The Seven Plays in English Verse Part 15

MESS. Alas!

Too tardy then was he who sped me hither; Or I have proved too slow a messenger.

CH. What point is lacking for thine errand's speed?

MESS. Teucer was resolute the man should bide Close held within-doors till himself should come.

CH. Why, sure his going took the happiest turn And wisest, to propitiate Heaven's high wrath.

MESS. The height of folly lives in such discourse, If Calchas have the wisdom of a seer.

CH. What knowest thou of our state? What saith he? Tell.

MESS. I can tell only what I heard and saw.

Whilst all the chieftains and the Atridae twain Were seated in a ring, Calchas alone Rose up and left them, and in Teucer's palm Laid his right hand full friendly; then out-spake With strict injunction by all means i' the world To keep beneath yon covert this one day Your hero, and not suffer him to rove, If he would see him any more alive.

For through this present light--and ne'er again--- Holy Athena, so he said, will drive him Before her anger. Such calamitous woe Strikes down the unprofitable growth that mounts Beyond his measure and provokes the sky.

'Thus ever,' said the prophet, 'must he fall Who in man's mould hath thoughts beyond a man.

And Aias, ere he left his father's door, Made foolish answer to his prudent sire.

'My son,' said Telamon, 'choose victory Always, but victory with an aid from Heaven.'

How loftily, how madly, he replied!

'Father, with heavenly help men nothing worth May win success. But I am confident Without the G.o.ds to pluck this glory down.'

So huge the boast he vaunted! And again When holy Pallas urged him with her voice To hurl his deadly spear against the foe, He turned on her with speech of awful sound: 'G.o.ddess, by other Greeks take thou thy stand; Where I keep rank, the battle ne'er shall break.'

Such words of pride beyond the mortal scope Have won him Pallas' wrath, unlovely meed.

But yet, perchance, so be it he live to-day, We, with Heaven's succour, may restore his peace.'-- Thus far the prophet, when immediately Teucer dispatched me, ere the a.s.sembly rose, Bearing to thee this missive to be kept With all thy care. But if my speed be lost, And Calchas' word have power, the man is dead.

CH. O trouble-tost Tecmessa, born to woe, Come forth and see what messenger is here!

This news bites near the bone, a death to joy.

_Enter_ TECMESSA.

TEC. Wherefore again, when sorrow's cruel storm Was just abating, break ye my repose?

CH. (_pointing to the_ Messenger).

Hear what he saith, and how he comes to bring News of our Aias that hath torn my heart.

TEC. Oh me! what is it, man? Am I undone?

MESS. Thy case I know not; but of Aias this, That if he roam abroad, 'tis dangerous.

TEC. He is, indeed, abroad. Oh! tell me quickly!

MESS. 'Tis Teucer's strong command to keep him close Beneath this roof, nor let him range alone.

TEC. But where is Teucer? and what means his word?

MESS. Even now at hand, and eager to make known That Aias, if he thus go forth, must fall.

TEC. Alas! my misery! Whence learned he this?

MESS. From Thestor's prophet-offspring, who to-day Holds forth to Aias choice of life or death.

TEC. Woe's me! O friends, this desolating blow Is falling! Oh, stand forward to prevent!

And some bring Teucer with more haste, while some Explore the western bays and others search Eastward to find your hero's fatal path!

For well I see I am cheated and cast forth From the old favour. Child, what shall I do? [_Looking at_ EURYSAKES We must not stay. I too will fare along, go far as I have power. Come, let us go.

Bestir ye! 'Tis no moment to sit still, If we would save him who now speeds to die.

CH. I am ready. Come! Fidelity of foot, And swift performance, shall approve me true. [_Exeunt omnes_

_The scene changes to a lonely wooded spot._

AIAS (_discovered alone_).

The sacrificer stands prepared,--and when More keen? Let me take time for thinking, too!

This gift of Hector, whom of stranger men I hated most with heart and eyes, is set In hostile Trojan soil, with grinding hone Fresh-pointed, and here planted by my care Thus firm, to give me swift and friendly death.

Fine instrument, so much for thee! Then, first, Thou, for 'tis meet, great Father, lend thine aid.

For no great gift I sue thee. Let some voice Bear Teucer the ill news, that none but he May lift my body, newly fallen in death About my bleeding sword, ere I be spied By some of those who hate me, and be flung To dogs and vultures for an outcast prey.

So far I entreat thee, Lord of Heaven. And thou, Hermes, conductor of the shadowy dead, Speed me to rest, and when with this sharp steel I have cleft a sudden pa.s.sage to my heart, At one swift bound waft me to painless slumber!

But most be ye my helpers, awful Powers, Who know no blandishments, but still perceive All wicked deeds i' the world--strong, swift, and sure, Avenging Furies, understand my wrong, See how my life is ruined, and by whom.

Come, ravin on Achaean flesh--spare none; Rage through the camp!--Last, thou that driv'st thy course Up yon steep Heaven, thou Sun, when thou behold'st My fatherland, checking thy golden rein, Report my fall, and this my fatal end, To my old sire, and the poor soul who tends him.

Ah, hapless one! when she shall hear this word, How she will make the city ring with woe!

'Twere from the business idly to condole.

To work, then, and dispatch. O Death! O Death!

Now come, and welcome! Yet with thee, hereafter, I shall find close communion where I go.

But unto thee, fresh beam of s.h.i.+ning Day, And thee, thou travelling Sun-G.o.d, I may speak Now, and no more for ever. O fair light!

O sacred fields of Salamis my home!

Thou, firm set natal hearth: Athens renowned, And ye her people whom I love; O rivers, Brooks, fountains here--yea, even the Trojan plain I now invoke!--kind fosterers, farewell!

This one last word from Aias peals to you: Henceforth my speech will be with souls unseen. [_Falls on his sword_

CHORUS (_re-entering severally_).

CH. A. Toil upon toil brings toil, And what save trouble have I?

Which path have I not tried?

And never a place arrests me with its tale.

Hark! lo, again a sound!

CH. B. 'Tis we, the comrades of your good s.h.i.+p's crew.

CH. A. Well, sirs?

CH. B. We have trodden all the westward arm o' the bay.

CH. A. Well, have ye found?

CH. B. Troubles enow, but nought to inform our sight.

CH. A. Nor yet along the road that fronts the dawn Is any sign of Aias to be seen.

CH. Who then will tell me, who? What hard sea-liver, 1 What toiling fisher in his sleepless quest, What Mysian nymph, what oozy Thracian river, Hath seen our wanderer of the tameless breast?

Where? tell me where!

'Tis hard that I, far-toiling voyager, Crossed by some evil wind, Cannot the haven find, Nor catch his form that flies me, where? ah! where?