The House of Atreus Part 10

O brave endurance of a soul resolved!

Ca.s.sANDRA

That were ill praise, for those of happier doom.

CHORUS

All fame is happy, even famous death.

Ca.s.sANDRA

Ah sire, ah brethren, famous once were ye!

[_She moves to enter the house, then starts back._

CHORUS

What fear is this that scares thee from the house?

Ca.s.sANDRA

Pah!

CHORUS

What is this cry? some dark despair of soul?

Ca.s.sANDRA

Pah! the house fumes with stench and spilth of blood.

CHORUS

How? 'tis the smell of household offerings.

Ca.s.sANDRA

'Tis rank as charnel-scent from open graves.

CHORUS

Thou canst not mean this scented Syrian nard?

Ca.s.sANDRA

Nay, let me pa.s.s within to cry aloud The monarch's fate and mine--enough of life.

Ah friends!

Bear to me witness, since I fall in death, That not as birds that shun the bush and scream I moan in idle terror. This attest When for my death's revenge another dies, A woman for a woman, and a man Falls, for a man ill-wedded to his curse.

Grant me this boon--the last before I die.

CHORUS

Brave to the last! I mourn thy doom foreseen.

Ca.s.sANDRA Once more one utterance, but not of wail, Though for my death--and then I speak no more.

I thou whose beam I shall not see again, To thee I cry, Let those whom vengeance calls To slay their kindred's slayers, quit withal The death of me, the slave, the fenceless prey.

Ah state of mortal man! in time of weal, A line, a shadow! and if ill fate fall, One wet sponge-sweep wipes all our trace away-- And this I deem less piteous, of the twain.

[_Exit into the palace._

CHORUS

Too true it is! our mortal state With bliss is never satiate, And none, before the palace high And stately of prosperity, Cries to us with a voice of fear, _Away! 'tis ill to enter here!_

Lo! this our lord hath trodden down, By grace of heaven, old Priam's town, And praised as G.o.d he stands once more On Argos' sh.o.r.e!

Yet now--if blood shed long ago Cries out that other blood shall flow-- His life-blood, his, to pay again The stern requital of the slain-- Peace to that braggart's vaunting vain, Who, having heard the chieftain's tale, Yet boasts of bliss untouched by bale!

[_A loud cry from within._

VOICE OF AGAMEMNON

O I am sped--a deep, a mortal blow.

CHORUS

Listen, listen! who is screaming as in mortal agony?

VOICE OF AGAMEMNON

O! O! again, another, another blow!

CHORUS

The b.l.o.o.d.y act is over--I have heard the monarch cry-- Let us swiftly take some counsel, lest we too be doomed to die.

ONE OF THE CHORUS

'Tis best, I judge, aloud for aid to call, "Ho! loyal Argives! to the palace, all!"

ANOTHER

Better, I deem, ourselves to bear the aid, And drag the deed to light, while drips the blade.

ANOTHER