The Seven Plays in English Verse Part 38

Such fame will follow us in all the world.

Living or dying, still to be renowned.

Ah, then, comply, dear sister; give thy sire This toil--this labour to thy brother give; End these my sufferings, end thine own regret: The well-born cannot bear to live in shame.

CH. In such affairs, for those who speak and hear Wise thoughtfulness is still the best ally.

CHR. True, n.o.ble women, and before she spake Sound thought should have prevented the rash talk That now hath proved her reckless. What wild aim Beckons thee forth in arming this design Whereto thou wouldst demand my ministry?

Dost not perceive, thou art not man but woman, Of strength inferior to thine enemies,-- Their Genius daily prospering more and more, Whilst ours is dwindling into nothingness?

Who then that plots against a life so strong Shall quit him of the danger without harm?

Take heed we do not add to our distress Should some one hear of this our colloquy.

Small help and poor advantage 'twere for us To win brief praise and then inglorious die.

Nay, death is not so hateful as when one Desiring death is balked of that desire.

And I beseech thee, ere in utter ruin We perish and make desolate our race, Refrain thy rage. And I will guard for thee In silence these thy words unrealized; If thou wilt learn this wisdom from long time, Having no strength, to bend before the strong.

CH. Comply. Than prudence and a heedful mind, No fairer treasure can be found for men.

EL. Thy words have not surprised me. Well I knew The good I offered would come back with scorn.

I, all alone and with a single hand, Must do this. For it shall not rest undone.

CHR. Would thou hadst been thus minded when our sire Lay dying! In one act thou hadst compa.s.sed all.

EL. My spirit was the same: my mind was less.

CHR. Be such the life-long temper of thy mind!

EL. Thine admonition augurs little aid.

CHR. Yea. For the attempt would bring me certain bane.

EL. I envy thee thy prudence, hate thy fear.

CHR. Even when thou speak'st me fair, I will endure it.

EL. Take heart. That never will be thine from me.

CHR. Long time remains to settle that account.

EL. I find no profit in thee. Go thy way.

CHR. Profit there is, hadst thou a mind to learn.

EL. Go to thy mother and declare all this!

CHR. I am not so in hatred of thy life.

EL. Yet know the shame thou wouldst prepare for me.

CHR. No, no! Not shame, but care for thine estate.

EL. Must I still follow as thou thinkest good?

CHR. When thou hast wisdom, thou shalt be the guide.

EL. 'Tis hard when error wears the garb of sense.

CHR. Right. That is the misfortune of your case.

EL. Why? Feel you not the justice of my speech?

CHR. Justice may chance to bring me injury.

EL. I care not, I, to live by such a rule.

CHR. Well, if you do it, you will find me wise.

EL. Well, I will do it, nought dismayed by thee.

CHR. Speak you plain sooth? and will you not be counselled?

EL. No, for bad counsel is of all most hateful.

CHR. You take the sense of nothing that I say.

EL. Long since, not newly, my resolve is firm.

CHR. Then I will go. Thy heart will ne'er be brought To praise my words, nor I thine action here.

EL. Then go within! I will not follow thee, Though thou desire it vehemently. None Would be so fond to hunt on a cold trail.

CHR. If this seem wisdom to thee, then be wise Thy way: but in the hour of misery, When it hath caught thee, thou wilt praise my words.

[_Exit_ CHRYSOTHEMIS

CHORUS.

Wise are the birds of air I 1 That with true filial care For those provide convenient food Who gave them birth, who wrought their good.

Why will not men the like perfection prove?

Else, by the fires above, And heavenly Rect.i.tude, Fierce recompense they shall not long elude.

O darkling rumour, world-o'er-wandering voice That piercest to the shades beneath the ground, To dead Atrides waft a sound Of sad reproach, not bidding him rejoice.

Stained is the ancestral hall, I 2 Broken the battle-call, That heretofore his children twain In loving concord did sustain.

Alone, deserted, vexed, Electra sails, Storm-tossed with rugged gales, Lamenting evermore Like piteous Philomel, and pining sore For her lost father;--might she but bring down That two-fold Fury, caring not for death, But ready to resign her breath, What maid so worthy of a sire's renown?

None who inherit from a n.o.ble race, II 1 Complying with things base Will let their ancient glory be defiled.

So 'twas thy choice, dear child, Through homeless misery[9] to win a two-fold prize, Purging the sin and shame[10]

That cloud the Argive name, So to be called most n.o.ble and most wise.

May'st thou surpa.s.s thy foes in wealth and power II 2 As o'er thee now they tower!

Since I have found thee, not in bright estate, Nor blessed by wayward fate, But through thy loyalty to Heaven's eternal cause Wearing the stainless crown Of perfectest renown, And richly dowered by the mightiest laws.

_Enter_ ORESTES _and_ PYLADES, _with the urn_.