The Seven Plays in English Verse Part 9

Come, leader of the starry quire II 2 Quick-panting with their breath of fire!

Lord of high voices of the night, Child born to him who dwells in light, Appear with those who, joying in their madness, Honour the sole dispenser of their gladness, Thyiads of the Aegean main Night-long trooping in thy train.

_Enter_ Messenger.

MESS. Neighbours of Cadmus and Amphion's halls, No life of mortal, howsoe'er it stand, Shall once have praise or censure from my mouth; Since human happiness and human woe Come even as fickle Fortune smiles or lours; And none can augur aught from what we see.

Creon erewhile to me was enviable, Who saved our Thebe from her enemies; Then, vested with supreme authority, Ruled her aright; and flourish'd in his home With n.o.blest progeny. What hath he now?

Nothing. For when a man is lost to joy, I count him not to live, but reckon him A living corse. Riches belike are his, Great riches and the appearance of a King; But if no gladness come to him, all else Is shadow of a vapour, weighed with joy.

CH. What new affliction heaped on sovereignty Com'st thou to tell?

MESS. They are dead; and they that live Are guilty of the death.

CH. The slayer, who?

And who the slain? Declare.

MESS. Haemon is dead, And by a desperate hand.

CH. His own, or Creon's?

MESS. By his own hand, impelled with violent wrath At Creon for the murder of the maid.

CH. Ah, Seer! how surely didst thou aim thy word!

MESS. So stands the matter. Make of it what ye list.

CH. See, from the palace cometh close to us Creon's unhappy wife, Eurydice.

Is it by chance, or heard she of her son?

_Enter_ EURYDICE.

EURYDICE. Ye men of Thebes, the tidings met mine ear As I was coming forth to visit Pallas With prayerful salutation. I was loosening The bar of the closed gate, when the sharp sound Of mine own sorrow smote against my heart, And I fell back astonied on my maids And fainted. But the tale? tell me once more; I am no novice in adversity.

MESS. Dear lady, I will tell thee what I saw, And hide no grain of truth: why should I soothe Thy spirit with soft tales, when the harsh fact Must prove me a liar? Truth is always best.

I duly led the footsteps of thy lord To the highest point of the plain, where still was lying, Forlorn and mangled by the dogs, the corse Of Polynices. We besought Persephone And Pluto gently to restrain their wrath, And wash'd him pure and clean, and then we burned The poor remains with brushwood freshly pulled, And heaped a lofty mound of his own earth Above him. Then we turned us to the vault, The maiden's stony bride-chamber of death.

And from afar, round the unhallowed cell, One heard a voice of wailing loud and long, And went and told his lord: who coming near Was haunted by the dim and bitter cry, And suddenly exclaiming on his fate Said lamentably, 'My prophetic heart Divined aright. I am going, of all ways That e'er I went, the unhappiest to-day.

My son's voice smites me. Go, my men, approach With speed, and, where the stones are torn away, Press through the pa.s.sage to that door of death, Look hard, and tell me, if I hear aright The voice of Haemon, or the G.o.ds deceive me.'

Thus urged by our despairing lord, we made Th' espial. And in the farthest nook of the vault We saw the maiden hanging by the neck With noose of finest tissue firmly tied, And clinging to her on his knees the boy, Lamenting o'er his ruined nuptial-rite, Consummated in death, his father's crime And his lost love. And when the father saw him, With loud and dreadful clamour bursting in He went to him and called him piteously: 'What deed is this, unhappy youth? What thought O'ermaster'd thee? Where did the force of woe O'erturn thy reason? O come forth, my son, I beg thee!' But with savage eyes the youth Glared scowling at him, and without a word Plucked forth his two-edged blade. The father then Fled and escaped: but the unhappy boy, Wroth with himself, even where he stood, leant heavily Upon his sword and plunged it in his side.-- And while the sense remained, his slackening arm Enfolded still the maiden, and his breath, Gaspingly drawn and panted forth with pain, Cast ruddy drops upon her pallid face; Then lay in death upon the dead, at last Joined to his bride in Hades' dismal hall:-- A monument unto mankind, that rashness Is the worst evil of this mortal state. [_Exit_ EURYDICE

CH. What augur ye from this? The queen is gone Without word spoken either good or bad.

MESS. I, too, am struck with dread. But hope consoles me, That having heard the affliction of her son, Her pride forbids to publish her lament Before the town, but to her maids within She will prescribe to mourn the loss of the house.

She is too tried in judgement to do ill.

CH. I cannot tell. The extreme of silence, too, Is dangerous, no less than much vain noise.

MESS. Well, we may learn, if there be aught unseen Suppressed within her grief-distempered soul, By going within the palace. Ye say well: There is a danger, even in too much silence.

CH. Ah! look where sadly comes our lord the King, Bearing upon his arm a monument-- If we may speak it--of no foreign woe, But of his own infirmity the fruit.

_Enter_ CREON _with the body of_ HAEMON.

CR. O error of my insensate soul, I 1 Stubborn, and deadly in the fateful end!

O ye who now behold Slayer and slain of the same kindred blood!

O bitter consequence of seeming-wise decree!

Alas, my son!

Strange to the world wert thou, and strange the fate That took thee off, that slew thee; woe is me!

Not for thy rashness, but my folly. Ah me!

CH. Alas for him who sees the right too late!

CR. Alas!

I have learnt it now. But then upon my head Some G.o.d had smitten with dire weight of doom; And plunged me in a furious course, woe is me!

Discomforting and trampling on my joy.

Woe! for the bitterness of mortal pain!

_Enter_ 2nd Messenger.

2ND MESS. My lord and master. Thou art master here Of nought but sorrows. One within thine arms Thou bear'st with thee, and in thy palace hall Thou hast possession of another grief, Which soon thou shalt behold.

CR. What more of woe, Or what more woeful, sounds anew from thee?

2ND MESS. The honoured mother of that corse, thy queen, Is dead, and bleeding with a new-given wound.

CR. O horrible! O charnel gulf I 2 Of death on death, not to be done away, Why harrowest thou my soul?

Ill boding harbinger of woe, what word Have thy lips uttered? Oh, thou hast killed me again, Before undone!

What say'st? What were thy tidings? Woe is me!

Saidst thou a slaughtered queen in yonder hall Lay in her blood, crowning the pile of ruin?

CH. No longer hidden in the house. Behold!

[_The Corpse of_ EURYDICE _is disclosed_

CR. Alas!

Again I see a new, a second woe.

What more calamitous stroke of Destiny Awaits me still? But now mine arms enfold My child, and lo! yon corse before my face!

Ah! hapless, hapless mother, hapless son!

2ND MESS. She with keen knife before the altar place[8]

Closed her dark orbs; but first lamented loud The glorious bed of buried Megareus[9], And then of Haemon; lastly clamoured forth The curse of murdered offspring upon thee.

CR. Ay me! Ay me! II 1 I am rapt with terror. Is there none to strike me With doubly sharpened blade a mortal blow?

Ah! I am plunged in fathomless distress.

2ND MESS. The guilt of this and of the former grief By this dead lady was denounced on thee.

CR. Tell us, how ended she her life in blood?

2ND MESS. Wounding herself to the heart, when she had heard The loud lamented death of Haemon here.

CR. O me! This crime can come On no man else, exempting me.