Chapter III

Peace is the object of my dear delight:
But thou, O tyrant, thou whose breast
Well may I deem by frenzy is possest,
If ’gainst this city thou exert thy might,
Pant’st after trophies which thou ne’er shalt gain.
Bearing targe and brazen lance
Others with equal arms advance.
O thou, who fondly seek’st th’ embattled plain,
Shake not these turrets, spare the haunt
Of every gentle grace.—Thou wretch, avaunt.

DEMOPHOON, IOLAUS, CHORUS.

IOL. Why com’st thou hither, O my son, with eyes
Expressive of affliction? from the foe
What recent information canst thou give?
Do they delay their march, are they at hand,
Or bring’st thou any tidings? for the threats
That herald uttered sure will be accomplished.
Blest in the favour of the gods, the tyrant
Exults, I know, and arrogantly deems
That he o’er Athens shall prevail; but Jove
Chastises the presumptuous.

DEM. Argos comes
With numerous squadrons, and its king Eurystheus,
Myself beheld him. It behoves the man
Who claims the merit of an able chief,
Not to depend upon his spies alone
To mark the foe’s approach. But with his host
He hath not yet invaded these domains,
But halting on yon mountain’s topmost ridge
Observes (I from conjecture speak) the road
By which he may lead forth his troops to battle,
And where he in this realm with greatest safety
May station them. Already have I made
Each preparation to repel their onset.
The city is in arms, the victims stand
Before the altars, with their blood t’ appease
The wrath of every god, and due lustrations
Are sprinkled by the seers, that o’er our foes
We may obtain a triumph, and preserve
This country. Every prophet who expounds
The oracles, convening, have I searched
Into each sage response of ancient times,
Or public or concealed, on which depends
The welfare of the realm. In all beside
Differ Heaven’s mandates: but one dread behest
Runs through the several auspices, to Ceres
They bid me sacrifice some blooming maid
Who from a nobler sire derives her birth.
Zeal have I shown abundant in your cause,
But will not slay my daughter, nor constrain
Any Athenian citizen to make
Such an abhorred oblation: for the man
Exists not, who is so devoid of reason,
As willingly to yield his children up
With his own hands. But what afflicts me most
Is this: tumultuous crowds appear; some cry,
’Tis just that we the foreign suppliants aid,
But others blame my folly. If no means
Can be devised to satisfy them all,
Soon will a storm of civil war arise.
See thou to this, and think of some expedient,
How ye and how this country may be saved,
Without the citizens’ calumnious tongues
My fame assailing. For I rule not here
With boundless power, like a barbarian king;
Let but my deeds be just, and in return
Shall I experience justice.

CHOR. Will not Jove
Suffer this city to exert its courage,
And aid these hapless strangers as we wish?

IOL. Our situation, O my sons, resembles
That of the mariners, who having ’scaped
The storm’s relentless fury, when in sight
Of land, are from the coast by adverse winds
Driven back into the deep. Thus from this realm
Just as we reach the shore, like shipwrecked men,
Are we expelled. O inauspicious Hope,
Why didst thou soothe me with ideal joy,
Although it was ordained that thou should’st leave
Thy favours incomplete? The king deserves
At least to be excused, if he consent not
To slay his subjects’ daughters; to this city
My praise is due, and if the gods would place me
In the same prosperous fortunes, from my soul
Your benefits should never be effaced.
But now, alas! no counsel can I give
To you, my children. Whither shall we turn?
What god have we neglected? To what land
Have we not fled for shelter? We must perish,
We shall be yielded up. My being doomed
To die, I heed but for this cause alone,
That by my death I shall afford delight
To our perfidious foes. But, O my sons.
For you I weep, I pity you, I pity
Alcmena, aged mother of your sire,
Oh, most unhappy in a life too long!
I too am wretched, who unnumbered toils
Have fruitlessly endured; it was ordained,
It was ordained, alas! that we should fall
Into the hands of our relentless foes,
And meet a shameful, miserable death.
Know you, what still remains for you to do,
On my behalf? For all my hopes of saving
The children are not vanished. In their stead
Me to the Argive host surrender up,
O king, and rush not into needless danger,
Yet save these children. To retain a love
Of life becomes me not; I yield it up
Without regret. It is Eurystheus’ wish
The rather to seize me, and to expose
To infamy, because I was the comrade
Of Hercules; for frenzy hath possessed
His soul. The wise man, e’en in those he hates,
Had rather find discretion than a want
Of understanding; for a foe endued
With sense will pay due reverence to the vanquished.

CHOR. Forbear, old man, thus hastily to blame
This city; for to us though it might prove
More advantageous, yet to our disgrace
Would it redound, should we betray our guests.

DEM. A generous, but impracticable, scheme
Is that thou hast proposed: for Argos’ king
In quest of thee no squadrons hither leads.
What profit to Eurystheus from the death
Of one so old as thou art could arise?
He wants to murder _these_: for to their foes
The rising blossoms of a noble race,
To whom the memory of their father’s wrongs
Is present, must be dreadful: for all this
He cannot but foresee. But if thou know
Of any other counsel more expedient,
Adopt it; for my soul hath been perplexed,
Since that oracular response I heard
Which fills me with unwelcome apprehensions.

[_Exit_ DEMOPHOON.

MACARIA, IOLAUS, CHORUS.

MAC. Deem not that I, O strangers, am too bold
Because I from my chamber venture forth;
This is my first request: for silence, joined
With modesty and a domestic life,
Is woman’s best accomplishment. I heard
Your groans, O Iolaus, and advanced
Though not appointed by our house to act
As their ambassadress; in some degree
Yet am I qualified for such an office,
I have so great an interest in the weal
Of these my brothers; on my own account
I also wish to hear if any ill,
Added to those you have already suffered,
Torture your soul.

IOL. Not now for the first time,
On thee, O daughter, most of all the children
Of Hercules my praise can I bestow:
But our ill-fated house, just as it seemed
Emerging from its past disgraces, sinks
Afresh into inextricable ruin.
The king informs us, that the seers, whose voice
Expounds the will of heaven, have signified
No bull nor heifer, but some blooming maid
Who from a noble sire derives her birth,
Must be the victim, if we would redeem
The city and ourselves from utter ruin;
Here then are we perplexed: for his own children
He says he will not sacrifice, nor those
Of any of his subjects. Though to me
Indeed he speaks not plainly, in some sort
He intimates, that if we by no means
Can extricate ourselves from these distresses,
We must find out some other land to flee to,
For he this realm would from destruction save.

MAC. May we indulge the hope of our escape
Upon these terms?

IOL. These only: in all else
With prosperous fortunes crowned.

MAC. No longer dread
The spear of Argos, for myself, old man,
Am ready, ere they doom me to be slain,
And here stand forth a voluntary victim.
For what could we allege on our behalf,
If Athens condescend to undergo
Dangers so great, while we who have imposed
These toils on others, though within our reach
Lie all the means of being saved, yet shrink
From death? Not thus: we should provoke the laugh
Of universal scorn, if, with loud groans,
We suppliants, at the altars of the gods,
Should take our seats, and prove devoid of courage,
From that illustrious father though we spring.
How can the virtuous reconcile such conduct?
This to our glory would forsooth redound
(O may it never happen!) when this city
Is taken, should we fall into the hands
Of our triumphant foes, when after all
Some noble maid reluctant must be dragged
To Pluto’s loathed embrace. But from these realms
Cast forth, should I become an abject vagrant,
Must I not blush when any one inquires,
“Why came ye hither with your suppliant branches
Too fond of life? Retreat from these domains,
For we no aid to cowards will afford.”
But if when these are dead, my single life
Be saved, I cannot entertain a hope
That I shall e’er be happy: through this motive
Have caused full many to betray their friends.
For who with a deserted maid will join,
Or in the bonds of wedlock, or desire
That I to him a race of sons should bear?
I therefore hold it better far to die,
Than to endure, without deserving them,
Such foul indignities, as can seem light
To her alone, who, from a noble race
Like mine, descends not: to the scene of death
Conduct, with garlands crown me, and prepare
If ye think fit, th’ initiatory rites;
Ye hence the foe shall conquer: for this soul
Shrinks not with mean reluctance. I engage
For these my brothers, and myself, to bleed
A willing victim; for with ease detached
From life, I have imbibed this best of lessons,
To die with firmness in a glorious cause.

CHOR. Alas! what language shall I find, t’ express
My admiration of the lofty speech
I from this virgin hear, who for her brothers
Resolves to die? What tongue can utter words
More truly generous; or what man surpass
Such deeds as these?

IOL. Thou art no spurious child,
But from the godlike seed of Hercules,
O daughter, dost indeed derive thy birth.
Although thy words are such as cannot shame,
Thy fate afflicts me. Yet will I propose
What may with greater justice be performed.
Together call the sisters of this maid,
And to atone for the whole race, let her
On whom th’ impartial lot shall fall, be slain;
But without such decision ’tis not just
That thou should’st die.

MAC. I will not die as chance
The lot dispenses; for I hence should forfeit
All merit: name not such a scheme, old man.
If me ye will accept, and of my zeal
Avail yourselves, I gladly yield up life
Upon these terms, but stoop not to constraint.

IOL. The speech thou now hast uttered soars beyond
What thou at first didst say, though that was noble:
But thou thy former courage dost surpass
By this fresh instance of exalted courage,
The merit of thy former words, by words
More meritorious. Daughter, I command not,
Nor yet oppose thy death: for thou by dying
Wilt serve thy brothers.

MAC. You in cautious terms
Command me: fear not, lest on my account
You should contract pollution: for to die
Is my free choice. But follow me, old man,
For in your arms would I expire: attend,
And o’er my body cast the decent veil:
To dreadful slaughter dauntless I go forth,
Because I from that father spring, whose name
With pride I utter.

IOL. At the hour of death
I cannot stand beside thee.

MAC. Grant but this,
That when I breathe my last, I may be tended
By women, not by men.

IOL. It shall be thus,
O miserable virgin: for in me
’Twere base, if I neglected any rite
That decency enjoins, for many reasons;
Because thy soul is great, because ’tis just,
And of all women I have ever seen,
Because thou art most wretched. But from these
And from thy aged kinsman, if thou wish
For aught, to me thy last behests address.

MAC. Adieu, my venerable friend, adieu!
Instruct these boys in every branch of wisdom,
And make them like yourself, they can attain
No higher pitch; strive to protect them still,
And for their sake that valued life prolong;
Your children we, to you our nurture owe.
Me you behold, mature for bridal joys,
Dying to save them. But may ye, my band
Of brothers who are here, be blest, and gain
All those advantages, which to procure
For you, the falchion shall transpierce my breast.
Revere this good old man, revere Alcmena
Your father’s aged mother, and these strangers.
Should ye be ever rescued from your woes,
Should gracious Heaven permit you to revisit
Your native land, forget not to inter,
With such magnificence as I deserve,
Your benefactress, for I have not proved
Deficient in attention to your welfare,
But die to save our family. To me
These monumental honours shall suffice
Instead of children, or the virgin state,
If there be aught amid the realms beneath,
But ’tis my wish there may not: for if grief
On us frail mortals also there attend,
I know not whither any one can turn:
For by the wise hath death been ever deemed
The most effectual cure for every ill.

IOL. O thou, distinguished by thy lofty soul,
Be well assured thy glory shall outshine
That of all other women; both in life
And death, shalt thou be honoured by thy friends.
But ah, farewell! for with ill-omened words
I tremble lest we should provoke the goddess,
Dread Proserpine, to whom thou now art sacred.

[_Exit_ MACARIA.

My sons I perish: grief unnerves my frame;
Support and place me in the hallowed seat:
And, O my dearest children, o’er my face
Extend this garment: for I am not pleased
With what is done: yet, had not Heaven’s response
Found this completion, we must all have died;
For we must then have suffered greater ills
Than these, which are already most severe.

CHORUS.

ODE.

In just proportion, as the gods ordain,
Is bliss diffused through life’s short span,
Or sorrow portioned out to man:
No favoured house can still maintain
From age to age its prosperous state,
For swift are the vicissitudes of fate,
Who now assails pride’s towering crest,
Now makes the drooping exile blest.
From destiny we cannot fly;
No wisdom can her shafts repel;
But he who vainly dares her power defy
Compassed with endless toils shall dwell.
Ask not from Heaven with impious prayer,
Blessings it cannot grant to man,
Nor waste in misery life’s short span
O’erwhelmed by querulous despair.
The nymph goes forth to meet a noble death,
Her brothers and this land to save,
And fame, with tributary breath
Shall sound her praises in the grave.
For dauntless virtue finds a way
Through labours which her progress would delay.
Such deeds as these, her father grace,
And add fresh splendour to her race,
But if with reverential awe thou shed
Over the virtuous dead
A tear of pity, in that tear I’ll join,
Inspired with sentiments like thine.

SERVANT, IOLAUS, CHORUS.

SER. Ye children, hail! but where is Iolaus,
That aged man; and hath your grandame left
Her seat before the altar?

IOL. Here am I,
If aught my presence can avail.

SER. On earth
Why art thou stretched, what means that downcast look?

IOL. Domestic cares have harrowed up my soul.

SER. Lift up thy head, arise.

IOL. I am grown old,
And all my strength is vanished.

SER. But to thee
I bring most joyful tidings.

IOL. Who art thou?
Where have I seen thee? I remember not.

SER. Hyllus’ attendant, canst thou not distinguish
These features?

IOL. O my friend, art thou arrived
To snatch me from despair?

SER. Most certainly:
Moreover the intelligence I bring
Will make thee happy.

IOL. Thee I call, come forth,
Alcmena, mother of a noble son,
And listen to these acceptable tidings:
Full long thy soul, for those who now approach,
Was torn with grief, lest they should ne’er return.

ALCMENA, SERVANT, IOLAUS, CHORUS.

ALC. Whence with your voice resounds this echoing dome,
O Iolaus, is another herald
From Argos come, who forcibly assails you?
My strength indeed is small, yet be assured
Of this, presumptuous stranger, while I live
Thou shalt not bear them hence. May I no more
Be deemed the mother of that godlike son,
When I submit to this. But if thou dare
To touch the children, with two aged foes
Ignobly wilt thou strive.

IOL. Be of good cheer,
Thou hoary matron, banish these alarms;
No herald with a hostile message comes
From Argos.

ALC. Why then raised you that loud voice,
The harbinger of fear?

IOL. That from the temple
Thou might’st come forth, and join us.

ALC. What you mean
I comprehend not. Who is this?

IOL. He tells us
Thy grandson marches hither.

ALC. Hail, O thou
Who bear’st these welcome tidings? but what brings him
To these domains? Where is he? What affairs
Prevented him from coming hither with thee,
To fill my soul with transport?

SER. He now marshals
The forces which attend him.

ALC. In this conference
Am I no longer then allowed to join?

IOL. Thou art: but ’tis my business to inquire
Into these matters.

SER. Which of his transactions
Say art thou most solicitous to know?

IOL. The number of the troops he leads?

SER. Is great,
I cannot count them.

IOL. The Athenian chiefs
Are sure apprized of this.

SER. They are apprized,
And the left wing is formed.

IOL. Then the whole host
Arrayed in arms is ready for the battle.

SER. The victims to a distance from the ranks
Already are removed.

IOL. But at what distance
Is the encampment of the Argive warriors?

SER. So near that we their leader can distinguish.

IOL. What is he doing; marshalling our foes?

SER. This we conjecture: for I could not hear
His voice: but I must go; for I my lord
Will not abandon when he nobly braves
The dangers of the field.

IOL. I too with thee
Will join him; for the same are our intentions,
As honour bids us, to assist our friends.

SER. Unwisely hast thou spoken.

IOL. With my friends
Shall not I then the stubborn conflict share?

SER. That strength which erst was thine is now no more.

IOL. Can I not pierce their shields?

SER. Thou may’st: but first,
More likely, fall thyself.

IOL. No foe will dare
To meet me face to face.

SER. By thy mere looks,
With that debilitated arm, no wound
Canst thou inflict.

IOL. My presence in the field
Will to our troops give courage, and augment
Their number.

SER. Of small service to thy friends
Will thy appearance prove.

IOL. Detain me not:
I for some glorious action am prepared.

SER. Thou hast the will to act, but not the power.

IOL. I will not be reproached for loitering here,
Say what thou wilt beside.

SER. But without arms
How wilt thou face yon warriors sheathed in mail?

IOL. The various implements of war are lodged
Beneath these roofs; with freedom will I use,
And if I live, return them; if I die,
The god will not demand them back again.
Go then into the temple, and reach down
Those martial trappings from the golden nails
On which they hang, and bring them to me swiftly.
For this were infamous, while some are fighting,
If others loiter slothfully behind.

[_Exit_ SERVANT.

CHOR. Time hath not yet debased that lofty soul
’Tis vigorous, though thy body be decayed.
Why should’st thou enter on these fruitless toils,
Which only injure thee, and to our city
Can be of little service? on thy age
Should’st thou reflect, and lay aside attempts
That are impossible, for by no arts
The long-lost force of youth canst thou regain.

ALC. What schemes are these? distempered in your mind,
Me and my children mean you to abandon?

IOL. The battle is man’s province: to thy care
Them I consign.

ALC. But if you die, what means
Have I of being saved?

IOL. The tender care
Of the surviving children of thy son.

ALC. Should they too meet with some severe mishap,
Which may the gods forbid.

IOL. These generous strangers
Will not betray thee; banish every fear.

ALC. In them I trust: I have no other friend.

IOL. Jove too, I know, is mindful of thy toils.

ALC. I will not speak in disrespectful terms
Of Jove: but whether he his plighted troth
Have kept, full well he knows.

SER. [_returning._] Thou here behold’st
The brazen panoply, now haste to sheathe
Thy limbs in mail; the battle is at hand,
And Mars detests a loiterer: if thou fear
Accoutrements so ponderous, to the field
Advance disarmed, nor till thou join the ranks
Wear these unwieldy trappings; for meantime
I in my hands their burden will sustain.

IOL. Well hast thou spoken; with those arms attend me
Ready for the encounter, place a spear
In my right hand, and under my left arm
Hold me, and guide my steps.

SER. Shall I conduct
A warrior like a child?

IOL. I must tread sure,
Else ’twere an evil omen.

SER. Would thy power
Equalled thy zeal.

IOL. Haste: greatly ’twill afflict me
If, left behind, I cannot join the fray.

SER. Slow are thy steps, and hence thou deem’st I move not.

IOL. Behold’st thou not the swiftness of my pace?

SER. Thou to thyself I see appear’st to hasten,
Although thou gain’st no ground.

IOL. When in the field
Thou seest me, thou wilt own I speak the truth.

SER. What great exploit achieving? I could wish
That thou might’st prove victorious.

IOL. Through his shield
Some foe transfixing.

SER. We at length may reach
Th’ embattled plain, but this I greatly fear.

IOL. Ah, would to heaven, that thou, my withered arm,
Again wert vigorous, as in former days
Thee I remember, when thou didst lay waste
The Spartan realms with Hercules; thus fight
My battles now, and singly will I triumph
Over Eurystheus, for that dastard fears
To face the dangers of th’ embattled field:
Too apt in our ideas to unite
Valour with wealth, yet to the prosperous man
Superior wisdom falsely we ascribe.

[_Exeunt_ IOLAUS _and_ SERVANT.

CHORUS.

ODE.

I. 1.

O fostering Earth, resplendent Moon,
Who gladd’st the dreary shades of night,
And thou, enthroned at broadest noon,
Hyperion, ’midst exhaustless light,
To me propitious tidings bring,
Raise to the skies a festive sound,
And waft the gladsome notes around,
Till, from the palace of our king,
They echo through Minerva’s fane:
My house, my country, to maintain
Against the ruthless spoiler’s pride,
Menaced because this realm extends
Protection to its suppliant friends,
I with the sword our contest will decide.

I. 2.

Although there seem just cause for dread,
When cities like Mycene blest,
Whose triumphs fame hath widely spread
Enter this region to invest
Our bulwarks, harbouring ruthless hate.
Think, O my country, think what shame,
Should we reject the suppliant’s claim
Appalled by Argos’ haughty state.
Resistless Jove shall aid the spear
I brandish unappalled by fear;
The tribute of eternal praise
From all that breathe, to him is due:
Nor magnified by our weak view
Shall men above the gods their trophies raise.

II. 1.

Descend with venerable mien,
O thou our guardian and our queen,
For on thy fostering soil we stand,
These walls were reared by thy command,
Drive from our menaced gates the lawless host,
Suppress that Argive tyrant’s boast;
For if by you unaided, is this hand
Too weak their fury to withstand.

II. 2.

Thee, O Minerva, we adore,
Thy altar ever streams with gore:
We on each moon’s concluding day
To thee our public homage pay;
Through every fane harmonious numbers sound,
Sweet minstrelsy then breathes around,
And th’ echoing hills their nightly dance repeat
As the nymphs move with agile feet.

SERVANT, ALCMENA, CHORUS.

SER. O royal dame, the message that to you
I bring, is both concise, and what reflects
On me abundant glory to relate,
In fight have we prevailed, and trophies reared
On which the armour of your foes is hung.

ALC. This day hath brought thee hither, O my friend,
Thy freedom for such tidings to receive:
But one anxiety there still remains
To which thou leav’st me subject; much I fear
For the important lives of those I love.

SER. They live, and have obtained from all the host
The greatest fame.

ALC. And Iolaus too,
My aged friend?

SER. Yet more, he hath performed
Through the peculiar favour of the gods
Exploits most memorable.

ALC. What glorious deed
Hath he achieved in fight?

SER. From an old man,
He is grown young again.

ALC. Thou speak’st of things
Most wonderful. But first, how fought our friends
With such success, I wish thee to inform me.

SER. All that hath passed, at once will I relate
When, to each other in the field opposed,
We had arranged both armies, and spread forth
The van of battle to its full extent,
Hyllus alighting from his chariot, stood
In the midway ’twixt either host, and cried:
“Thou leader of the Argive troops, who com’st
With hostile fury to invade this land,
Thy interests recommend what I propose,
Nor can Mycene suffer from the loss
If thou deprive her of a single warrior;
Therefore with me encounter hand to hand,
And if thou slay me, seize and bear away
The sons of Hercules; but if thou die,
My palace and hereditary rank
Permit me to enjoy.” The troops assented,
And praised what he had spoken as the means
Of finishing their labours, and a proof
Of his exalted courage. But Eurystheus
Unmoved by reverence for th’ assembled host
Who heard the challenge, and with terror smitten,
Forgot the general’s part, nor dared to face
The lifted spear, but acted like a dastard:
Yet he who was thus destitute of courage
Came to enslave the sons of Hercules.
Hyllus again retreated to his rank;
The prophets too, when they perceived no peace
Could be effected by a single combat,
Without delay the blooming virgin slew,
Auspicious victim, from whose pallid lips
Her trembling spirit fled. The lofty car
Some mounted, o’er their sides while others flung
Their bucklers to protect them. To his host,
Meantime the king of Athens, in a strain
Worthy of his exalted courage, spoke:
“Ye citizens, the land to which ye owe
Your nourishment and birth, now claims your aid.”
Equally loth to sully the renown
Of Argos and Mycene, in like terms
The foe besought his partners of the war
Their utmost vigour to exert. No sooner
Had the loud signal by Etruria’s trump
Been given, than they in thickest battle joined.
Think with what crash their brazen shields resounded,
What groans and intermingled shouts were heard!
First through our lines the host of Argos burst,
And in their turn gave way: then foot to foot,
And man to man opposed, in stubborn conflict
We all persisted: multitudes were slain;
But in this language either chief his troops
Encouraged: “O ye citizens of Athens,
O ye who till the fruitful Argive field,
Will ye not from your native land repel
The foul disgrace?” But with our utmost efforts
Scarce could we put to flight the Argive host.
When Iolaus saw young Hyllus break
The ranks of battle, he with lifted hands
Entreated him to place him in his car,
Then seized the reins, and onward in pursuit
Of the swift coursers of Eurystheus drove.
As to the sequel; from report alone
Let others speak, I tell what I have seen:
While through Pallenè’s streets he passed, where rise
Minerva’s altars, soon as he descried
The chariot of Eurystheus, he a prayer
Addressed to blooming Hebe, and to Jove,
That for that single day he might recover
The pristine vigour of his youth, and punish
His foes as they deserve. You now shall hear
What a miraculous event ensued;
Two stars ’bove Iolaus’ chariot stood,
And overshadowed it with gloomy clouds,
Which, by the wise ’tis said, were Hercules
Your son, and blooming Hebe: from that mist
Which veiled the skies, the chief grown young again,
Displayed his vigorous arms, and near the rocks
Of Scyron, seized Eurystheus in his car.
Binding his hands with chains, he hither brings
The Argive tyrant, a distinguished prize,
Who once was happy; but on all mankind
Loudly inculcates by his present fortunes
This lesson: not too rashly to ascribe
Felicity to him who in appearance
Is prosperous, but to wait till we behold
His close of life; for fortune day by day
Doth waver.

CHOR. Thou great author of success,
O Jove, at length am I allowed to view
The day, by which my terrors are dispelled.

ALC. ’Twas late indeed, when thou, O Jove, didst look
On my afflictions; yet am I to thee
Most grateful for the kindness thou hast shown me.
And though I erst believed not that my son
Dwells with the gods, I clearly know it now.
Now, O my children, ye from all your toils
Shall be set free, and of Eurystheus, doomed
With shame to perish, burst the galling yoke,
Behold your father’s city, the rich fields
Of your inheritance again possess,
And sacrifice to your paternal gods,
From whom excluded, in a foreign land
Ye led a wandering miserable life.
But with what sage design yet undisclosed,
Hath Iolaus spared Eurystheus’ life,
Inform me: for to us it seems unwise
Not to avenge our wrongs when we have caught
Our enemies.

SER. He through respect to you
Hath acted thus, that you might see the tyrant
Vanquished, and rendered subject to your power,
Not by his own consent, but in the yoke
Bound by necessity; for he was loth
To come into your presence, ere he bleed,
And suffer as he merits. But farewell,
O venerable matron, and remember
The promise you first made when I began
These tidings, and, oh, set me free: for nought
But truth should from ingenuous lips proceed.

[_Exit_ SERVANT.

CHORUS.

ODE.

I. 1.

To me the choral song is sweet,
When the shrill flute and genial banquet meet,
If Venus also grace the festive board:
I taste a more refined delight
Now I behold my friends (transporting sight!)
To unexpected happiness restored.
For in this nether world, eventful Fate,
And Saturn’s offspring Time, full many a change create.

I. 2.

Follow the plain and beaten way,
From Justice, O my country, never stray,
Nor cease the powers immortal to revere.
To heights scarce short of frenzy rise
The errors of that mortal, who denies
Assent to truths confirmed by proofs so clear.
Jove’s power by signal judgments is descried,
Oft as his vengeance blasts the towering crest of pride.

II. 1.

In heavenly mansions with the blest,
Thy son, O venerable dame, doth rest;
He hath confuted those invidious tales,
That to loathed Pluto’s house he came
Soon as he perished in that dreadful flame:
He under roofs of burnished gold regales,
On the soft couch of lovely Hebe placed;
Them two, both sprung from Jove, O Hymen, thou hast graced.

II. 2.

Events, which strike man’s wondering eyes,
From a variety of causes rise.
For fame relates how Pallas saved the sire,
And from her city far renowned,
Her race, protection have the children found;
She hath suppressed th’ o’erweening tyrant’s ire,
Whose violence no laws could ere control;
Curse on such boundless pride, that fever of the soul.

MESSENGER, EURYSTHEUS, ALCMENA, CHORUS.

MES. Your eyes indeed behold, O royal dame,
Yet shall this tongue declare that we have brought
Eurystheus hither, unexpected sight,
Reverse of fortune his presumptuous soul
Foresaw not, this oppressor little deemed
That he should ever fall into your hands,
When from Mycene, by the Cyclops’ toil
Erected, he those squadrons led, and hoped
With pride o’erweening to lay Athens waste;
But Heaven our situation hath reversed:
And therefore with exulting Hyllus joins
The valiant Iolaus, in erecting
Trophies to Jove the author of our conquest.
But they to you commanded me to lead
This captive, wishing to delight your soul:
For ’tis most grateful to behold a foe
Fall’n from the height of gay prosperity.

ALC. Com’st thou, detested wretch? at length hath Justice
O’ertaken thee? First hither turn thy head,
And dare to face thine enemies: for, dwindled
Into a vassal, thou no longer rul’st.
Art thou the man (for I would know the truth)
Who didst presume to heap unnumbered wrongs,
Thou author of all mischief, on my son
While yet he lived, wherever now resides
His dauntless spirit? For in what one instance
Didst thou not injure him? At thy command,
Alive he travelled to th’ infernal shades;
Thou sent’st, and didst commission him to slay
Hydras and lions. Various other mischiefs,
Which were by thee contrived, I mention not,
For an attempt to speak of them at large
Would be full tedious. Nor was it enough
For thee to venture on these wrongs alone,
But thou, moreover, from each Grecian state
Me and these children hast expelled, though seated
As suppliants at the altars of the gods,
Confounding those whose locks are grey through age
With tender infants. But thou here hast found
Those who were men indeed, and a free city
Which feared thee not. Thou wretchedly shalt perish,
And pay this bitter usury to atone
For all thy crimes, whose number is so great
That it were just thou more than once shouldst die.

MES. You must not kill him.

ALC. Then have we in vain
Taken him captive. But what law forbids
His being slain?

MES. The rulers of this land
Consent not.

ALC. Is it not by them esteemed
A glorious action to despatch our foes?

MES. Not such as they have seized alive in battle.

ALC. Is Hyllus satisfied with this decree?

MES. He, in my judgment, will forsooth act rightly,
If he oppose what Athens shall enjoin.

ALC. The captive tyrant ill deserves to live,
Or longer view the sun.

MES. In this first instance
They did amiss, when by their swords he died not.

ALC. Is it not just that he should suffer still?

MES. He who will slay him is not to be found.

ALC. What shall I say if some adventurous hand——

MES. If you do this, you will incur great censure.

ALC. I love this city, I confess: but no man,
Since he is fall’n into my power, shall force
This prisoner from me: let them call me bold
And more presumptuous than becomes a woman,
I am resolved to execute my purpose.

MES. Full well I know the hatred which you bear
To this unhappy man is terrible,
And such as merits pardon.

EUR. Be convinced
Of this, O woman, that I cannot flatter,
Nor to preserve this wretched life say aught,
Whence they may brand me with a dastard’s name.
For I with much reluctance undertook
This contest; near in blood am I to thee,
And of that race whence sprung thy son Alcides.
But whether I consented, or was loth,
Me Juno caused by her immortal power
To harbour this dire frenzy in my breast.
Since I became his foe, since I resolved
Upon this strife, much mischief I devised,
And brooded o’er it many a tedious night,
That after I had wearied out and slain
Those I abhorred, I might no longer lead
A life of fear: for well I knew thy son
Was no mere cipher, but a man indeed:
Though strong my hate, on him will I confer
The praise he merits from his valiant deeds.
But after he was dead, was I not forced,
Because I was a foe to these his sons,
And knew what bitter enmity ’gainst me
They from their sire inherited, to leave
No stone unturned, to slay, to banish them,
And plot their ruin? Could I have succeeded
In these designs, my throne had stood secure.
If thou my prosperous station hadst obtained,
Wouldst thou not have attempted to hunt down
The lion’s whelps, instead of suffering them
At Argos unmolested to reside?
Thou canst prevail on no man to give credit
To such assertions: therefore, since my foes
Forbore to slay me, when prepared to lose
My life in battle, by the laws of Greece,
If I now die, my blood will fix a stain
Of lasting guilt on him who murders me.
This city hath discreetly spared my life,
More influenced by its reverence for the gods
Than by the hatred which to me it bears.
My answer to the charges thou hast urged
Against me, having heard, esteem me now
A suppliant, and though wretched, still a king,
For such is my condition: though to die
I wish not, yet can I without regret
Surrender up my life.

CHOR. To you, Alcmena,
A little wholesome counsel would I give,
This captive monarch to release, since such
The pleasure of the city.

ALC. If he die,
And to the mandates of th’ Athenian realm
I still submit, what mischief can ensue?

CHOR. ’Twere best of all. But how can these two things
Be reconciled?

ALC. I will inform you how
This may with ease be done. I, to his friends,
When slain will yield him up, and with this land
Comply in the disposal of his corse:
But he shall die to sate my just revenge.

EUR. Destroy me if thou wilt; to thee I sue not:
But on this city, since it spared my life
Through pious reverence, and forbore to slay me,
Will I bestow an ancient oracle
Of Phœbus, which in future times shall prove
More advantageous than ye now suppose;
For after death, so have the Fates decreed,
My corse shall ye inter before the temple
Of the Pallenian maid: to you a friend
And guardian of your city, shall I rest
Beneath this soil for ever; but a foe
To those who spring from this detested race
When with their armies they invade this land
Requiting with ingratitude your kindness:
Such strangers ye protect. But thus forewarned,
Why came I hither? Through a fond belief
That Juno was with far superior power
To each oracular response endued,
And that my cause she ne’er would have betrayed.
On me waste no libations, nor let gore
Be poured forth on the spot of my interment,
For I to punish these their impious deeds,
Will cause them with dishonour to return:
From me shall ye receive a double gain,
For you I will assist, and prove to them
Most baneful e’en in death.

ALC. Why are ye loth
To slay this man, if what ye hear be true,
That welfare to this city hence will spring,
And your prosperity? For he points out
The safest road. Alive he is a foe,
But after he is dead will prove a friend.
Ye servants bear him hence, and to the dogs
Cast forth without delay his breathless corse:
Think not, presumptuous wretch, that thou shalt live
Again t’ expel me from my native land.

CHOR. With this am I well pleased. My followers, go.
For hence in our king’s sight shall we stand guiltless.

RHESUS.

PERSONS OF THE DRAMA.

CHORUS OF TROJAN SENTINELS.
HECTOR.
ÆNEAS.
DOLON.
A SHEPHERD.
RHESUS.
ULYSSES.
DIOMEDE.
PARIS.
MINERVA.
THE MUSE.
THE CHARIOTEER OF RHESUS.

SCENE.—BEFORE HECTOR’S TENT AT THE GATES OF TROY.

CHORUS, HECTOR.

CHOR. Let some swift sentinel to Hector’s tent
Go and inquire if any messenger
Be yet arrived, who recent tidings bears
From those, who during the fourth nightly watch
Are by the host deputed. On your arm
Sustain your head, unfold those low’ring eyelids,
And from your lowly couch of withered leaves,
O Hector, rise, for it is time to listen.

HEC. Who comes? art thou a friend? pronounce the watchword.
Who are ye, that by night approach my bed?
Speak out.

CHOR. We guard the camp.

HEC. Why com’st thou hither
With this tumultuous haste?

CHOR. Be of good cheer.

HEC. I am. Hast thou discovered in the camp
This night some treachery?

CHOR. None.

HEC. Why then deserting
The post where thou art stationed, dost thou rouse
The troops, unless thou through this midnight gloom
Bring some important tidings? know’st thou not
That near the Argive host we under arms
Take our repose.

CHOR. Prepare your brave allies:
Go to their chambers, bid them wield the spear,
Rouse them from slumber, and despatch your friends
To your own troop; caparison the steeds.
Who bears the swift alarm to Pantheus’ son?
Who to Europa’s offspring, Lycia’s chief?
Where are the priests who should inspect the victims?
Who leads the light-armed squadron to the field?
And where are Phrygia’s archers? Let each bow
Be strung.

HEC. Thy tidings are in part alarming,
In part thou giv’st us courage, though thou speak
Nought plainly. By the terrifying scourge
Of Pan hast thou been smitten, that thou leav’st
Thy station to alarm the host? Explain
These clamorous sounds. What tidings shall I say
Thou bring’st? Thy words are many, but their drift
I comprehend not.

CHOR. All night long, O Hector,
The Grecian camp hath kindled fires, the torches
Amid their fleet are blazing, and the host
Tumultuous rush to Agamemnon’s tent,
At midnight calling on the king t’ assemble
A council: for the sailors never yet
Were thus alarmed. But I, because I fear
What may ensue, these tidings hither bring,
Lest you should charge me with a breach of duty.

HEC. Full seasonably thou com’st, although thou speak
Words fraught with terror: for these dastards hope
They in their barks shall from this shore escape
Ere I discover them: their kindled fires
Prove this suspicion. Thou, O partial Jove,
Hast robbed me of my triumph, like the prey
Torn from the lion, ere I have destroyed
With this avenging spear the Grecian host.
Had not the sun withdrawn his radiant beams,
I the successful battle had prolonged
Till I had burnt their ships, and hewn a way
Through their encampments, and in slaughter drenched
My bloody hand. I would have fought by night
And taken my advantage of the gales
Sent by auspicious fortune: but the wise,
And seers who knew the will of Heaven, advised me
To wait but till to-morrow’s dawn appeared,
And then sweep every Grecian from the land.
But now no longer will they stay to prove
The truth of what my prophets have foretold:
For cowards in the midnight gloom are brave.
Instantly therefore through the host proclaim
These orders: “Take up arms, and rouse from sleep;”
Pierced through the back as to the ships he flies,
So shall full many a dastard with his gore
Distain the steep ascent; the rest fast bound
In galling chains shall learn to till our fields.

CHOR. O Hector, ere you learn the real fact,
You are too hasty: for we know not yet
That they are flying.

HEC. Wherefore then by night
Are those fires kindled through the Grecian camp?

CHOR. I am not certain, though my soul full strongly
Suspects the cause.

HEC. If thou fear this, thou tremblest
At a mere shadow.

CHOR. Such a light ne’er blazed
Before among the foes.

HEC. Nor such defeat
In battle, did they e’er till now experience.

CHOR. This have you done; look now to what remains.

HEC. I give this short direction: take up arms
Against the foe.

CHOR. Behold! Æneas comes:
Sure, from his haste, some tidings, which deserve
His friends’ attentive ear, the warrior brings.

ÆNEAS, HECTOR, CHORUS.

ÆNE. What mean the watch, O Hector, who by night
Were to their stations in the camp assigned,
That they, with terror smitten, at your chamber
In a nocturnal council have assembled?
And why is the whole army thus in motion?

HEC. Put on thy arms, Æneas.

ÆNE. What hath happened?
Are you informed that in this midnight gloom
The foe hath formed some stratagem?

HEC. They fly!
They mount their ships.

ÆNE. What proof have you of this?

HEC. All night their torches blaze; to me they seem
As if they would not wait to-morrow’s dawn:
But, kindling fires upon their lofty decks,
They sure fly homeward from this hostile land.

ÆNE. But why, if it be thus, prepare your troops
For battle?

HEC. As they mount the deck, this spear
Shall overtake the dastards; I their flight
Will harass: for ’twere base, and prejudicial
As well as base, when Heaven delivers up
The foe into our hands, to suffer those
Who wronged us to escape without a conflict.

ÆNE. Ah! would to Heaven you equally stood foremost
In wisdom, as in courage: but one man
By bounteous Nature never was endued
With knowledge universal: various gifts
Doth she dispense, to you the warrior’s palm,
To others sapient counsels: now you hear
Their torches blaze, you thence infer the Greeks
Are flying, and would lead the troops by night
Over the trenches: but when you have passed
The yawning fosse, should you perceive the foes
Instead of flying from the land, resist,
With dauntless courage, your protended spear,
If you are vanquished, to these sheltering walls
You never can return: for in their flight
How shall the troops o’er slanting palisades
Escape, or, how the charioteer direct
Over the narrow bridge his crashing wheels?
If you prevail, you have a foe at hand,
The son of Peleus, from your flaming torches
Who will protect the fleet, nor suffer you
Utterly to destroy the Grecian host
As you expect; for he is brave. Our troops
Let us then leave to rest from martial toils,
And sleep beside their shields. That we despatch
Amid the foe some voluntary spy,
Is my advice: if they prepare for flight,
Let us assail the Greeks; but if those fires
Are kindled to ensnare us, having learned
The enemy’s intentions, let us hold
A second council on this great emprise.
Illustrious chief, I have declared my thoughts.

CHORUS.