The Seven Plays in English Verse Part 34

I care not for such honour as thou hast.

Nor wouldst thou care if thou wert wise. But now, Having the n.o.blest of all men for sire, Be called thy mother's offspring; so shall most Discern thine infamy and traitorous mind To thy dead father and thy dearest kin.

CH. No anger, we entreat. Both have said well, If each would learn of other, and so do.

CHR. For my part, women, use hath seasoned me To her discourse. Nor had I spoken of this, Had I not heard a horror coming on That will restrain her from her endless moan.

EL. Come speak it forth, this terror! I will yield, If thou canst tell me worse than I endure.

CHR. I'll tell thee all I know. If thou persist In these thy wailings, they will send thee far From thine own land, and close thee from the day, Where in a rock-hewn chamber thou may'st chant Thine evil orisons in darkness drear.

Think of it, while there 's leisure to reflect; Or if thou suffer, henceforth blame me not.

EL. And have they so determined on my life?

CHR. 'Tis certain; when Aegisthus comes again.

EL. If that be all, let him return with speed!

CHR. Unhappy! why this curse upon thyself?

EL. If this be their intent, why, let him come!

CHR. To work such harm on thee! What thought is this!

EL. Far from mine eye to banish all your brood.

CHR. Art not more tender of the life thou hast?

EL. Fair, to a marvel, is my life, I trow!

CHR. It would be, couldst thou be advised for good.

EL. Never advise me to forsake my kin.

CHR. I do not: only to give place to power.

EL. Thine be such flattery. 'Tis not my way.

CHR. Sure, to be wrecked by rashness is not well.

EL. Let me be wrecked in 'venging my own sire.

CHR. I trust his pardon for my helplessness.

EL. Such talk hath commendation from the vile.

CHR. Wilt thou not listen? Wilt thou ne'er be ruled?

EL. No; not by thee! Let me not sink so low.

CHR. Then I will hie me on mine errand straight.

EL. Stay; whither art bound? For whom to spend those gifts?

CHR. Sent by my mother to my father's tomb To pour libations to him.

EL. How? To him?

Most hostile to her of all souls that are?

CHR. Who perished by her hand--so thou wouldst say.

EL. What friend hath moved her? Who hath cared for this?

CHR. Methinks 'twas some dread vision, seen by night.

EL. G.o.ds of my father, O be with me now!

CHR. What? art thou hopeful from the fear I spake of?

EL. Tell me the dream, and I will answer thee.

CHR. I know but little of it.

EL. Speak but that.

A little word hath ofttimes been the cause Of ruin or salvation unto men.

CHR. 'Tis said she saw our father's spirit come Once more to visit the abodes of light; Then take and firmly plant upon the hearth The sceptre which he bore of old, and now Aegisthus bears: and out of this upsprang A burgeoned shoot, that shadowed all the ground Of loved Mycenae. So I heard the tale Told by a maid who listened when the Queen Made known her vision to the G.o.d of Day.

But more than this I know not, save that I Am sent by her through terror of the dream.

And I beseech thee by the G.o.ds we serve To take my counsel and not rashly fall.

If thou repel me now, the time may come When suffering shall have brought thee to my side.

EL. Now, dear Chrysothemis, of what thou bearest Let nothing touch his tomb. 'Tis impious And criminal to offer to thy sire Rites and libations from a hateful wife.

Then cast them to the winds, or deep in dust Conceal them, where no particle may reach His resting-place: but lie in store for her When she goes underground. Sure, were she not Most hardened of all women that have been, She ne'er had sent those loveless offerings To grace the sepulchre of him she slew.

For think how likely is the buried king To take such present kindly from her hand, Who slew him like an alien enemy, Dishonoured even in death, and mangled him, And wiped the death-stain with his flowing locks-- Sinful purgation! Think you that you bear In those cold gifts atonement for her guilt?

It is not possible. Wherefore let be.

But take a ringlet from thy comely head, And this from mine, that lingers on my brow[3]

Longing to shade his tomb. Ah, give it to him, All I can give, and this my maiden-zone, Not daintily adorned, as once erewhile.

Then, humbly kneeling, pray that from the ground He would arise to help us 'gainst his foes, And grant his son Orestes with high hand Strongly to trample on his enemies; That in our time to come from ampler stores We may endow him, than are ours to-day.

I cannot but imagine that his will Hath part in visiting her sleep with fears.

But howsoe'er, I pray thee, sister mine, Do me this service, and thyself, and him, Dearest of all the world to me and thee, The father of us both, who rests below.

CH. She counsels piously; and thou, dear maid, If thou art wise, wilt do her bidding here.

CHR. Yea, when a thing is right, it is not well Idly to wrangle, but to act with speed.

Only, dear friends, in this mine enterprise, Let me have silence from your lips, I pray; For should my mother know of it, sharp pain Will follow yet my bold adventurous feat. [_Exit_ CHRYSOTHEMIS

CHORUS.

An erring seer am I, I 1 Of sense and wisdom lorn, If this prophetic Power of right, O'ertaking the offender, come not nigh Ere many an hour be born.

Yon vision of the night, That lately breathed into my listening ear, Hath freed me, O my daughter, from all fear.

Sweet was that bodement. He doth not forget, The Achaean lord that gave thee being, nor yet The bronzen-griding axe, edged like a spear, Hungry and keen, though dark with stains of time, That in the hour of hideous crime Quelled him with cruel butchery: That, too, remembers, and shall testify.