No More Learning

" and the maid Trembled anew seeing the trees erect,
Until the Devas of the air, who watched,
Blew light breaths from the south, and both green crowns Crashed in the sand, clean-felled.
Then brought they steeds, High-mettled, nobly bred, and three times scoured
Around the maidan, but white Kantaka
Left even the fleetest far behind — so swift,
That ere the foam fell from his mouth to earth Twenty spear lengths he flew; but Nanda said,
" We too might win with such as Kantaka :
Bring an unbroken horse, and let men see
Who best can back him. " So the syces brought
A stallion dark as night, led by three chains, Fierce-eyed, with nostrils wide and tossing mane, Unshod, unsaddled, for no rider yet
Had crossed him. Three times each young Sakya Sprang to his mighty back, but the hot steed Furiously reared, and flung them to the plain
In dust and shame : only Ardjuna held
His seat awhile, and, bidding loose the chains,
PRINCE SIDDARTHA'S MARRIAGE.
Lashed the black flank, and shook the bit, and held The proud jaws fast with grasp of master hand,
So that in storms of wrath and rage and fear
The savage stallion circled once the plain Half-tamed ; but sudden turned with naked teeth, Gripped by the foot Ardjuna, tore him down,
And would have slain him, but the grooms ran in Fettering the maddened beast. Then all men cried,
" Let not Siddartha meddle with this Bhut,
"Whose liver is a tempest, and his blood
Red flame ; " but the Prince said, " Let go the chains, Give me his forelock only," which he held
With quiet grasp, and, speaking some low word,
Laid his right palm across the stallion's eyes,
And drew it gently down the angry face,
And all along the neck and panting flanks,
Till men astonished saw the night-black horse
Sink his fierce crest and stand subdued and meek,
As though he knew our Lord and worshiped him.
Nor stirred he while Siddartha mounted, then
Went soberly to touch of knee and rein
Before all eyes, so that the people said,
" Strive no more, for Siddartha is the best. "
And all the suitors answered " He is best ! "
And Suprabuddha, father of the maid,
Said, " It was in our hearts to find thee best,
Being dearest, yet what magic taught thee more
Of manhood 'mid thy rose bowers and thy dreams Than war and chase and world's work bring to these ? But wear, fair Prince, the treasure thou hast won. " Then at a word the lovely Indian girl
Rose from her place above the throng, and took A crown of mogra flowers and lightly drew
The veil of black and gold across her brow, Proud pacing past the youths, until she came To where Siddartha stood in grace divine,
New lighted from the night-dark steed, which bent Its strong neck meekly underneath his arm.
Before the Prince lowly she bowed, and bared
Her face celestial beaming with glad love ;
Then on his neck she hung the fragrant wreath, And on his breast she laid her perfect head,
And stooped to touch his feet with proud glad eyes, Saying, " Dear Prince, behold me, who am thine ! " And all the throng rejoiced, seeing them pass
PRINCE SIDDARTHA'S MARRIAGE.
Hand fast in hand, and heart beating with heart, The veil of black and gold drawn close again.
Long after — when enlightenment was come — They prayed Lord Buddha touching all, and why
She wore this black and gold, and stepped so proud. And the World-honored answered, " Unto me
This was unknown, albeit it seemed half known ;
For while the wheel of birth and death turns round, Past things and thoughts and buried lives come back I now remember, myriad rains ago,
What time I roamed Hiinala's hanging woods,
A tiger, with my striped and hungry kind :
I, who am Buddh, couched in the kusa grass
Gazing with green blinked eyes upon the herds Which pastured near and nearer to their death Round my day lair ; or underneath the stars
I roamed for prey, savage, insatiable,
Sniffing the paths for track of man and deer.
Amid the beasts that were my fellows then,
Met in deep jungle or by reedy jheel,
A tigress, comeliest of the forest, set
The males at war ; her hide was lit with gold, Black-broidered like the veil Yasddhara
Wore for me : hot the strife waxed in that wood With tooth and claw, while underneath a neem
The fair beast watched us bleed, thus fiercely wooed. And I remember, at the end she came
Snarling past this and that torn forest lord
Which I had conquered, and with fawning jaws Licked my quick-heaving flank, and with me went Into the wild with proud steps, amorously.
The wheel of birth and death turns low and high. "
Therefore the maid was given unto the Prince A willing spoil ; and when the stars were good — Mesha, the Red Ram, being Lord of heaven — The marriage feast was kept, as Sakyas use,
The golden gadi set, the carpet spread,
The wedding garlands hung, the arm threads tied, The sweet cake broke, the rice and attar thrown, The two straws floated on the reddened milk, Which, coming close, betokened " love till death " ; The seven steps taken thrice around the fire,
The gifts bestowed on holy men, the alms
And temple offerings made, the mantras sung,
270
LEONIDAS AND THERMOPYL^.
The garments of the bride and bridegroom tied. Then the gray father spake : " Worshipful Prince, She that was ours henceforth is only thine ;
Be good to her, who hath her life in thee. " Wherewith they brought home sweet Yasddhara, With songs and trumpets, to the Prince's arms, And love was all in all.
LEONIDAS AND THERMOPYL^. By HERODOTUS.
(Translated by Canon Rawlinson. )
[For biographical sketch, see page 125. ]
South of Trachis there is a cleft in the mountain range which shuts in the territory of Trachinia ; and the river Asopus, issuing from this cleft, flows for a while along the foot of the hills. Further to the south, another river, called the Phoenix, which has no great body of water, flows from the same hills, and falls into the Asopus. Here is the narrowest place of all, for in this part there is only a causeway wide enough for a single car riage. From the river Phoenix to Thermopylae is a distance of fifteen furlongs. . . . King Xerxes pitched his camp in the re gion of Malis called Trachinia, while on their side the Greeks occupied the straits. These straits the Greeks in general call Thermopylae [the Hot Gates] ; but the natives and those who
dwell in the neighborhood call them Pylae [the Gates]. Here, then, the two armies took their stand; the one master of all the region lying north of Trachis, the other of the country extending southward of that place to the verge of the conti nent.
The Greeks who at this spot awaited the coming of Xerxes were the following : From Sparta, 300 men at arms ; from Arca dia, 1000 Tegeans and Mantineans, 500 of each people; 120 Orchomenians from the Arcadian Orchomenus ; and 1000 from other cities ; from Corinth 400 men ; from Phlius, 200 ; and from Mycenae, 80. Such was the number from the Peloponnese. There were also present from Boeotia 700 Thespians and 400
LEONIDAS AND THERMOPYL^1. 271
Thebans. Besides these troops, the Locrians of Opus and the Phocians had obeyed the call of their countrymen, and sent, the former all the force they had, the latter 1000 men. . . .
The various nations had each captains of their own, under whom they served ; but the one to whom all especially looked up, and who had the command of the entire force, was the Lace daemonian [King] Leonidas. . . . He had come to Thermopylae, accompanied by the 300 men which the law assigned him, whom he had himself chosen from among the citizens, and who were all of them fathers with sons living. [That no family might be extinguished: obviously feeling it to be a forlorn hope. ] On his way he had taken the troops from Thebes, whose number I have already mentioned, and who were under the command of Leontiades, the son of Eurymachus. The reason why he made a point of taking troops from Thebes, and Thebes only, was that the Thebans were strongly suspected of being well inclined to the Medes. Leonidas therefore called on them to come with him to the war, wishing to see whether they would comply with his demand, or openly refuse, and disclaim the Greek alliance.
They, however, though their wishes leant the other way, never theless sent the men.
The force with Leonidas was sent forward by the Spartans in advance of their main body, that the sight of them might en courage the allies to fight, and hinder them from going over to the Medes, as it was likely they might have done had they seen that Sparta was backward. They intended presently, when they had celebrated the Carneian festival, which was what now kept them at home, to leave a garrison in Sparta, and hasten in full force to join the army. The rest of the allies also intended to act similarly ; for it happened that the Olympic festival fell ex actly at this same period. None of them looked to see the con test at Thermopylae decided so speedily; wherefore they were content to send forward a mere advanced guard. Such, accord ingly, were the intentions of the allies.
The Greek forces at Thermopylae, when the Persian army drew near to the entrance of the pass, were seized with fear; and a council was held to consider about a retreat. It was the wish of the Peloponnesians generally that the army should fall back upon the Peloponnese, and there guard the Isthmus. But Leonidas, who saw with what indignation the Phocians and Locrians heard of this plan, gave his voice for remaining where they were, while they sent envoys to the several cities to ask
272 LEONIDAS AND THERMOPYLAE.
for help, since they were too few to make a stand against an army like that of the Medes.
While this debate was going on, Xerxes sent a mounted spy to observe the Greeks, and note how many they were and see what they were doing. He had heard, before he came out of Thessaly, that a few men were assembled at this place, and that at their head were certain Lacedaemonians, under Leonidas, a descendant of Hercules. The horseman rode up to the camp, and looked about him, but did not see the whole army; for such as were on the further side of the wall (which had been rebuilt and was now carefully guarded) it was not possible for him to behold ; but he observed those on the outside, who were encamped in front of the rampart. It chanced that at this time the Lacedaemonians held the outer guard, and were seen by the spy, some of them engaged in gymnastic exercises, others comb ing their long hair. At this the spy greatly marveled ; but he counted their number, and when he had taken accurate note of everything, he rode back quietly ; for no one pursued after him, nor paid any heed to his visit. So he returned, and told Xerxes all that he had seen. Upon this, Xerxes, who had no means of surmising the truth, — namely, that the Spartans were prepar ing to do or die manfully, — but thought it laughable that they should be engaged in such employments, . . . suffered four whole days to go by, expecting that the Greeks would run away. When, however, he found on the fifth that they were not gone, thinking that their firm stand was mere impudence and reck lessness, he grew wroth, and sent against them the Medes and Cissians, with orders to take them alive and bring them into his presence. Then the Medes rushed forward and charged the Greeks, but fell in vast numbers: others, however, took the places of the slain, and would not be beaten off, though they suffered terrible losses. In this way it became clear to all, and especially to the king, that though he had plenty of com batants, he had but very few warriors. The struggle, however, continued during the whole day.
Then the Medes, having met so rough a reception, withdrew from the fight; and their place was taken by the band of Persians under Hydarnes, whom the king called his "Immor tals": they, it was thought, would soon finish the business. But when they joined battle with the Greeks, 'twas with no better success than the Median detachment : things went much as before, — the two armies fighting in a narrow space, and the
LEONIDAS AND THERMOPYL^I. 273
barbarians using shorter spears than the Greeks, and having no advantage from their numbers. The Lacedaemonians fought in a way worthy of note, and showed themselves far more skillful in fight than their adversaries, often turning their backs, and making as though they were all flying away, on which the barbarians would rush after them with much noise and shout ing, when the Spartans at their approach would wheel round and face their pursuers, in this way destroying vast numbers of the enemy. Some Spartans likewise fell in these encounters, but only a very few. At last the Persians, finding that all their efforts to gain the pass availed nothing, and that, whether they attacked by divisions or in any other way, it was to no purpose, withdrew to their own quarters. During these assaults it is said that Xerxes, who was watching the battle, thrice leaped from the throne on which he sate, in terror for his army.
Next day the combat was renewed, but with no better success on the part of the barbarians. The Greeks were so few that the barbarians hoped to find them disabled, by reason of their wounds, from offering any further resistance ; and so they once more attacked them. But the Greeks were drawn up in de tachments according to their cities, and bore the brunt of the battle in turns — all except the Phocians, who had been stationed on the mountain to guard the pathway. So, when the Persians found no difference between that day and the pre ceding, they again retired to their quarters.
Now, as the king was in a great strait, and knew not how he should deal with the emergency, Ephialtes, the son of EurydS- mus, a man of Malis, came to him and was admitted to a con ference. Stirred by the hope of receiving a rich reward at the king's hands, he had come to tell him of the pathway which led across the mountain to Thermopylae. . . . The Persians took this path, and, crossing the Asopus, continued their march through the whole of the night, having the mountains of GSta on their right hand, and on their left those of Trachis. At dawn of day they found themselves close to the summit. Now the hill was guarded, as I have already said, by a thousand Phocian men at arms, who were placed there to defend the pathway, and at the same time to secure their own country. They had been given the guard of the mountain path, while the other Greeks defended the pass below, because they had volun teered for the service, and had pledged themselves to Leonidas to maintain the post.
VOL. III. — 18
274 LEONIDAS AND THERMOPYLAE.
The ascent of the Persians became known to the Phocians in the following manner: During all the time that they were making their way up, the Greeks remained unconscious of it, inasmuch as the whole mountain was covered with groves of oak ; but it happened that the air was very still, and the leaves which the Persians stirred with their feet made, as it was likely they would, a loud rustling, whereupon the Phocians jumped up and flew to seize their arms. In a moment the barbarians came in sight, and, perceiving men arming themselves, were greatly amazed; for they had fallen in with an enemy when they expected no opposition. Hydarnes, alarmed at the sight, and fearing lest the Phocians might be Lacedaemonians, in quired of Ephialtes to what nation those troops belonged. Ephialtes told him the exact truth, whereupon he arrayed his Persians for battle. The Phocians, galled by the showers of arrows to which they were exposed, and imagining themselves the special object of the Persian attack, fled hastily to the crest of the mountain, and there made ready to meet death; but while their mistake continued, the Persians, with Ephialtes and Hydarnes, not thinking it worth their while to delay on account of Phocians, passed on and descended the mountain with all possible speed.
The Greeks at Thermopylae received the first warning of the destruction which the dawn would bring on them from the seer Megistias, who read their fate in the victims as he was sacrificing. After this deserters came in, and brought the news that the Persians were marching round by the hills: it was still night when these men arrived. Last of all, the scouts came running down from the heights, and brought in the same accounts, when the day was just beginning to break. Then the Greeks held a council to consider what they should do, and here opinions were divided : some were strong against quitting their post, while others contended to the contrary. So when the council had broken up, part of the troops departed and went their ways homeward to their several states; part, however, resolved to remain, and to stand by Leonidas to the last.
It is said that Leonidas himself sent away the troops who departed, because he tendered their safety, but thought it un seemly that either he or his Spartans should quit the post which they had been especially sent to guard. For my own part, I incline to think that Leonidas gave the order because he per
LEONIDAS AND THERMOPYL. E.
275
ceived the allies to be out of heart and unwilling to encounter the danger to which his own mind was made up. . . .
So the allies, when Leonidas ordered them to retire, obeyed him and forthwith departed. Only the Thespians and the The- bans remained with the Spartans; and of these the Thebans were kept back by Leonidas as hostages, very much against their will. The Thespians, on the contrary, stayed entirely of their own accord, refusing to retreat, and declaring that they would not forsake Leonidas and his followers. So they abode with the Spartans, and died with them. Their leader was Demophilus, the son of Diadromes.
At sunrise Xerxes made libations, after which he waited until the time when the forum is wont to fill, and then began his advance. Ephialtes had instructed him thus, as the descent of the mountain is much quicker, and the distance much shorter, than the way round the hills, and the ascent. So the barbarians under Xerxes began to draw nigh ; and the Greeks under Leoni das, as they now went forth determined to die, advanced much further than on previous days, until they reached the more open portion of the pass. Hitherto they had held their station within the wall, and from this had gone forth to fight at the point where the pass was the narrowest. Now they joined battle beyond the defile, and carried slaughter among the barbarians, who fell in heaps. Behind them the captains of the squadrons, armed with whips, urged their men forward with continual blows. Many were thrust into the sea, and there perished ; a still greater number were trampled to death by their own sol diers ; no one heeded the dying. For the Greeks, reckless of their own safety and desperate, since they knew that, as the mountain had been crossed, their destruction was nigh at hand, exerted themselves with the most furious valor against the barbarians.
By this time the spears of the greater number were all shiv ered, and with their swords they hewed down the ranks of the Persians ; and here, as they strove, Leonidas fell fighting bravely, together with many other famous Spartans, whose names I have taken care to learn on account of their great worthiness, as in deed I have those of all the three hundred. There fell, too, at the same time very many famous Persians : among them, two sons of Darius, Abrocomes and Hyperanthes, his children by Phratagune, the daughter of Artanes. Artanes was brother of King Darius, being a son of Hystaspes, the son of Arsames ; and
276 LEONIDAS AND THERMOPYLAE.
when he gave his daughter to the king, he made him heir like wise of all his substance ; for she was his only child.
Thus two brothers of Xerxes here fought and fell. And now there arose a fierce struggle between the Persians and the Lacedaemonians over the body of Leonidas, in which the Greeks four times drove back the enemy, and at last by their great bravery succeeded in bearing on* the body. This combat was scarcely ended when the Persians with Ephialtes approached; and the Greeks, informed that they drew nigh, made a change in the manner of their fighting. Drawing back into the narrow est part of the pass, and retreating even behind the cross wall, they posted themselves upon a hillock, where they stood all drawn up together in one close body, except only the Thebans. The hillock whereof I speak is at the entrance of the straits, where the stone lion stands which was set up in honor of Leoni das. Here they defended themselves to the last, such as still had swords using them, and the others resisting with their hands and teeth ; till the barbarians, who in part had pulled down the wall and attacked them in front, in part had gone round and now encircled them upon every side, overwhelmed and buried the remnant which was left beneath showers of missile weapons.
[Two Spartans were absent, sick or messengers; one of them flew to the battle and perished, the other on returning home was boy
cotted as a coward. ]
Another of the three hundred is likewise said to have sur vived the battle, a man named Pantites, whom Leonidas had sent on an embassy into Thessaly. He, they say, on hi6 return to Sparta, found himself in such disesteem that he hanged him self.
Xerxes proceeded to pass through the slain ; and finding the body of Leonidas, whom he knew to have been the Lacedaemo nian king and captain, he ordered that the head should be struck off, and the trunk fastened to a cross. This proves to me most clearly what is plain also in many other ways, namely, that King Xerxes was more angry with Leonidas, while he was still in life, than with any other mortal. Certes, he would not else have used his body so shamefully. For the Persians are wont to honor those who show themselves valiant in fight more highly than any nation that I know. They, however, to whom the orders were given, did according to the commands of the King.
-ESCHYLUS' AGAMEMNON.
AGAMEMNON AND CLYTEMNESTRA. By jESCHTLUS : version of EDWARD FITZGERALD.
[vEachtLus : the earliest and greatest of the Greek tragic dramatists ; born at Eleusis, in Attica, b. c. 525. He fought at the battles of Marathon, Salamis, and Plataea. He held the supremacy in drama till defeated by his junior Sophocles, when he retired in disgust to Gela in Sicily (b. c. 459), and died there a few years later. Of his seventy tragedies there are extant only seven : "The Persians," "Seven against Thebes," "The Suppliants," "Prometheus Bound," and the famous Orestean trilogy, consisting of "Agamemnon," "The Choephoroi," and " The Eumenides. "
Edward Fitzgerald, English poet, was born in Suffolk in 1809, and graduated at Trinity College, Cambridge, in 1830. He was a man of independ ent fortune, who spent his literary life mainly in making versions of Oriental and South-European literature, and of the Greek classics, largely new work based on the nominal originals. They include the quatrains of Omar Khayyam, . /Eschylus's "Agamemnon," Sophocles's "CEdipus," Calderon's "Vida es Suefio" and "El Magico Prodigioso," Attar's "Bird Parliament," and others. He died in 1883. ]
Clytemnestra receives Agamemnon on his Return from the Sack of Troy, with Priam's Daughter Cassandra a Prisoner.
Clytemnestra —
Down from the chariot thou standest in,
Crowned with the naming towers of Troy, descend, And to this palace, rich indeed with thee,
But beggar-poor without, return ! And ye,
My women, carpet all the way before,
From the triumphal carriage to the door, With all the gold and purple in the chest
Stored these ten years ; and to what purpose stored,
Unless to strew the footsteps of their Lord Returning to his unexpected rest !
Agamemnon —
Daughter of Leda, Mistress of my house,
Beware lest loving Welcome of your Lord, Measuring itself by its protracted absence,
Exceed the bound of rightful compliment,
And better left to other lips than yours.
Address me not, address me not, I say
With dust-adoring adulation, meeter
For some barbarian Despot from his slave ;
Nor with invidious Purple strew my way,
Fit only for the footstep of a God
Lighting from Heaven to earth. Let whoso will
278
&SCHYLUS' AGAMEMNON.
Trample their glories underfoot, not I. Woman, I charge you, honor me no more Than as the man I am ; if honor-worth, Needing no other trapping but the fame
Of the good deed I clothe myself withal ; And knowing that, of all their gifts to man, No greater gift than Self-sobriety
The Gods vouchsafe him in the race of life : "Which, after thus far running, if I reach The goal in peace, it shall be well for me.
Glytemnestra —
Why, how think you old Priam would have walked Had he returned to Troy your conqueror,
As you to Hellas his ?
Agamemnon — What then ? Perhaps Voluptuary Asiatic-like,
On gold and purple.
Clytemnestra — Well, and grudging this, When all that out before your footsteps flows
Ebbs back into the treasury again ;
Think how much more, had Fate the tables turned, Irrevocably from those coffers gone,
For those barbarian feet to walk upon,
To buy your ransom back !
Agamemnon — ' Enough, enough !
I know my reason.
Clytemnestra — What! the jealous God ?
Or, peradventure, yet more envious man ? Agamemnon —
And that of no small moment.
Clytemnestra — No ; the one
Sure proof of having won what others would. Agamemnon — —
No matter Strife but ill becomes a woman. Clytemnestra —
And frank submission to her simple wish
How well becomes the Soldier in his strength ! Agamemnon —
And I must then submit ?
Clytemnestra — Ay, Agamemnon,
Deny me not this first Desire on this
First Morning of your long-desired Return. Agamemnon —
But not till I have put these sandals off, That, slavelike, too officiously would pander
-ESCHYLUS' AGAMEMNON. 279
Between the purple and my dainty feet.
For fear, for fear indeed, some Jealous eye
From heaven above, or earth below, should strike The Man who walks the earth Immortal-like.
So much for that. For this same royal maid, Cassandra, daughter of King Priamus,
Whom, as the flower of all the spoil of Troy,
The host of Hellas dedicates to me ;
Entreat her gently ; knowing well that none
But submit hardly to a foreign yoke ;
And those of Royal blood most hardly brook. That if I sin thus trampling underfoot
A woof in which the Heavens themselves are dyed, The jealous God may less resent his crime,
Who mingles human mercy with his pride. Clytemnestra —
The Sea there is, and shall the sea be dried ?
Fount inexhaustibler of purple grain
Than all the wardrobes of the world could drain ;
And Earth there is, whose dusky closets hide The precious metal wherewith not in vain
The Gods themselves this Royal house provide ; For what occasion worthier, or more meet,
Than now to carpet the victorious feet
Of Him who, thus far having done their will, Shall now their last About-to-be fulfill ?
[Agamemnon descends from his chariot, and goes vnth Clt- temnestba into the house, Cassandra remaining.
Chorus.
About the nations runs a saw,
That Over-good ill fortune breeds ; And true that, by the mortal law,
Fortune her spoilt children feeds
To surfeit, such as sows the seeds Of Insolence, that, as it grows,
The flower of Self-repentance blows. And true that Virtue often leaves
The marble walls and roofs of kings, And underneath the poor man's eaves
On smoky rafter folds her wings.
Thus the famous city, flown
With insolence, and overgrown,
Is humbled : all her splendor blown
280 . ESCHYLUS' AGAMEMNON.
To smoke : her glory laid in dust ;
Who shall say by doom unjust ?
But should He to whom the wrong
Was done, and Zeus himself made strong To do the vengeance He decreed —
At last returning with the meed
He wrought for — should the jealous Eye That blights full-blown prosperity
Pursue him — then indeed, indeed, Man should hoot and scare aloof Good fortune lighting on the roof ; Yea, even Virtue's self forsake
If Glory followed in the wake ; Seeing bravest, best, and wisest
But the playthings of a day, Which a shadow can trip over, And a breath can puff away.
Clytemnestra [reentering] — —
Yet for a moment let me look on her
This, then, is Priam's daughter —
Cassandra, and a Prophetess, whom Zeus
Has given into my hands to minister
Among my slaves. Didst thou prophesy that ? Well — some more famous have so fallen before — Even Heracles, the son of Zeus, they say
Was sold, and bowed his shoulder to the yoke. Chorus —
And, if needs must a captive, better far
Of some old house that affluent Time himself Has taught the measure of prosperity,
Than drunk with sudden superfluity.
Clytemnestra —
Even so. You hear ? Therefore at once descend From that triumphal chariot — And yet
She keeps her station still, her laurel on, Disdaining to make answer.
Chorus — Nay, perhaps, Like some stray swallow blown across the seas, Interpreting no twitter but her own.
Clytemnestra —
But, if barbarian, still interpreting The universal language of the hand.
Chorus —
Which yet again she does not seem to see, Staring before her with wide-open eyes
As in a trance.
^SCHYLUS' AGAMEMNON. 281
Clytemnestra — Ay, ay, a prophetess — Phoebus Apollo's minion once — Whose now? A time will come for her. See you to it :
A greater business now is on my hands : For lo ! the fire of Sacrifice is lit,
And the grand victim by the altar stands.
Chorus —
Hark!
Chorus [continuing].
Still a muttered and half-blind Superstition haunts mankind,
That, by some divine decree Yet by mortal undivined, Mortal Fortune must not over-
Leap the bound he cannot see ; For that even wisest labor
Lofty-building, builds to fall, Evermore a jealous neighbor
Undermining floor and wall. So that on the smoothest water
Sailing, in a cloudless sky,
The wary merchant overboard
Flings something of his precious hoard
To pacify the jealous eye,
That will not suffer man to swell Over human measure. Well,
As the Gods have ordered we
Must take — I know not —let it be. But, by rule of retribution,
If she fall, shall fall to rise: And the hand of Zeus dispenses Even measure in the main :
One short harvest recompenses With a glut of. golden grain;
So but men in patience wait Fortune's counter revolution
Axled on eternal Fate ;
And the Sisters three that twine, Cut not short the vital line ;
For indeed the purple seed
Of life once shed —
The lips at last unlocking.
Cassandra — Phoebus Apollo !
[Exit Clytemnestra.
Hidden, too, from human eyes, Fortune in her revolution,
282 iESCHYLUS' AGAMEMNON.
Cassandra — Phoebus! Phoebus! Chorus —
Well, what of Phoebus, maiden ? though a name 'Tis but disparagement to call upon
In misery.
Cassandra — Apollo! Apollo! Again! Oh, the burning arrow through the brain !
— Phoebus Apollo !
Apollo !
— Seemingly-
Phoebus! Phoebus! Thorough trampled ashes, blood, and fiery rain,
Over water seething, and behind the breathing Warhorse in the darkness — till you rose again — Took the helm — took the rein —
Chorus —
As one that half asleep at dawn recalls A night of Horror !
And with whom,
I can answer that —
Down to what slaughterhouse ?
Foh ! the smell of carnage through the door Scares me from it — drags me toward it — Phoebus ! Apollo ! Apollo !
Chorus
Possessed indeed
—
whether by
Cassandra —
Cassandra —
Hither, whither, Phoebus ? Leading me, lighting me —
Chorus — Cassandra —
Chorus —
One of the dismal prophet pack, it seems,
That hunt the trail of blood. But here at fault — This is no den of slaughter, but the house
Of Agamemnon.
Cassandra — Down upon the towers — Phantoms of two mangled Children hover
and a famished
man,
At an empty table glaring, seizes and devours !
Chorus —
Thyestes and his children ! Strange enough For any maiden from abroad to know,
Or, knowing —
Cassandra — And look! in the chamber below The terrible Woman, listening, watching,
Under a mask, preparing the blow
In the fold of her robe —
Chorus — Nay, but again at fault :
^SCHYLUS' AGAMEMNON.
For in the tragic story of this House — Unless, indeed, the fatal Helen —
No woman —
Chorus — Peace, mad woman, peace ! Whose stony lips once open vomit out
Such uncouth horrors.
283
Cassandra — — No Woman — Tisiphone!
Of Tartarus love-grinning Woman above, Dragon-tailed under — honey-ton gued, Harpy-clawed, Into the glittering meshes of slaughter
She wheedles, entices, him into the poisonous
Fold of the serpent —
Cassandra — I tell you the lioness
Slaughters the Lion asleep ; and lifting
Her blood-dripping fangs buried deep in his mane,
Glaring about her insatiable, bellowing,
Bounds hither — Phoebus, Apollo, Apollo, Apollo !
Whither have you led me, under night alive with fire, Through the trampled ashes of the city of my sire,
From my slaughtered kinsmen, fallen throne, insulted shrine, Slavelike to be butchered, the daughter of a Royal line ?
Daughter
Chorus —
And so returning, like a nightingale Returning to the passionate note of woe By which the silence first was broken !
Cassandra — Oh,
A nightingale, a nightingale, indeed,
That, as she "Itys ! Itys ! Itys ! " so
I " Helen ! Helen ! Helen ! " having sung
Amid my people, now to those who flung
And trampled on the nest, and slew the young,
Keep crying " Blood ! blood ! blood ! " and none will heed 1 Now what for me is this prophetic weed,
And what for me is this immortal crown,
Who like a wild swan from Scamander's reed Chanting her death song float Cocytus-down ? There let the fatal Leaves to perish lie !
To perish, or enrich some other brow
With that all-fatal gift of Prophecy
They palpitated under Him who now,
Checking his flaming chariot in mid sky,
With divine irony sees disadorn
The wretch his love has made the people's scorn, The raving quean, the mountebank, the scold, Who, wrapt up in the ruin she foretold
284
^SCHYLUS' AGAMEMNON.
With those who would not listen, now descends
To that dark kingdom where his empire ends. Chorus —
Strange that Apollo should the laurel wreath
Of Prophecy he crowned your head withal Himself disgrace. But something have we heard Of some divine revenge for slighted love.
Cassandra —
Ay — and as if in malice to attest
With one expiring beam of Second-sight Wherewith his victim he has cursed and blest,
Ere quenched forever in descending night ;
As from behind a veil no longer peeps
The Bride of Truth, nor from their hidden deeps Darkle the waves of Prophecy, but run
Clear from the very fountain of the Sun.
Ye called — and rightly called — me bloodhound: ye That like old lagging dogs in self-despite
Must follow up the scent with me ; with me,
Who having smelt the blood about this house Already spilt, now bark of more to be.
For, though you hear them not, the infernal Choir Whose dread antiphony forswears the lyre,
Who now are chanting of that grim carouse
Of blood with which the children fed their Sire,
Shall never from their dreadful chorus stop
Till all be counter-pledged to the last drop.
Chorus —
Hinting at what indeed has long been done, And widely spoken, no Apollo needs ;
And for what else you aim at — still in dark And mystic language —
Cassandra — Nay, then, in the speech, She that reproved me was so glib to teach — Before yon Sun a hand's breadth in the skies
He moves in shall have moved, those age-sick eyes Shall open wide on Agamemnon slain
Before your very feet. Now, speak I plain ? Chorus —
Blasphemer, hush ! Cassandra —
Ay, hush the mouth you may, Murder! But the Gods —
But not the murder. Chorus — — Cassandra
The Gods !
Who even now are their accomplices.
iESCHYLUS' AGAMEMNON. 285
Cliorus —Woman ! — Accomplices — With whom ? —
Cassandra — With Her,
Who brandishing aloft the ax of doom, That just has laid one victim at her feet,
Looks round her for that other, without whom The banquet of revenge were incomplete.
Yet ere I fall will I prelude the strain
Of Triumph, that in full I shall repeat
When, looking from the twilight Underland,
I welcome Her as she descends amain,
Gashed like myself, but by a dearer hand.
For that old murdered Lion with me slain,
Rolling an awful eyeball through the gloom
He stalks about of Hades up to Day,
Shall rouse the whelp of exile far away,
His only authentic offspring, ere the grim
Wolf crept between his Lioness and him ;
Who with one stroke of Retribution, her
Who did the deed, and her adulterer,
Shall drive to hell ; and then, himself pursued
By the winged Furies of his Mother's blood,
Shall drag about the yoke of Madness, till
Released, when Nemesis has gorged her fill,
By that same God, in whose prophetic ray
Viewing To-morrow mirrored as To-day,
And that this House of Atreus the same wine Themselves must drink they brewed for me and mine ; I close my lips forever with one prayer,
That the dark Warder of the World below
Would ope the portal at a single blow.
Cliorus.
And the raving voice, that rose
Out of silence into speech
Overshooting human reach, Back to silence foams and blows,
Leaving all my bosom heaving — Wrath and raving all, one knows; Prophet-seeming, but if ever
Of the Prophet God possest,
By the Prophet's self-confest God-abandoned —woman's shrill Anguish into tempest rising, Louder as less listened.
Still —
286
iESCHYLUS' AGAMEMNON.
Spite of Reason, spite of Will, What unwelcome, what unholy, Vapor of Foreboding, slowly Rising from the central soul's Recesses, all in darkness rolls ? What ! shall Age's torpid ashes Kindle at the ransom spark
Of a raving maiden ? — Hark !
What was that behind the wall ?
Aheavy blow —a groan—a fall—
Some one crying — Listen further — Hark again then, crying " Murder ! "
Some one — who then ? Agamemnon ? Agamemnon ? — Hark again !
Murder ! murder ! murder ! murder !
Help within there ! Help without there ! Break the doors in ! —
Clytemnestra [appearing from within, where lies Agamemnon
dead] —
Spare your pain. I who but just now before you all
Look !
Boasted of loyal wedlock unashamed,
Now unashamed dare boast the contrary.
Why, how else should one compass the defeat
Of him who underhand contrives one's own,
Unless by such a snare of circumstance
As, once enmeshed, he never should break through ? The blow now struck was not the random blow
Of sudden passion, but with slow device
Prepared, and leveled with the hand of time.
I who did ;
And now stand here to face the consequence.
I say it who devised it ;
Ay, in a deadlier web than of that loom
In whose blood-purple he divined a doom,
And feared to walk upon, but walked at last, Entangling him inextricably fast,
I smote him, and he bellowed ; and again
I smote, and with a groan his knees gave way ; And, as he fell before me, with a third
And last libation from the deadly mace
I pledged the crowning draught to Hades due, That subterranean Savior — of the Dead!
At which he spouted up the Ghost in such
A burst of purple as, bespattered with,
No less did I rejoice than the green ear
iESCHYLUS' AGAMEMNON.
Kejoices in the largess of the skies
That fleeting Iris follows as it flies. Chorus —
Oh, woman, woman, woman !
By what accursed root or weed
Of Earth, or Sea, or Hell, inflamed, Darest stand before us unashamed
And, daring do, dare glory in the deed !
Clytemnestra —
Oh, that I dreamed the fall of Troy, as you
Belike of Troy's destroyer. Dream or not,
Here lies your King — my Husband — Agamemnon, Slain by this right hand's righteous handicraft.
Like you, or like it not, alike to me ;
To me alike whether or not you share
In making due libation over this
Great Sacrifice — if ever due, from him
Who, having charged so deep a bowl of blood, Himself is forced to drink it to the dregs.
Chorus —
Woman, what blood but that of Troy, which Zeus Foredoomed for expiation by his hand
For whom the penalty was pledged ? And now, Over his murdered body, Thou
Talk of libation ! — Thou ! Thou ! Thou !
But mark ! Not thine of sacred wine
Over his head, but ours on thine
Of curse, and groan, and torn-up stone,
To slay or storm thee from the gate,
The City's curse, the People's hate,
Execrate, exterminate —
Clytemnestra —
Ay, ay, to me how lightly you adjudge
Exile or death, and never had a word
Of counter condemnation for Him there ;
Who, when the field throve with the proper flock For Sacrifice, forsooth let be the beast,
And with his own hand his own innocent
Blood, and the darling passion of my womb — Her slew — to lull a peevish wind of Thrace.
And him who cursed the city with that crime You hail with acclamation ; but on me,
Who only do the work you should have done, You turn the ax of condemnation. Well ; Threaten you me, I take the challenge up ;
288
J2SCHYLUS' AGAMEMNON.
Here stand we face to face ; win Thou the game, And take the stake you aim at ; but if I— Then, by the Godhead that for me decides, Another lesson you shall learn, though late.
Chorus —
Man-mettled evermore, and now Manslaughter-maddened ! Shameless brow ! But do you think us deaf and blind
Chorus —
Woe, woe, woe, woe ! That death as sudden as the blow
That laid Thee low would me lay low Where low thou liest, my sovereign Lord ! Who ten years long to Trojan sword Devoted, and to storm aboard,
In one ill woman's cause accurst, Liest slain before thy palace door
By one accursedest and worst !
Not to know, and long ago,
What Passion under all the prate
Of holy justice made thee hate — Where Love was due, and love where
Avenging Fury of my slaughtered child,
I swear I will not reign the slave of fear
While he that holds me, as I hold him, dear,
Kindles his fire upon this hearth : my fast
Shield for the time to come, as of the past.
Yonder lies he that in the honeyed arms
Of his ChryseideB under Troy walls
Dishonored mine : and this last laureled wench, Prophetic messmate of the rower's bench,
Thus far in triumph his, with him along
Shall go, together chanting one death song
To Hades — fitting garnish for the feast
Which Fate's avenging hand through mine hath drest
Clytemnestra —
Nay, then, hear ! By this dead Husband, and the reconciled
Clytemnestra —
Call not on Death, old man, that, called or no,
Comes quick ; nor spend your ebbing breath on me,
Nor Helena : who but as arrows be Shot by the hidden hand behind the bow.
Chorus — Alas, alas ! The Curse I know
That round the House of Atreus clings,
About the roof, about the walls, Shrouds it with his sable wings ;
^SCHYLUS' AGAMEMNON.
And still as each new victim falls, And gorged with kingly gore,
Down on the bleeding carcass flings, And croaks for " More, more, more ! "
Clytemnestra —
Ay, now, indeed, you harp on likelier strings. Not I, nor Helen, but that terrible
Alastor of old Tantalus in Hell;
Who, one sole actor in the scene begun
By him, and carried down from sire to son,
The mask of Victim and Avenger shifts : And, for a last catastrophe, that grim
Guest of the abominable banquet lifts His head from Hell, and in my person cries For one full-grown sufficient sacrifice,
Requital of the feast prepared for him
Of his own flesh and blood — And there it lies.
Chorus —
O Agamemnon ! O my Lord ! Who, after ten years toiled ;
After barbarian lance and sword Encountered, fought, and foiled ;
Returning with the just award Of Glory, thus inglorious by Thine own domestic Altar die,
Fast in the spider meshes coiled
Of Treason most abhorred !
Clytemnestra —
And by what retribution more complete,
Than, having in the meshes of deceit
Enticed my child, and slain her like a fawn Upon the altar ; to that altar drawn
Himself, like an unconscious beast, full-fed With Conquest, and the garland on his head,
Is slain ? and now, gone down among the Ghost, Of taken Troy indeed may make the most,
But not one unrequited murder boast.
What hand, what pious hand shall wash the wound Through which the sacred spirit ebbed and fled !
With reverend care composed, and to the ground Commit the mangled form of Majesty,
And pour the due libation o'er the mound ! Clytemnestra —
This hand, that struck the guilty life away, VOL. III. — 19
Cliorus —
Oh, Agamemnon, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead !
290
Chorus
. ESCHYLUS' AGAMEMNON.
The guiltless carcass in the dust shall lay
With due solemnities : and if with no
Mock tears, or howling counterfeit of woe,
On this side earth ; perhaps the innocent thing, Whom with paternal love he sent before, Meeting him by the melancholy shore,
Her arms about him with a kiss shall fling, — And lead him to his shadowy throne below.
Alas ! alas ! the fatal rent
Which through the house of Atreus went, Gapes again ; a purple rain
Sweats the marble floor, and falls
From the tottering roof and walls,
The Demon heaving under ; gone
The master prop they rested on :
And the storm once more awake
Of Nemesis ; of Nemesis Whose fury who shall slake !
Clytemnestra — Even I
Chorus
; who by this last grand victim hope The Pyramid of Vengeance so to cope,
That — and methinks I hear him in the deep
Beneath us growling toward his rest — the stern
Alastor to some other roof may turn, Leaving us here at last in peace to keep
—What of life's harvest yet remains to reap. Thou to talk of reaping Peace
Who sowest Murder ! Woman,
And, despite that iron face —
Iron as the bloody mace
Thou bearest — boasting as if Vengeance
Centered in that hand alone ;
Know that, Fury pledged to Fury, Vengeance owes himself the debts
He makes, and while he serves thee, whets His knife upon another stone,
Against thyself, and him with thee Colleaguing, as you boast to be,
The tools of Fate. But Fate is Zeus ;
Zeus — who for a while permitting
Sin to prosper in his name,
Shall vindicate his own abuse ;
And having brought his secret thought To light, shall break and fling to shame The baser tools with which he wrought.
cease !
^SCHYLUS' AGAMEMNON.
^Egisthus —
All hail, thou daybreak of my just revenge !
In which, as waking from injurious sleep, Methinks I recognize the Gods enthroned
In the bright conclave of eternal Justice, Revindicate the wrongs of man to man !
For see this man —so dear to me now dead — Caught in the very meshes of the snare
By which his father Atreus netted mine.
For that same Atreus surely, was it not ?
Who, wrought by false Suspicion to fixed Hate, From Argos out his younger brother drove,
My sire — Thyestes — drove him like a wolf, Keeping his cubs — save one — to better purpose. For when at last the home-heartbroken man
Crept humbly back again, craving no more
Of his own country than to breathe its air
In liberty, and of her fruits as much
As not to starve withal — the savage King,
With damnable alacrity of hate,
And reconciliation of revenge, —
Bade him, all smiles, to supper such a supper, Where the prime dainty was — my brother's flesh, So maimed and dipt of human likelihood,
That the unsuspecting Father, light of heart,
And quick of appetite, at once fell to,
And ate — ate — what, with savage irony
As soon as eaten, told — the wretched man Disgorging with a shriek, down to the ground
The table with its curst utensil dashed,
And, grinding into pieces with his heel,
Cried, loud enough for Heaven and Hell to hear,
" Thus perish all the race of Pleisthenes ! "
And now behold ! the son of that same Atreus
By me the son of that Thyestes slain
Whom the kind brother, sparing from the cook, Had with his victim packed to banishment ;
Where Nemesis — (so sinners from some nook, Whence least they think assailable, assailed) — Reared me from infancy till fully grown,
To claim in full my father's bloody due.
Ay, I it was — none other — far away
Who spun the thread, which gathering day by day Mesh after mesh, inch upon inch, at last
Reached him, and wound about him, as he lay,
292
JSSCHYLUS' AGAMEMNON.
And in the supper of his smoking Troy Devoured his own destruction — scarce condign Return for that his Father forced on mine.
Chorus —
jEgisthus, only things of haser breed
Insult the fallen ; fallen too, as you boast,
By one who planned but dared not do the deed. This is your hour of triumph. But take heed ; The blood of Atreus is not all outrun
With this slain King, but flowing in a son, Who saved by such an exile as your own
For such a counter retribution —
^Egisthus — Oh,
You then, the nether benches of the realm, Dare open tongue on those who rule the helm ? Take heed yourselves ; for, old and dull of wit, And hardened as your mouth against the bit, Be wise in time ; kick not against the spurs ; Remembering Princes are shrewd taskmasters.
Chorus — Beware thyself, bewaring me ; Remembering that, too sharply stirred,
The spurrer need beware the spurred j As thou of me ; whose single word Shall rouse the City — yea, the very
Stones you walk upon, in thunder Gathering o'er your head, to bury
Thee and thine Adultress under ! JEgisthus — Raven, that with croaking jaws
Unorphean, undivine, After you no City draws ;
And if any vengeance, mine — Chorus — Upon your withered shoulders
Who daring not to strike the blow
Thine !
Thy worse than woman craft designed, —To worse than woman —
uiEgisthus — Soldiers, ho ! Clytemnestra
Softly, good JSgisthus, softly ; let the sword that has so deep
Drunk of righteous Retribution now within the scabbard sleep !
And if Nemesis be sated with the blood already spilt, Even so let us, nor carry lawful Justice into Guilt Sheathe your sword; dismiss your spears; and you, Old
men, your howling cease,
FATE'S ACCOMPLISHMENT.
293
And, ere ill blood come to running, each unto his home in peace, Recognizing what is done for done indeed, as done it is,
And husbanding your soanty breath to pray that nothing more amiss. Farewell. Meanwhile, you and I, jEgisthus, shall deliberate,
When the storm is blowing under, how to settle House and State.
FATE'S ACCOMPLISHMENT. By RICHARD GARNETT.
(From " Iphigenia in Delphi. ")
[Richakd Garnett, C. B. , LL. D. , English poet and man of letters, was born at Lichfield, England, in 1836 ; son and namesake of the Assistant Keeper of Printed Books in the British Museum. He was himself in its service from 1851 to 1899, latterly as Keeper of Printed Books.