, Low-creeping from a traitorous mind!

O might I see him, whose unrighteous thought This ruin wrought, Plagued for no less a period with like woe!

CH. 2. Not by our craft thou art caught, But Destiny divine hath wrought The net that holds thee bound.

Aim not at us the sound Of thy dread curse with dire disaster fraught.

On others let that light! 'Tis our true care Thou should'st not scorn our love in thy despair.

PHI. Now, seated by the sh.o.r.e II 1 Of heaving ocean h.o.a.r, He mocks me, waving high The sole support of my precarious being, The bow which none e'er held but I.

O treasure of my heart, torn from this hand, That loved thy touch,--if thou canst understand, How sad must be thy look in seeing Thy master destined now no more, Like Heracles of yore, To wield thee with an archer's might!

But in the grasp of an all-scheming wight, O bitter change! thou art plied; And swaying ever by his side, Shalt view his life of dark malignity, Teeming with guileful shames, like those he wrought on me.

CH. 3. n.o.bly to speak for the right Is manly and strong; But not with an envious blight To envenom the tongue; He to serve all his friends of the fleet, One obeying a many-voiced word, Through the minist'ring craft of our lord Hath but done what was meet.

PHI. Come, legions of the wild, II 2 Of aspect fierce or mild, Fowl from the fields of air, And beasts that roam with bright untroubled gaze, No longer bounding from my lair Fly mine approach! Now freely without fear Ye may surround my covert and come near, Treading the savage rock-strewn ways.

The might I had is no more mine, Stolen with those arms divine.

This fort hath no man to defend.

Come satisfy your vengeful jaws, and rend These quivering tainted limbs!

Already hovering death bedims My fainting sense. Who thus can live on air, Tasting no gift of earth that breathing mortals share?

CH. 4. Ah! do not shrink from thy friend, If love thou reverest, But know 'tis for thee to forfend The fate which thou fearest.

The lot thou hast here to deplore, Is sad evermore to maintain, And hards.h.i.+p in sickness is sore, But sorest in pain.

PHI. Kindest of all that e'er before III Have trod this sh.o.r.e, Again thou mind'st me of mine ancient woe!

Why wilt thou ruin me? What wouldst thou do?

CH. 5. How mean'st thou?

PHI. If to Troy, of me abhorred Thou e'er hast hoped to lead me with thy lord.

CH. 6. So I judge best.

PHI. Begone at once, begone!

CH. 7. Sweet is that word, and swiftly shall be done!

Let us be gone, each to his place on board.

[The Chorus _make as if they were going_

PHI. Nay, by dear Zeus, to whom all suppliants moan Leave me not yet!

CH. 8. Keep measure in thy word.

PHI. Stay, by Heaven, stay!

CH. 9. What wilt thou say?

PHI. O misery! O cruel power That rul'st this hour!

I am destroyed. Ah me!

O poor torn limb, what shall I do with thee Through all my days to be?

Ah, strangers, come, return, return!

CH. 10. What new command are we to learn Crossing thy former mind?

PHI. Ah! yet be kind.

Reprove not him, whose tongue, with grief distraught, Obeys not, in dark storms, the helm of thought!

CH. 11. Come, poor friend, the way we call.

PHI. Never, learn it once for all!

Not though he, whom Heaven obeys, Blast me with fierce lightning's blaze!

Perish Troy, and all your host, That have chosen, to their cost, To despise and cast me forth, Since my wound obscured my worth!

Ah, but, strangers, if your sense Hath o'er-mastered this offence, Yield but one thing to my prayer!

CH. 12. What wouldst thou have?

PHI. Some weapon bare, Axe or sword or sharpened dart, Bring it to content my heart.

CH. 13. What is thy new intent?

PHI. To sever point by point This body, joint from joint.

On b.l.o.o.d.y death my mind is bent.

CH. 14. Wherefore?

PHI. To see my father's face.

CH. 15. Where upon earth?

PHI. He hath no place Where sun doth s.h.i.+ne, but in the halls of night.

O native country, land of my delight, Would I were blest one moment with thy sight!

Why did I leave thy sacred dew And loose my vessels from thy sh.o.r.e, To join the hateful Danaan crew And lend them succour? Oh, I am no more!