THYESTES

Alcmena:Ye powers of heaven, I bid you fear the fates.[Holding up the urn.]How small a space Alcides' ashes fill!To this small compass has that giant come!O shining sun, how great a man has gone1760To nothingness. Alas, this agéd breastIs large enough to be Alcides' tomb.Behold, his ashes scarce can fill the urn.How small his weight, upon whose shoulders onceThe dome of heaven lay, a burden light.Thou once didst go, my son, to Tartara,1765The farthest realms of death—and come again.Oh, when wilt thou a second time returnFrom that infernal stream? I ask thee notTo come again with spoil, nor bring againImprisoned Theseus to the light of day;But only that thou come again—alone.Will all the world, heaped on thee, hold thy shade,1770Or Cerberus avail to keep thee back?When wilt thou batter down the gates of hell,Or to what portals shall thy mother go?Where is the highway that leads down to death?E'en now thou tak'st thy journey to the shades,Which thou wilt ne'er retrace. Why waste the hoursIn vain complaints? And why, O wretched life,1775Dost thou endure? Why dost thou cling to day?What Hercules can I again bring forthTo Jupiter? What son so great as heWill ever call Alcmena mother? Oh,Too happy thou, my Theban husband, thouWho didst to gloomy Tartara descendWhile still Alcides lived; at thine approach1780The infernal deities were filled with fearOf thee, though only the reputed sireOf Hercules. What land will welcome me,Now old and hated by all cruel kings(If any cruel king remains alive)?Oh, woe is me! Whatever orphaned sonLaments his sire will strive to seek revenge1785From me, and I shall be the prey of all.If any young Busiris or the sonOf dread Antaeus terrifies the land,His booty shall I be. If anyoneWould make reprisal for the Thracian steedsOf bloody Diomede, I shall be given1790To feed those cruel herds. Juno perchanceWill be by passion pricked to seek revenge.Now all her anger will be turned on me;For, though her soul no longer is disturbedBecause of Hercules, I still am left,Her hated rival. Ah, what punishmentWill she inflict, in fear lest I bring forth1795Another son! The mighty HerculesHas made my womb a thing of terror still.Where shall Alcmena take herself? What place,What region of the universe will keep,What hiding-place conceal thy mother now,Since she is known through thee in every land?Shall I return unto my native shores,My wretched lares? There Eurystheus reigns.1800Shall I seek out my husband's city, Thebes,Ismenus' stream, and my own bridal bedWhere once, beloved, I saw great Jupiter?Oh, happy, far too happy had I been,If I myself, like Semele, had feltThe blasting presence of the thundering Jove!Oh, would that from my womb Alcides, too,1805Untimely had been torn! But now 'tis given,'Tis given to see my son with mighty JoveVying in praise; would that this might be given,To know from what fate he could rescue me.What people now will live remembering thee,O son? Ungrateful are they all alike.1810Cleonae shall I seek? the Arcadians,And the lands ennobled by thy mighty deeds?Here fell the serpent dire, here monstrous birds,Here fell the bloody king; and here, subduedBy thy right hand, the lion, who in heavenIs given a place, whilst thou in earth remain'st.1815If earth is grateful, then let every raceDefend Alcmena for thy sake. Shall ITo Thracian peoples go, to Hebrus' tribes?For this land, too, was by thy mighty worksDefended. Low the bloody stables lie,And low the kingdom; peace was granted it,1820What time the cruel king was overthrown.What land, indeed, has not gained peace through thee?Where shall I seek for thee a sepulcher,Unhappy, agéd woman that I am?Let all the world contend for these remainsCollected from the pyre of Hercules.What race, what temples, or what nations askFor them? Who asks to have Alcmena's load?1825What sepulcher, O son, what tomb for theeIs great enough? Naught save the world itself;And lasting fame shall be thine epitaph.But why, O soul of mine, art thou in fear?Thou hast the ashes of thy Hercules.Embrace his bones, and they will give thee help,Will be thy sure defense. For e'en the shade1830Of great Alcides will make kings afraid.Philoctetes:O mother of illustrious Hercules,Restrain the tears thou deemest due thy son;For neither grieving tears nor mournful prayersShould follow him who by his noble worthHas forced his way to heaven in spite of fate.Alcides' deathless valor checks your tears.1835Alcmena:Why should I bate my grief? For I have lostMy savior,[44]yea, the savior of the landAnd sea,[45]and wheresoe'er the shining dayFrom his resplendent car, in east or west,Looks down upon the earth. How many sonsIn him, O wretched mother, have I lost!1840Without a kingdom, I could kingdoms give.I only, 'midst all mothers of the earth,Had never need of prayer; naught from the godsI asked, while Hercules remained alive;For what could his devotion not bestow?What god in heaven could e'er deny me aught?1845In my own hands was answer of my prayer;For what great Jove denied, Alcides gave.What mortal mother e'er bore such a son?A mother once with grief was turned to stone,When, 'midst her brood of fourteen children slain,She stood, one mother, and bewailed them all.1850To many families like hers my sonCould be compared. Till now for mother's griefA measure vast enough could not be found;But now will I, Alcmena, furnish it.Then cease, ye mothers, though persistent griefTill now has bidden you weep; though heavy woe1855Has turned your hearts to stone; and yield you allUnto my woes.Then come, ye wretched hands,And beat this agéd breast. But can it beThat thou alone canst for so great a lossLament, so old and worn, which[46]all the world1860Will presently attempt? Yet raise thy arms,However weary, to their mournful task.And to thy wailing summon all the earth,And so excite the envy of the gods.[Here followsAlcmena'sformal song of mourning, accompanied by the usual Oriental gestures of grief.]Bewail Alcmena's son, the seedOf Jove, for whose conception, long,1865Day perished and the lingering dawnCombined two nights in one. But nowA greater than the day is dead.Ye nations, join in common grief,Whose cruel lords he bade descendTo Stygian realms, and lay aside1870Their red swords reeking with the bloodOf subject peoples. With your tearsRepay his services; let earth,The whole round earth, with woe resound.Let sea-girt Crete bewail him, Crete,The Thunderer's belovéd land;1875Beat, beat your breasts, ye hundred tribes;Ye Cretans, Corybantes, nowClash Ida's cymbals; for 'tis meetTo mourn him thus. Now, now lamentHis funeral; for low he lies,1880A mate, O Crete, for Jove himself.Bewail the death of Hercules,Ye sons of Arcady, whose raceIs older than Diana's birth.Let your cries from high PartheniusAnd Nemea's halls resound afar;1885Let Maenala re-echo loudYour sounds of woe. The bristly boarWithin your borders overthrownDemands lament for Hercules;And the monster of Stymphalus' pool,Whose spreading wings shut out the day,By great Alcides' arrows slain.1890Weep thou, Cleonae, weep and wailFor him; for once the lion hugeWhich held your walls in terror, he,By his strong hand, o'ercame and slew.Ye Thracian matrons, beat your breasts,And let cold Hebrus resound to your beating.1895Lament for Alcides: no longer your childrenAre born for the stables; no longer your vitalsWild horses devour. O ye African lands,From Antaeus delivered, ye regions of SpainFrom Geryon saved, come, weep for your hero.1900Yea, all ye wretched nations, weepWith me and smite your breasts in woe,And let your blows be heard afar,By eastern and by western shores.Ye dwellers in the whirling sky,Ye gods above, do ye, too, weepThe fate of Hercules; for he1905Your heavens upon his shoulders bore,When Atlas, who was wont to bearThe spangled skies, was eased awhileOf his vast load. Where now, O Jove,Is the promised palace of the sky,1910Those heavenly heights? Alcides diesAnd is entombed—the common lot.How often has he spared for theeThe deadly thunderbolt of wrath!How seldom wast thou forced to hurlThy fires! But hurl 'gainst me at leastOne shaft, and think me Semele.1915And now, O son, hast thou obtainedThe fields Elysian, the shoreTo which the voice of nature callsAll nations? Or has gloomy StyxHemmed in thy way in vengeful wrathBecause of stolen Cerberus,And in the outer court of Dis1920Do jealous fates detain thee still?Oh what a rout among the shadesAnd frightened manes must there be!Does Charon flee in his ghostly skiff?With flying hoofs do the Centaurs rush1925Through the wandering shades? Does the hydra seekIn fear to plunge his snaky heads'Neath the murky waves? Do all thy tasksHold thee in fear?Ah me! Ah me!What foolish, raving madness this!I am mistaken quite. I know1930The shades and manes fear thee not;For neither does the tawny skinStripped from the fierce Argolic beastProtect thy left with its streaming mane,Nor do its savage teeth surround1935Thy head. Thy quiver with its dartsThou hast given away, and a weaker handWill aim thy bow. Alas, my son,Unarmed through the shades thou tak'st thy way;And with the shades shalt thou dwell for aye.The Voice of Hercules[sounding from heaven]: Why, since I hold the starry realms of sky,1940And have at last attained a heavenly seat,Dost thou by wailing bid me feel againMortality? Give o'er, since valor nowHas made for me a passage to the gods.Alcmena[bewildered]: Whence fall upon my startled earsThese sounds? Whence come these thunder tonesThat bid me check my tears? Ah, now1945I know that chaos is o'ercome.From Styx art thou once more returned,O son? And hast thou once againVanquished the grizzly power of death?Hast thou escaped the grim abodeOf death once more, the gloomy poolsWhere sailed the dark infernal skiff?1950Does Acheron's wan stream allowTo thee alone a backward way?And after death has greedy fateNo hold upon thy dauntless soul?Perchance thy way to hell was barredBy Pluto's self, who trembled soreFor his own realm? Upon the pyre1955Of blazing woods I saw thee lie;While to the stars the raging flamesShot up. Thou wast indeed consumed.Then why does not the far abodeOf death retain thy spirit still?1960What part of thee do trembling manes fear?Is e'en thy shade too terrible for Dis?Hercules[his form now taking shape in the air above]: The pools of grim Cocytus hold me not,Nor has the dusky skiff contained my ghost.Then cease thy mourning, mother; once for allHave I beheld the manes and the shades.1965The mortal part of me, the part thou gav'st,Was by the overmastering flames consumed;Thy part to fire, my father's part to heavenHas been consigned. Then cease thy loud laments,Which it were fitting to a worthless sonTo give. To inglorious souls such grief is due;1970For courage heavenward tends; base fear, to death.Hear now, as from the stars I prophesy:Soon shall the bloody king, Eurystheus, payFit penalty to thee for all his deeds;For over his proud head shalt thou be borneIn thy triumphant car. But now 'tis meetThat I return to the celestial realms;1975Alcides once again has conquered hell.[He vanishes from sight.]Alcmena:Stay but a little—ah, from my fond eyesHe has departed, gone again to heaven.Am I deceived, and do my eyes but dreamThey saw my son? My soul for very griefIs faithless still. Not so, thou art a god,1980And holdest even now the immortal skies.I trust thy triumph still. But quickly nowUnto the realm of Thebes will I repair,And proudly tell thy new-made godhead there.[Exit.]Chorus:Never is glorious manhood borneTo Stygian shades. The brave live on,Nor over Lethe's silent stream1985Shall they by cruel fate be drawn.But when life's days are all consumed,And comes the final hour, for themA pathway to the gods is spreadBy glory.Be thou with us yet,O mighty conqueror of beasts,1990Subduer of the world. Oh, stillHave thought unto this earth of ours.And if some strange, new monster comeAnd fill the nations with his dread,Do thou with forkéd lightnings crushThe beast; yea, hurl thy thunderbolts1995More mightily than Jove himself.FOOTNOTES:[43]Reading,nemus.[44]Reading,vindicem amisi.[45]Reading,terrae atque pelagi.[46]Reading,quod.THYESTESTHYESTESDRAMATIS PERSONAEThyestesBrother of Atreus, in exile from his fatherland.The Ghost of Tantalus.Doomed for his sins to come back to earth and inspire his house to greater sin.The FuryWho drives the ghost on to do his allotted part.AtreusKing of Argos, grandson of Tantalus, who has quarreled with his brother and driven him into exile.An Attendant of Atreus.Three sons of Thyestes:Only one of whom, Tantalus, takes part in the dialogue.A Messenger.ChorusCitizens of Mycenae.The sceneis laid partly without the city of Argos, and partly within the royal palace.Pelops, the son of Tantalus, had banished his sons for the murder of their half-brother, Crysippus, with a curse upon them, that they and their posterity might perish by each others' hands. Upon the death of Pelops, Atreus returned and took possession of his father's throne. Thyestes, also, claimed the throne, and sought to gain it by the foulest means. For he seduced his brother's wife, Aërope, and stole by her assistance the magical, gold-fleeced ram from Atreus' flocks, upon the possession of which the right to rule was said to rest. For this act he was banished by the king.But Atreus has long been meditating a more complete revenge upon his brother; and now in pretended friendship has recalled him from banishment, offering him a place beside himself upon the throne, that thus he may have Thyestes entirely in his power.ACT IThe Ghost of Tantalus:Who from th' accurséd regions of the dead,Hath haled me forth, where greedily I striveTo snatch the food that ever doth escapeMy hungry lips? Who now to TantalusDoth show those heavenly seats which once beforeI saw to my undoing? Can it beThat some more fearful suffering than thirstIn sight of water, worse than gaping want,5Hath been devised? Must I the slippery stoneOf Sisyphus upon my shoulders bear?Must I be stretched upon the whirling wheel,Or suffer Tityus' pangs, who, lying proneWithin a huge recess, the grewsome birds10Doth with his quivering, torn-out vitals feed?By night renewing what the day hath lost,He lies, an undiminished feast for all.For what new evil am I now reserved?O thou grim judge of shades, who'er thou artWho to the dead doth mete new punishments!If thou canst still some suffering devise15Whereat grim Cerberus himself would quake,And gloomy Acheron be seized with fear,At whose dread sight e'en I would tremble sore:Seek such a punishment; for from my seedIs sprung a race which shall their house outvie20In sin, shall make me innocent appear,And dare to do what I have never dared.Whatever space within the impious realmsRemains unoccupied, my house shall fill.While lives the race of Pelops on the earth,No rest shall Minos know.The Fury:Thou curséd shade,Be gone, and to the verge of madness driveThine impious house. Be drawn the deadly sword25To every crime upraised, by every hand;Of angry passions let there be no end,No shame of strife; let blinded fury's stingPrick on their souls; seared by the breath of rageMay parents' hearts grow hard, and endless crimeTo childrens' children drag its impious trail.No time be given to hate their former crimes;But let the new in quick succession rise,30Not one alone in each; and may their crimes,E'en while they suffer punishment, increase.Let the throne fall from the haughty brothers' grasp,And call them back from exiled wanderings.Let the tottering fortune of this bloody house,Amid its changing kings in ruins fall.Bring him of high estate to wretchedness,35The wretched raise; and let the kingdom tossUpon the seething tide of circumstance.By crime driven out, when God shall bring them home,May they return but to still other crimes,And by all men as by themselves be loathed.Let nothing be which wrath deems unallowed:Let brother brother fear, and parent child;40Let son fear father; let the children dieAn evil death—by doubly evil birthBe born. Let wives against their husbands liftTheir murderous hands. Let wars pass over seas,And every land be drenched with streams of blood.Triumphant o'er the mighty kings of earth,Let Lust exult; and in thy sinful house,45Let vile, incestuous deeds seem trivial.Let justice, faith, fraternal amityBe trampled underfoot; and of our sinsLet not the heavens themselves escape the taint.Why gleam the constellations in the sky,And flash their wonted glories to the world?50Be pitchy black the night, and let the dayFall fainting from the heavens and be no more.Embroil thy household gods, rouse murderous hate,And all the palace fill with Tantalus.Adorn the lofty columns; let the doors,With verdant laural decked, proclaim their joy;Let torches gleam in celebration meet55Of thy return—then let the Thracian crimeBe done again, but triply hideous.Why stays the uncle's hand in idleness?Not yet Thyestes weeps his murdered sons.When will he act? The kettles o'er the firesShould even now be boiling, severed limbs60Be broken up, the father's hearth be stainedWith children's blood, the festal tables spread.But at no untried carnival of crimeWilt thou sit down as guest. This day be free,And sate thy hunger at that festal board;Go eat thy fill, and drink the blood and wine65Commingled in thy sight. A banquet this,Which thou thyself wouldst look in horror on.—But stay thee. Whither dost thou rush away?Tantalus:Back to my pools and streams and ebbing waves,Back to that tree whose ever-mocking fruitEludes my lips. Oh, let me seek againThe gloomy couch of my old prison-house;70And if too little wretched I appear,Bid me my river change. Within thy stream,O Phlegethon, hemmed round with waves of fire,Let me be left to suffer.Ye, whoe'erBy fate's decrees are doomed to punishment,Whoe'er thou art who 'neath the hollowed cave75Dost lie, in constant fear lest even nowThe cavern's mass shall fall upon thy head;Whoever fears the gaping, greedy jawsOf lions, and in helpless horror looksUpon the advancing furies' cruel lines;Whoe'er, half burned, their threat'ning torches shuns:Oh, listen to the voice of Tantalus80Fast speeding to your realm; believe the wordsOf one who knows, and love your punishment.But now—Oh, when shall it be mine to fleeThis upper world?The Fury:First must thou plunge thy houseIn dire disorders, stir up deadly feuds,Awake the kings to evil lust for blood,And rouse to wild amaze their maddened hearts.Tantalus:'Tis fit that I should suffer, not bestow,85The punishment. But thou wouldst have me go,Like deadly vapor from the riven earth,Or like the plague amongst the people spread,And lead my grandsons into crime most foul.O mighty sire of gods, my sire as well,Although 'tis shame to thee to own me son,90Though cruel tortures seize my tattling tongue,I will not hold my peace:[He cries aloud as to his family.]I warn ye all,Stain not your kindred hands with sacred blood,And with no madman's gifts pollute the shrines.Lo, here I stand, and shall avert the deed.95[To theFury.]Why dost thou fright me with thy brandished scourge,And shake thy writhing serpents in my face?Why in mine inmost marrow dost thou rouseThese gnawing hunger pangs? My very heartIs parched with burning thirst, and leaping flamesDart scorching through my vitals—Oh, desist;I yield me to thy will.100The Fury:Then fix this thirst,This maddening thirst in all thy kindred here;So, e'en as thou, may they be driven onTo quench their thirst each in the others' blood.But lo, thy house perceives thy near approach,And shrinks in horror from thy loathsome touch.But now enough. Do thou go back again105To thine infernal caves and 'customed stream;For here the sad earth groans beneath thy feet.Dost thou not see how, driven far within,The waters flee their springs? how river banksAre empty, and the fiery wind drives onThe scattered clouds? The trees grow sickly pale,Their branches hang denuded of their fruits;110And where but late the Isthmus echoed backThe loud resounding waters near at hand,Their neighboring waves by but a narrow spanDividing, now have all the waves withdrawnFar seaward, and their voice is faintly heardUpon the shore. Now Lerna backward shrinks,115The streams of Inachus have hidden away,The sacred Alpheus sends his waters forthNo longer, and Cithaeron lifts no moreIts hoary head, for all its snows are gone;While they who dwell in noble Argos fearTheir ancient thirst again. E'en Titan's selfStands doubtful whether he shall bid his steeds120Run their accustomed course and bring the day,Foredoomed by thee to perish on the way.[They vanish.]Chorus:If any god for Argos cares,And Pisa's realm for chariots famed;If any loves the Isthmian stateOf Corinth, with its double ports,And two opposing seas;125If any joys in the far-seen snowsOf Mount Taygetus, which lieHeaped on his loftiest peaks what timeThe wintry blasts of Boreas blow,But which the summer melts againWhen breathe the soft Etesian winds,Sail filling; if the Alpheus brightWith its cool, clear stream moves any god,130Far famed for its Olympic course—Let him his peaceful godhead turnTo our affairs; let him avertThis dread inheritance of crime;Forbid that in his grandsire's stepsThe grandson follow, worse than he;And let not worse monstrositiesPlease generations yet to be.135Oh, may at last the impious raceOf thirsty Tantalus give o'erIn utter weariness its lustFor savage deeds. Enough of sin!No longer does the right prevail,And wrong is general. Behold,As Myrtilus his lord betrayed,He, too, was treacherously slain;For by that selfsame broken faith140Which he had shown, himself o'ercome,[47]He fell into the sea and changedIts name for his. Amidst the shipsThat sail the Ionian sea, no taleIs better known.See now, while runs the little sonTo meet his father's kiss, he falls145By that accurséd sword transfixed,Untimely victim at thy hearth,And carved, O Tantalus, by thee,That so thou mightest grace the boardOf friendly gods. That impious feastEternal hunger, endless thirstRewarded; penalty more fit150For such a crime could not be found.See where, with gaping throat, forespent,Stands Tantalus; above his headHang many luscious fruits; but, swiftAs Phineus' birds, they flee his grasp;On every side the tree droops low,With heavy-laden boughs, o'erweighed155By its own fruit, and mockinglySways to his straining lips. Yet he,Though with impatient longing filled,As often mocked, so often failsTo grasp the prize; he turns away160His longing gaze, strains close his lips,And grimly bars his hunger fastBehind his teeth. But still againThe whole grove lets its riches down,And flaunts them in his face, soft fruitsOn drooping boughs, and whets once moreHis hunger, bidding stretch again165His hands—but all in vain. For now,When it has lured him on to hope,And mocked its fill, the boughs recede,And the whole ripe harvest of the woodIs snatched far out of reach.Then comes a raging thirst more fierceThan hunger, which inflames his blood,170And with its parching fires burns upIts moisture. There the poor wretch stands,Striving to quaff the nearby waves;But the fleeing waters whirl away,And leave but the empty bed to himWho seeks to follow. Quick he quaffsAt that swift stream, but to drink—the dust.175FOOTNOTES:[47]Reading,vectus.ACT IIAtreus[in soliloquy]: O soul, so sluggish, spiritless, and weak,And (what in kings I deem the last reproach)Still unavenged, after so many crimes,Thy brother's treacheries, and every lawOf nature set at naught, canst vent thy wrathIn vain and meaningless complaints? By nowThe whole wide world should be astir with arms,180Thy arms, and on both seas thy ships of warShould swarm; the fields and town's should be ablaze,And gleaming swords should everywhere be seen.Beneath our charging squadrons' thundering treadLet Greece resound; let this my enemyWithin no forest's depths a hiding find.185No citadel upon the mountain heightsShall shelter him. Let all the citizens,Mycenae leaving, sound the trump of war.Whoe'er grants refuge to that curséd head,Shall die a dreadful death. This noble pile,The home of our illustrious Pelops' line,190I would might fall on me, if only thusIt might destroy my hated brother too.But come, my soul, do what no coming ageShall e'er approve—or e'er forget; some deedMust be attempted, impious, bloody, dire,Such as my brother's self might claim as his.No crime's avenged save by a greater crime.195But where the crime that can surpass his deeds?Is he yet crushed in spirit? Does he showIn prosperous circumstances self-control,Contentment in defeat? Full well I knowHis tameless spirit; it can ne'er be bent—But can be broken. Then, before his force200He strengthens and opposing powers prepares,We must the attack begin, lest, while we wait,He strike us unprepared. For well I knowThat he must either slay me or be slainBy me. There lies the crime between us two:Who leaps to grasp it first, the crime shall do.Attendant:But does the evil fame of such a deedDeter you not?Atreus:The greatest blessing thisOf royal power, that men are forced to praise205Their monarchs' deeds as well as bear them.Attendant:Yea,But they whose praise is forced by fear becomeBy that same fear in turn the bitterest foes.But he who seeks the people's heartfelt praise,Will wish their hearts and not their tongues to speak.210Atreus:True praise may often fall to humble men,But false alone to kings. Let subjects learnTo want what they would not.Attendant:Let monarchs learnTo choose the right; then all will choose the same.Atreus:When kings are forced to choose the right alone,Their rule is insecure.Attendant:Where is no shame,No thought of righteousness, no piety,215No faith, no purity, Oh, then indeedThat rule is insecure.Atreus:But purity,Faith, piety, are private virtues all;With kings, their will is law.Attendant:Oh, count it wrongTo harm thy brother, though he basest be.Atreus:Whatever may not lawfully be done220To brothers, may with perfect right be doneTo him. What is there left me now unstainedBy crime of his? Where has he failed to sin?My wife has he debauched, my kingdom stolen,The ancient emblem of our dynastyBy fraud obtained, and all our royal houseBy that same fraud in dire confusion plunged.There is a flock within our royal stalls,225Rich fleeced and nobly bred, and with the flockA ram, their leader, wondrous, magical;For from his body thickly hangs a fleeceOf fine-spun gold, with which the new-crowned kingsOf Pelops' line are wont t' adorn their scepters.Who owns the ram is king, for with his fate230The fortunes of our noble house are linked.This sacred ram in safety feeds apartWithin a mead whose fateful bounds are fencedBy stony walls, and kept with gate of stone.Him, greatly daring, did my brother steal,Perfidious, with my wife in secret league235Of crime. And this has been the fountain springOf all my woes; throughout my kingdom's lengthHave I a trembling exile wandered long,And found no place of safety from his snares;My wife has he defiled, my subjects' faithAnd loyalty destroyed, my house o'erthrown,All ties of kinship broken, and nothing left240Of which I may be sure save only this—My brother's enmity. Why do I standIn stupid inactivity? At lengthBestir thyself, and gird thy courage up.Think thou on Pelops and on Tantalus;Such deeds as theirs must by my hands be done.[ToAttendant.]Tell thou me then how vengeance may be won.Attendant:Drive out his hostile spirit with the sword.245Atreus:Thou speakest of the end of punishment,But I the punishment itself desire.Let easy-going rulers slay their foes;In my domain death is a longed-for boon.Attendant:Do pious motives stir thee not at all?Atreus:Away, O Piety, if ever thouDidst dwell within my house, and in thy steadLet come dire furies' cohorts, fiends at war,250Megaera holding high in either handHer flaming torch; for with a mighty rage'Tis not enough my heart should be inflamed:I fain would be by greater horrors filled.Attendant:What new design does thy mad soul conceive?Atreus:No deed within the accustomed bounds of grief.255I'll leave no crime undone; and yet no crimeIs bad enough for me.Attendant:Wilt use the sword?Atreus:'Tis not enough.Attendant:The flames?Atreus:Still not enough.Attendant:What weapon then will thy mad passion use?Atreus:Thyestes' self.Attendant:Far worse than madness this.Atreus:I do confess it. Deep within my heart,260A fearful tumult rages unrestrained,And I am hurried on, I know not where;I only know that I am hurried on.From lowest depths a moaning sound is heard,And thunders rumble in the cloudless skies;A crashing noise resounds throughout the houseAs though 'twere rent in twain; upon my hearthThe frightened Lares turn their gaze from me.265Yet this shall be, this awful thing shall be,Ye gods, which ye do fear to think upon.Attendant:What then is this which thou dost meditate?Atreus:Some greater evil lurks within my soul,And, monstrous, swells beyond all human bounds,My sluggish hands impelling to the deed.I know not what it is; but this I know,That 'tis some monstrous deed. So let it be.270Haste thee and do this deed, O soul of mine!'Tis worthy of Thyestes—and of me.Let both perform it then. The Odrysian houseWas wont to look on feasts unspeakable—monstrous thing, 'tis true, but long agoPerformed. This grief of mine some greater sin275Must find to feed upon. Do thou inspireMy heart, O Daulian Procne, who didst knowA mother's and a sister's feelings too.Our cause is similar. Assist thou then,And nerve my hand to act. Let once againA sire with joyous greed his children rend,And hungrily devour their flesh. 'Tis good,'Tis quite enough. This mode of punishmentSo far doth please me well. But where is he?280Why do the hands of Atreus rest so longInactive? Even now before mine eyesThe perfect image of the slaughter comes;I seem to see the murdered children heapedBefore their father's face. O timid soul,Why dost thou fear? Why droops thy courage nowBefore the deed is done? Then up, and dare.Of this mad crime the most revolting part285Thyestes' self shall do.Attendant:But by what wilesShall we unto our snares entice his feet?For he doth count us all his enemies.Atreus:He never could be taken, were his willNot bent on taking too. E'en now he hopesTo take my kingdom from me. In this hope,He'll rush against the bolts of threat'ning Jove;290This hope will make him brave the whirlpools' wrath,And sail within the treacherous Libyan shoals;On this hope stayed, the greatest ill of allWill he have strength to bear—the sight of me.Attendant:But who will give him confidence in peace?To whom will he such weighty credence give?295Atreus:His wicked hope is ready to believe.Yet shall my sons this message bear from me:Now let the wretched exile roam no more,But leave his homeless state for royal halls,And rule at Argos, sharer of my throne.But if Thyestes harshly spurn my prayer,His guileless children, overspent with woes300And easily beguiled, will bend his willUnto their prayers. His ancient thirst for power,Together with his present poverty,And harsh demands of toil will move the man,However stubborn, by their weight of woes.Attendant:But time by now has made his troubles light.305Atreus:Nay; sense of wrong increases day by day.'Tis easy to bear hardship for a time;But to endure it long, an irksome task.Attendant:Choose other servants of thy grim design.Atreus:Young men lend ready ear to base commands.Attendant:Beware, lest what against their uncle now310Thou teachest them, they turn against their sireIn time to come. Full oft do crimes recoilUpon the man who instigated them.Atreus:Though none should teach them fraud and ways of crime,The throne itself would teach them. Dost thou fearLest they grow evil? Evil were they born.What thou dost savage, cruel call in me,Dost deem impossible and impious,315Perchance my brother even now doth plotAgainst myself.Attendant:Shall then thy children knowWhat crime they do?Atreus:Not so, for youthful yearsCannot keep silent faith. They might perchanceBetray the trick. The art of secrecyIs mastered only by the ills of life.Attendant:And wilt thou then deceive the very ones320Through whom thou plann'st another to deceive?Atreus:That so they may themselves be free from guilt.For what the need of implicating themIn crimes of mine? Nay, through my acts aloneMy hate shall work its ends. But hold, my soul,Thou doest ill, thou shrinkest from the task.If thou dost spare thine own, thou sparest his325As well. So then let Agamemnon beThe conscious minister of my designs,And wittingly let Menelaüs helpHis father's plans. And by this test of crime,Let their uncertain birth be put to proof:If they refuse to wage this deadly war,And will not serve my hatred; if they pleadHe is their uncle—then is he their sire.So let them go. But no! a look of fear330Has oft revealed the heart. And weighty plans,E'en 'gainst the stoutest will, betray themselves.They shall not know of how great consequenceTheir mission is.[ToAttendant.]And do thou hide it too.Attendant:No warning do I need, for in my breastIt shall be hid by fear and loyalty.But more shall loyalty prevail with me.335

Alcmena:Ye powers of heaven, I bid you fear the fates.

[Holding up the urn.]

How small a space Alcides' ashes fill!

To this small compass has that giant come!

O shining sun, how great a man has gone1760

To nothingness. Alas, this agéd breast

Is large enough to be Alcides' tomb.

Behold, his ashes scarce can fill the urn.

How small his weight, upon whose shoulders once

The dome of heaven lay, a burden light.

Thou once didst go, my son, to Tartara,1765

The farthest realms of death—and come again.

Oh, when wilt thou a second time return

From that infernal stream? I ask thee not

To come again with spoil, nor bring again

Imprisoned Theseus to the light of day;

But only that thou come again—alone.

Will all the world, heaped on thee, hold thy shade,1770

Or Cerberus avail to keep thee back?

When wilt thou batter down the gates of hell,

Or to what portals shall thy mother go?

Where is the highway that leads down to death?

E'en now thou tak'st thy journey to the shades,

Which thou wilt ne'er retrace. Why waste the hours

In vain complaints? And why, O wretched life,1775

Dost thou endure? Why dost thou cling to day?

What Hercules can I again bring forth

To Jupiter? What son so great as he

Will ever call Alcmena mother? Oh,

Too happy thou, my Theban husband, thou

Who didst to gloomy Tartara descend

While still Alcides lived; at thine approach1780

The infernal deities were filled with fear

Of thee, though only the reputed sire

Of Hercules. What land will welcome me,

Now old and hated by all cruel kings

(If any cruel king remains alive)?

Oh, woe is me! Whatever orphaned son

Laments his sire will strive to seek revenge1785

From me, and I shall be the prey of all.

If any young Busiris or the son

Of dread Antaeus terrifies the land,

His booty shall I be. If anyone

Would make reprisal for the Thracian steeds

Of bloody Diomede, I shall be given1790

To feed those cruel herds. Juno perchance

Will be by passion pricked to seek revenge.

Now all her anger will be turned on me;

For, though her soul no longer is disturbed

Because of Hercules, I still am left,

Her hated rival. Ah, what punishment

Will she inflict, in fear lest I bring forth1795

Another son! The mighty Hercules

Has made my womb a thing of terror still.

Where shall Alcmena take herself? What place,

What region of the universe will keep,

What hiding-place conceal thy mother now,

Since she is known through thee in every land?

Shall I return unto my native shores,

My wretched lares? There Eurystheus reigns.1800

Shall I seek out my husband's city, Thebes,

Ismenus' stream, and my own bridal bed

Where once, beloved, I saw great Jupiter?

Oh, happy, far too happy had I been,

If I myself, like Semele, had felt

The blasting presence of the thundering Jove!

Oh, would that from my womb Alcides, too,1805

Untimely had been torn! But now 'tis given,

'Tis given to see my son with mighty Jove

Vying in praise; would that this might be given,

To know from what fate he could rescue me.

What people now will live remembering thee,

O son? Ungrateful are they all alike.1810

Cleonae shall I seek? the Arcadians,

And the lands ennobled by thy mighty deeds?

Here fell the serpent dire, here monstrous birds,

Here fell the bloody king; and here, subdued

By thy right hand, the lion, who in heaven

Is given a place, whilst thou in earth remain'st.1815

If earth is grateful, then let every race

Defend Alcmena for thy sake. Shall I

To Thracian peoples go, to Hebrus' tribes?

For this land, too, was by thy mighty works

Defended. Low the bloody stables lie,

And low the kingdom; peace was granted it,1820

What time the cruel king was overthrown.

What land, indeed, has not gained peace through thee?

Where shall I seek for thee a sepulcher,

Unhappy, agéd woman that I am?

Let all the world contend for these remains

Collected from the pyre of Hercules.

What race, what temples, or what nations ask

For them? Who asks to have Alcmena's load?1825

What sepulcher, O son, what tomb for thee

Is great enough? Naught save the world itself;

And lasting fame shall be thine epitaph.

But why, O soul of mine, art thou in fear?

Thou hast the ashes of thy Hercules.

Embrace his bones, and they will give thee help,

Will be thy sure defense. For e'en the shade1830

Of great Alcides will make kings afraid.

Philoctetes:O mother of illustrious Hercules,Restrain the tears thou deemest due thy son;For neither grieving tears nor mournful prayersShould follow him who by his noble worthHas forced his way to heaven in spite of fate.Alcides' deathless valor checks your tears.1835

Philoctetes:O mother of illustrious Hercules,

Restrain the tears thou deemest due thy son;

For neither grieving tears nor mournful prayers

Should follow him who by his noble worth

Has forced his way to heaven in spite of fate.

Alcides' deathless valor checks your tears.1835

Alcmena:Why should I bate my grief? For I have lostMy savior,[44]yea, the savior of the landAnd sea,[45]and wheresoe'er the shining dayFrom his resplendent car, in east or west,Looks down upon the earth. How many sonsIn him, O wretched mother, have I lost!1840Without a kingdom, I could kingdoms give.I only, 'midst all mothers of the earth,Had never need of prayer; naught from the godsI asked, while Hercules remained alive;For what could his devotion not bestow?What god in heaven could e'er deny me aught?1845In my own hands was answer of my prayer;For what great Jove denied, Alcides gave.What mortal mother e'er bore such a son?A mother once with grief was turned to stone,When, 'midst her brood of fourteen children slain,She stood, one mother, and bewailed them all.1850To many families like hers my sonCould be compared. Till now for mother's griefA measure vast enough could not be found;But now will I, Alcmena, furnish it.Then cease, ye mothers, though persistent griefTill now has bidden you weep; though heavy woe1855Has turned your hearts to stone; and yield you allUnto my woes.Then come, ye wretched hands,And beat this agéd breast. But can it beThat thou alone canst for so great a lossLament, so old and worn, which[46]all the world1860Will presently attempt? Yet raise thy arms,However weary, to their mournful task.And to thy wailing summon all the earth,And so excite the envy of the gods.[Here followsAlcmena'sformal song of mourning, accompanied by the usual Oriental gestures of grief.]Bewail Alcmena's son, the seedOf Jove, for whose conception, long,1865Day perished and the lingering dawnCombined two nights in one. But nowA greater than the day is dead.Ye nations, join in common grief,Whose cruel lords he bade descendTo Stygian realms, and lay aside1870Their red swords reeking with the bloodOf subject peoples. With your tearsRepay his services; let earth,The whole round earth, with woe resound.Let sea-girt Crete bewail him, Crete,The Thunderer's belovéd land;1875Beat, beat your breasts, ye hundred tribes;Ye Cretans, Corybantes, nowClash Ida's cymbals; for 'tis meetTo mourn him thus. Now, now lamentHis funeral; for low he lies,1880A mate, O Crete, for Jove himself.Bewail the death of Hercules,Ye sons of Arcady, whose raceIs older than Diana's birth.Let your cries from high PartheniusAnd Nemea's halls resound afar;1885Let Maenala re-echo loudYour sounds of woe. The bristly boarWithin your borders overthrownDemands lament for Hercules;And the monster of Stymphalus' pool,Whose spreading wings shut out the day,By great Alcides' arrows slain.1890Weep thou, Cleonae, weep and wailFor him; for once the lion hugeWhich held your walls in terror, he,By his strong hand, o'ercame and slew.Ye Thracian matrons, beat your breasts,And let cold Hebrus resound to your beating.1895Lament for Alcides: no longer your childrenAre born for the stables; no longer your vitalsWild horses devour. O ye African lands,From Antaeus delivered, ye regions of SpainFrom Geryon saved, come, weep for your hero.1900Yea, all ye wretched nations, weepWith me and smite your breasts in woe,And let your blows be heard afar,By eastern and by western shores.Ye dwellers in the whirling sky,Ye gods above, do ye, too, weepThe fate of Hercules; for he1905Your heavens upon his shoulders bore,When Atlas, who was wont to bearThe spangled skies, was eased awhileOf his vast load. Where now, O Jove,Is the promised palace of the sky,1910Those heavenly heights? Alcides diesAnd is entombed—the common lot.How often has he spared for theeThe deadly thunderbolt of wrath!How seldom wast thou forced to hurlThy fires! But hurl 'gainst me at leastOne shaft, and think me Semele.1915And now, O son, hast thou obtainedThe fields Elysian, the shoreTo which the voice of nature callsAll nations? Or has gloomy StyxHemmed in thy way in vengeful wrathBecause of stolen Cerberus,And in the outer court of Dis1920Do jealous fates detain thee still?Oh what a rout among the shadesAnd frightened manes must there be!Does Charon flee in his ghostly skiff?With flying hoofs do the Centaurs rush1925Through the wandering shades? Does the hydra seekIn fear to plunge his snaky heads'Neath the murky waves? Do all thy tasksHold thee in fear?Ah me! Ah me!What foolish, raving madness this!I am mistaken quite. I know1930The shades and manes fear thee not;For neither does the tawny skinStripped from the fierce Argolic beastProtect thy left with its streaming mane,Nor do its savage teeth surround1935Thy head. Thy quiver with its dartsThou hast given away, and a weaker handWill aim thy bow. Alas, my son,Unarmed through the shades thou tak'st thy way;And with the shades shalt thou dwell for aye.

Alcmena:Why should I bate my grief? For I have lost

My savior,[44]yea, the savior of the land

And sea,[45]and wheresoe'er the shining day

From his resplendent car, in east or west,

Looks down upon the earth. How many sons

In him, O wretched mother, have I lost!1840

Without a kingdom, I could kingdoms give.

I only, 'midst all mothers of the earth,

Had never need of prayer; naught from the gods

I asked, while Hercules remained alive;

For what could his devotion not bestow?

What god in heaven could e'er deny me aught?1845

In my own hands was answer of my prayer;

For what great Jove denied, Alcides gave.

What mortal mother e'er bore such a son?

A mother once with grief was turned to stone,

When, 'midst her brood of fourteen children slain,

She stood, one mother, and bewailed them all.1850

To many families like hers my son

Could be compared. Till now for mother's grief

A measure vast enough could not be found;

But now will I, Alcmena, furnish it.

Then cease, ye mothers, though persistent grief

Till now has bidden you weep; though heavy woe1855

Has turned your hearts to stone; and yield you all

Unto my woes.

Then come, ye wretched hands,

And beat this agéd breast. But can it be

That thou alone canst for so great a loss

Lament, so old and worn, which[46]all the world1860

Will presently attempt? Yet raise thy arms,

However weary, to their mournful task.

And to thy wailing summon all the earth,

And so excite the envy of the gods.

[Here followsAlcmena'sformal song of mourning, accompanied by the usual Oriental gestures of grief.]

Bewail Alcmena's son, the seed

Of Jove, for whose conception, long,1865

Day perished and the lingering dawn

Combined two nights in one. But now

A greater than the day is dead.

Ye nations, join in common grief,

Whose cruel lords he bade descend

To Stygian realms, and lay aside1870

Their red swords reeking with the blood

Of subject peoples. With your tears

Repay his services; let earth,

The whole round earth, with woe resound.

Let sea-girt Crete bewail him, Crete,

The Thunderer's belovéd land;1875

Beat, beat your breasts, ye hundred tribes;

Ye Cretans, Corybantes, now

Clash Ida's cymbals; for 'tis meet

To mourn him thus. Now, now lament

His funeral; for low he lies,1880

A mate, O Crete, for Jove himself.

Bewail the death of Hercules,

Ye sons of Arcady, whose race

Is older than Diana's birth.

Let your cries from high Parthenius

And Nemea's halls resound afar;1885

Let Maenala re-echo loud

Your sounds of woe. The bristly boar

Within your borders overthrown

Demands lament for Hercules;

And the monster of Stymphalus' pool,

Whose spreading wings shut out the day,

By great Alcides' arrows slain.1890

Weep thou, Cleonae, weep and wail

For him; for once the lion huge

Which held your walls in terror, he,

By his strong hand, o'ercame and slew.

Ye Thracian matrons, beat your breasts,

And let cold Hebrus resound to your beating.1895

Lament for Alcides: no longer your children

Are born for the stables; no longer your vitals

Wild horses devour. O ye African lands,

From Antaeus delivered, ye regions of Spain

From Geryon saved, come, weep for your hero.1900

Yea, all ye wretched nations, weep

With me and smite your breasts in woe,

And let your blows be heard afar,

By eastern and by western shores.

Ye dwellers in the whirling sky,

Ye gods above, do ye, too, weep

The fate of Hercules; for he1905

Your heavens upon his shoulders bore,

When Atlas, who was wont to bear

The spangled skies, was eased awhile

Of his vast load. Where now, O Jove,

Is the promised palace of the sky,1910

Those heavenly heights? Alcides dies

And is entombed—the common lot.

How often has he spared for thee

The deadly thunderbolt of wrath!

How seldom wast thou forced to hurl

Thy fires! But hurl 'gainst me at least

One shaft, and think me Semele.1915

And now, O son, hast thou obtained

The fields Elysian, the shore

To which the voice of nature calls

All nations? Or has gloomy Styx

Hemmed in thy way in vengeful wrath

Because of stolen Cerberus,

And in the outer court of Dis1920

Do jealous fates detain thee still?

Oh what a rout among the shades

And frightened manes must there be!

Does Charon flee in his ghostly skiff?

With flying hoofs do the Centaurs rush1925

Through the wandering shades? Does the hydra seek

In fear to plunge his snaky heads

'Neath the murky waves? Do all thy tasks

Hold thee in fear?

Ah me! Ah me!

What foolish, raving madness this!

I am mistaken quite. I know1930

The shades and manes fear thee not;

For neither does the tawny skin

Stripped from the fierce Argolic beast

Protect thy left with its streaming mane,

Nor do its savage teeth surround1935

Thy head. Thy quiver with its darts

Thou hast given away, and a weaker hand

Will aim thy bow. Alas, my son,

Unarmed through the shades thou tak'st thy way;

And with the shades shalt thou dwell for aye.

The Voice of Hercules[sounding from heaven]: Why, since I hold the starry realms of sky,1940And have at last attained a heavenly seat,Dost thou by wailing bid me feel againMortality? Give o'er, since valor nowHas made for me a passage to the gods.

The Voice of Hercules[sounding from heaven]: Why, since I hold the starry realms of sky,1940

And have at last attained a heavenly seat,

Dost thou by wailing bid me feel again

Mortality? Give o'er, since valor now

Has made for me a passage to the gods.

Alcmena[bewildered]: Whence fall upon my startled earsThese sounds? Whence come these thunder tonesThat bid me check my tears? Ah, now1945I know that chaos is o'ercome.From Styx art thou once more returned,O son? And hast thou once againVanquished the grizzly power of death?Hast thou escaped the grim abodeOf death once more, the gloomy poolsWhere sailed the dark infernal skiff?1950Does Acheron's wan stream allowTo thee alone a backward way?And after death has greedy fateNo hold upon thy dauntless soul?Perchance thy way to hell was barredBy Pluto's self, who trembled soreFor his own realm? Upon the pyre1955Of blazing woods I saw thee lie;While to the stars the raging flamesShot up. Thou wast indeed consumed.Then why does not the far abodeOf death retain thy spirit still?1960What part of thee do trembling manes fear?Is e'en thy shade too terrible for Dis?

Alcmena[bewildered]: Whence fall upon my startled ears

These sounds? Whence come these thunder tones

That bid me check my tears? Ah, now1945

I know that chaos is o'ercome.

From Styx art thou once more returned,

O son? And hast thou once again

Vanquished the grizzly power of death?

Hast thou escaped the grim abode

Of death once more, the gloomy pools

Where sailed the dark infernal skiff?1950

Does Acheron's wan stream allow

To thee alone a backward way?

And after death has greedy fate

No hold upon thy dauntless soul?

Perchance thy way to hell was barred

By Pluto's self, who trembled sore

For his own realm? Upon the pyre1955

Of blazing woods I saw thee lie;

While to the stars the raging flames

Shot up. Thou wast indeed consumed.

Then why does not the far abode

Of death retain thy spirit still?1960

What part of thee do trembling manes fear?

Is e'en thy shade too terrible for Dis?

Hercules[his form now taking shape in the air above]: The pools of grim Cocytus hold me not,Nor has the dusky skiff contained my ghost.Then cease thy mourning, mother; once for allHave I beheld the manes and the shades.1965The mortal part of me, the part thou gav'st,Was by the overmastering flames consumed;Thy part to fire, my father's part to heavenHas been consigned. Then cease thy loud laments,Which it were fitting to a worthless sonTo give. To inglorious souls such grief is due;1970For courage heavenward tends; base fear, to death.Hear now, as from the stars I prophesy:Soon shall the bloody king, Eurystheus, payFit penalty to thee for all his deeds;For over his proud head shalt thou be borneIn thy triumphant car. But now 'tis meetThat I return to the celestial realms;1975Alcides once again has conquered hell.

Hercules[his form now taking shape in the air above]: The pools of grim Cocytus hold me not,

Nor has the dusky skiff contained my ghost.

Then cease thy mourning, mother; once for all

Have I beheld the manes and the shades.1965

The mortal part of me, the part thou gav'st,

Was by the overmastering flames consumed;

Thy part to fire, my father's part to heaven

Has been consigned. Then cease thy loud laments,

Which it were fitting to a worthless son

To give. To inglorious souls such grief is due;1970

For courage heavenward tends; base fear, to death.

Hear now, as from the stars I prophesy:

Soon shall the bloody king, Eurystheus, pay

Fit penalty to thee for all his deeds;

For over his proud head shalt thou be borne

In thy triumphant car. But now 'tis meet

That I return to the celestial realms;1975

Alcides once again has conquered hell.

[He vanishes from sight.]

Alcmena:Stay but a little—ah, from my fond eyesHe has departed, gone again to heaven.Am I deceived, and do my eyes but dreamThey saw my son? My soul for very griefIs faithless still. Not so, thou art a god,1980And holdest even now the immortal skies.I trust thy triumph still. But quickly nowUnto the realm of Thebes will I repair,And proudly tell thy new-made godhead there.

Alcmena:Stay but a little—ah, from my fond eyes

He has departed, gone again to heaven.

Am I deceived, and do my eyes but dream

They saw my son? My soul for very grief

Is faithless still. Not so, thou art a god,1980

And holdest even now the immortal skies.

I trust thy triumph still. But quickly now

Unto the realm of Thebes will I repair,

And proudly tell thy new-made godhead there.

[Exit.]

Chorus:Never is glorious manhood borneTo Stygian shades. The brave live on,Nor over Lethe's silent stream1985Shall they by cruel fate be drawn.But when life's days are all consumed,And comes the final hour, for themA pathway to the gods is spreadBy glory.Be thou with us yet,O mighty conqueror of beasts,1990Subduer of the world. Oh, stillHave thought unto this earth of ours.And if some strange, new monster comeAnd fill the nations with his dread,Do thou with forkéd lightnings crushThe beast; yea, hurl thy thunderbolts1995More mightily than Jove himself.

Chorus:Never is glorious manhood borne

To Stygian shades. The brave live on,

Nor over Lethe's silent stream1985

Shall they by cruel fate be drawn.

But when life's days are all consumed,

And comes the final hour, for them

A pathway to the gods is spread

By glory.

Be thou with us yet,

O mighty conqueror of beasts,1990

Subduer of the world. Oh, still

Have thought unto this earth of ours.

And if some strange, new monster come

And fill the nations with his dread,

Do thou with forkéd lightnings crush

The beast; yea, hurl thy thunderbolts1995

More mightily than Jove himself.

FOOTNOTES:[43]Reading,nemus.[44]Reading,vindicem amisi.[45]Reading,terrae atque pelagi.[46]Reading,quod.

[43]Reading,nemus.

[44]Reading,vindicem amisi.

[45]Reading,terrae atque pelagi.

[46]Reading,quod.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

The sceneis laid partly without the city of Argos, and partly within the royal palace.

Pelops, the son of Tantalus, had banished his sons for the murder of their half-brother, Crysippus, with a curse upon them, that they and their posterity might perish by each others' hands. Upon the death of Pelops, Atreus returned and took possession of his father's throne. Thyestes, also, claimed the throne, and sought to gain it by the foulest means. For he seduced his brother's wife, Aërope, and stole by her assistance the magical, gold-fleeced ram from Atreus' flocks, upon the possession of which the right to rule was said to rest. For this act he was banished by the king.

But Atreus has long been meditating a more complete revenge upon his brother; and now in pretended friendship has recalled him from banishment, offering him a place beside himself upon the throne, that thus he may have Thyestes entirely in his power.

The Ghost of Tantalus:Who from th' accurséd regions of the dead,Hath haled me forth, where greedily I striveTo snatch the food that ever doth escapeMy hungry lips? Who now to TantalusDoth show those heavenly seats which once beforeI saw to my undoing? Can it beThat some more fearful suffering than thirstIn sight of water, worse than gaping want,5Hath been devised? Must I the slippery stoneOf Sisyphus upon my shoulders bear?Must I be stretched upon the whirling wheel,Or suffer Tityus' pangs, who, lying proneWithin a huge recess, the grewsome birds10Doth with his quivering, torn-out vitals feed?By night renewing what the day hath lost,He lies, an undiminished feast for all.For what new evil am I now reserved?O thou grim judge of shades, who'er thou artWho to the dead doth mete new punishments!If thou canst still some suffering devise15Whereat grim Cerberus himself would quake,And gloomy Acheron be seized with fear,At whose dread sight e'en I would tremble sore:Seek such a punishment; for from my seedIs sprung a race which shall their house outvie20In sin, shall make me innocent appear,And dare to do what I have never dared.Whatever space within the impious realmsRemains unoccupied, my house shall fill.While lives the race of Pelops on the earth,No rest shall Minos know.The Fury:Thou curséd shade,Be gone, and to the verge of madness driveThine impious house. Be drawn the deadly sword25To every crime upraised, by every hand;Of angry passions let there be no end,No shame of strife; let blinded fury's stingPrick on their souls; seared by the breath of rageMay parents' hearts grow hard, and endless crimeTo childrens' children drag its impious trail.No time be given to hate their former crimes;But let the new in quick succession rise,30Not one alone in each; and may their crimes,E'en while they suffer punishment, increase.Let the throne fall from the haughty brothers' grasp,And call them back from exiled wanderings.Let the tottering fortune of this bloody house,Amid its changing kings in ruins fall.Bring him of high estate to wretchedness,35The wretched raise; and let the kingdom tossUpon the seething tide of circumstance.By crime driven out, when God shall bring them home,May they return but to still other crimes,And by all men as by themselves be loathed.Let nothing be which wrath deems unallowed:Let brother brother fear, and parent child;40Let son fear father; let the children dieAn evil death—by doubly evil birthBe born. Let wives against their husbands liftTheir murderous hands. Let wars pass over seas,And every land be drenched with streams of blood.Triumphant o'er the mighty kings of earth,Let Lust exult; and in thy sinful house,45Let vile, incestuous deeds seem trivial.Let justice, faith, fraternal amityBe trampled underfoot; and of our sinsLet not the heavens themselves escape the taint.Why gleam the constellations in the sky,And flash their wonted glories to the world?50Be pitchy black the night, and let the dayFall fainting from the heavens and be no more.Embroil thy household gods, rouse murderous hate,And all the palace fill with Tantalus.Adorn the lofty columns; let the doors,With verdant laural decked, proclaim their joy;Let torches gleam in celebration meet55Of thy return—then let the Thracian crimeBe done again, but triply hideous.Why stays the uncle's hand in idleness?Not yet Thyestes weeps his murdered sons.When will he act? The kettles o'er the firesShould even now be boiling, severed limbs60Be broken up, the father's hearth be stainedWith children's blood, the festal tables spread.But at no untried carnival of crimeWilt thou sit down as guest. This day be free,And sate thy hunger at that festal board;Go eat thy fill, and drink the blood and wine65Commingled in thy sight. A banquet this,Which thou thyself wouldst look in horror on.—But stay thee. Whither dost thou rush away?Tantalus:Back to my pools and streams and ebbing waves,Back to that tree whose ever-mocking fruitEludes my lips. Oh, let me seek againThe gloomy couch of my old prison-house;70And if too little wretched I appear,Bid me my river change. Within thy stream,O Phlegethon, hemmed round with waves of fire,Let me be left to suffer.Ye, whoe'erBy fate's decrees are doomed to punishment,Whoe'er thou art who 'neath the hollowed cave75Dost lie, in constant fear lest even nowThe cavern's mass shall fall upon thy head;Whoever fears the gaping, greedy jawsOf lions, and in helpless horror looksUpon the advancing furies' cruel lines;Whoe'er, half burned, their threat'ning torches shuns:Oh, listen to the voice of Tantalus80Fast speeding to your realm; believe the wordsOf one who knows, and love your punishment.But now—Oh, when shall it be mine to fleeThis upper world?The Fury:First must thou plunge thy houseIn dire disorders, stir up deadly feuds,Awake the kings to evil lust for blood,And rouse to wild amaze their maddened hearts.Tantalus:'Tis fit that I should suffer, not bestow,85The punishment. But thou wouldst have me go,Like deadly vapor from the riven earth,Or like the plague amongst the people spread,And lead my grandsons into crime most foul.O mighty sire of gods, my sire as well,Although 'tis shame to thee to own me son,90Though cruel tortures seize my tattling tongue,I will not hold my peace:[He cries aloud as to his family.]I warn ye all,Stain not your kindred hands with sacred blood,And with no madman's gifts pollute the shrines.Lo, here I stand, and shall avert the deed.95[To theFury.]Why dost thou fright me with thy brandished scourge,And shake thy writhing serpents in my face?Why in mine inmost marrow dost thou rouseThese gnawing hunger pangs? My very heartIs parched with burning thirst, and leaping flamesDart scorching through my vitals—Oh, desist;I yield me to thy will.100The Fury:Then fix this thirst,This maddening thirst in all thy kindred here;So, e'en as thou, may they be driven onTo quench their thirst each in the others' blood.But lo, thy house perceives thy near approach,And shrinks in horror from thy loathsome touch.But now enough. Do thou go back again105To thine infernal caves and 'customed stream;For here the sad earth groans beneath thy feet.Dost thou not see how, driven far within,The waters flee their springs? how river banksAre empty, and the fiery wind drives onThe scattered clouds? The trees grow sickly pale,Their branches hang denuded of their fruits;110And where but late the Isthmus echoed backThe loud resounding waters near at hand,Their neighboring waves by but a narrow spanDividing, now have all the waves withdrawnFar seaward, and their voice is faintly heardUpon the shore. Now Lerna backward shrinks,115The streams of Inachus have hidden away,The sacred Alpheus sends his waters forthNo longer, and Cithaeron lifts no moreIts hoary head, for all its snows are gone;While they who dwell in noble Argos fearTheir ancient thirst again. E'en Titan's selfStands doubtful whether he shall bid his steeds120Run their accustomed course and bring the day,Foredoomed by thee to perish on the way.

The Ghost of Tantalus:Who from th' accurséd regions of the dead,

Hath haled me forth, where greedily I strive

To snatch the food that ever doth escape

My hungry lips? Who now to Tantalus

Doth show those heavenly seats which once before

I saw to my undoing? Can it be

That some more fearful suffering than thirst

In sight of water, worse than gaping want,5

Hath been devised? Must I the slippery stone

Of Sisyphus upon my shoulders bear?

Must I be stretched upon the whirling wheel,

Or suffer Tityus' pangs, who, lying prone

Within a huge recess, the grewsome birds10

Doth with his quivering, torn-out vitals feed?

By night renewing what the day hath lost,

He lies, an undiminished feast for all.

For what new evil am I now reserved?

O thou grim judge of shades, who'er thou art

Who to the dead doth mete new punishments!

If thou canst still some suffering devise15

Whereat grim Cerberus himself would quake,

And gloomy Acheron be seized with fear,

At whose dread sight e'en I would tremble sore:

Seek such a punishment; for from my seed

Is sprung a race which shall their house outvie20

In sin, shall make me innocent appear,

And dare to do what I have never dared.

Whatever space within the impious realms

Remains unoccupied, my house shall fill.

While lives the race of Pelops on the earth,

No rest shall Minos know.

The Fury:Thou curséd shade,Be gone, and to the verge of madness driveThine impious house. Be drawn the deadly sword25To every crime upraised, by every hand;Of angry passions let there be no end,No shame of strife; let blinded fury's stingPrick on their souls; seared by the breath of rageMay parents' hearts grow hard, and endless crimeTo childrens' children drag its impious trail.No time be given to hate their former crimes;But let the new in quick succession rise,30Not one alone in each; and may their crimes,E'en while they suffer punishment, increase.Let the throne fall from the haughty brothers' grasp,And call them back from exiled wanderings.Let the tottering fortune of this bloody house,Amid its changing kings in ruins fall.Bring him of high estate to wretchedness,35The wretched raise; and let the kingdom tossUpon the seething tide of circumstance.By crime driven out, when God shall bring them home,May they return but to still other crimes,And by all men as by themselves be loathed.Let nothing be which wrath deems unallowed:Let brother brother fear, and parent child;40Let son fear father; let the children dieAn evil death—by doubly evil birthBe born. Let wives against their husbands liftTheir murderous hands. Let wars pass over seas,And every land be drenched with streams of blood.Triumphant o'er the mighty kings of earth,Let Lust exult; and in thy sinful house,45Let vile, incestuous deeds seem trivial.Let justice, faith, fraternal amityBe trampled underfoot; and of our sinsLet not the heavens themselves escape the taint.Why gleam the constellations in the sky,And flash their wonted glories to the world?50Be pitchy black the night, and let the dayFall fainting from the heavens and be no more.Embroil thy household gods, rouse murderous hate,And all the palace fill with Tantalus.Adorn the lofty columns; let the doors,With verdant laural decked, proclaim their joy;Let torches gleam in celebration meet55Of thy return—then let the Thracian crimeBe done again, but triply hideous.Why stays the uncle's hand in idleness?Not yet Thyestes weeps his murdered sons.When will he act? The kettles o'er the firesShould even now be boiling, severed limbs60Be broken up, the father's hearth be stainedWith children's blood, the festal tables spread.But at no untried carnival of crimeWilt thou sit down as guest. This day be free,And sate thy hunger at that festal board;Go eat thy fill, and drink the blood and wine65Commingled in thy sight. A banquet this,Which thou thyself wouldst look in horror on.—But stay thee. Whither dost thou rush away?

The Fury:Thou curséd shade,

Be gone, and to the verge of madness drive

Thine impious house. Be drawn the deadly sword25

To every crime upraised, by every hand;

Of angry passions let there be no end,

No shame of strife; let blinded fury's sting

Prick on their souls; seared by the breath of rage

May parents' hearts grow hard, and endless crime

To childrens' children drag its impious trail.

No time be given to hate their former crimes;

But let the new in quick succession rise,30

Not one alone in each; and may their crimes,

E'en while they suffer punishment, increase.

Let the throne fall from the haughty brothers' grasp,

And call them back from exiled wanderings.

Let the tottering fortune of this bloody house,

Amid its changing kings in ruins fall.

Bring him of high estate to wretchedness,35

The wretched raise; and let the kingdom toss

Upon the seething tide of circumstance.

By crime driven out, when God shall bring them home,

May they return but to still other crimes,

And by all men as by themselves be loathed.

Let nothing be which wrath deems unallowed:

Let brother brother fear, and parent child;40

Let son fear father; let the children die

An evil death—by doubly evil birth

Be born. Let wives against their husbands lift

Their murderous hands. Let wars pass over seas,

And every land be drenched with streams of blood.

Triumphant o'er the mighty kings of earth,

Let Lust exult; and in thy sinful house,45

Let vile, incestuous deeds seem trivial.

Let justice, faith, fraternal amity

Be trampled underfoot; and of our sins

Let not the heavens themselves escape the taint.

Why gleam the constellations in the sky,

And flash their wonted glories to the world?50

Be pitchy black the night, and let the day

Fall fainting from the heavens and be no more.

Embroil thy household gods, rouse murderous hate,

And all the palace fill with Tantalus.

Adorn the lofty columns; let the doors,

With verdant laural decked, proclaim their joy;

Let torches gleam in celebration meet55

Of thy return—then let the Thracian crime

Be done again, but triply hideous.

Why stays the uncle's hand in idleness?

Not yet Thyestes weeps his murdered sons.

When will he act? The kettles o'er the fires

Should even now be boiling, severed limbs60

Be broken up, the father's hearth be stained

With children's blood, the festal tables spread.

But at no untried carnival of crime

Wilt thou sit down as guest. This day be free,

And sate thy hunger at that festal board;

Go eat thy fill, and drink the blood and wine65

Commingled in thy sight. A banquet this,

Which thou thyself wouldst look in horror on.—

But stay thee. Whither dost thou rush away?

Tantalus:Back to my pools and streams and ebbing waves,Back to that tree whose ever-mocking fruitEludes my lips. Oh, let me seek againThe gloomy couch of my old prison-house;70And if too little wretched I appear,Bid me my river change. Within thy stream,O Phlegethon, hemmed round with waves of fire,Let me be left to suffer.Ye, whoe'erBy fate's decrees are doomed to punishment,Whoe'er thou art who 'neath the hollowed cave75Dost lie, in constant fear lest even nowThe cavern's mass shall fall upon thy head;Whoever fears the gaping, greedy jawsOf lions, and in helpless horror looksUpon the advancing furies' cruel lines;Whoe'er, half burned, their threat'ning torches shuns:Oh, listen to the voice of Tantalus80Fast speeding to your realm; believe the wordsOf one who knows, and love your punishment.But now—Oh, when shall it be mine to fleeThis upper world?

Tantalus:Back to my pools and streams and ebbing waves,

Back to that tree whose ever-mocking fruit

Eludes my lips. Oh, let me seek again

The gloomy couch of my old prison-house;70

And if too little wretched I appear,

Bid me my river change. Within thy stream,

O Phlegethon, hemmed round with waves of fire,

Let me be left to suffer.

Ye, whoe'er

By fate's decrees are doomed to punishment,

Whoe'er thou art who 'neath the hollowed cave75

Dost lie, in constant fear lest even now

The cavern's mass shall fall upon thy head;

Whoever fears the gaping, greedy jaws

Of lions, and in helpless horror looks

Upon the advancing furies' cruel lines;

Whoe'er, half burned, their threat'ning torches shuns:

Oh, listen to the voice of Tantalus80

Fast speeding to your realm; believe the words

Of one who knows, and love your punishment.

But now—Oh, when shall it be mine to flee

This upper world?

The Fury:First must thou plunge thy houseIn dire disorders, stir up deadly feuds,Awake the kings to evil lust for blood,And rouse to wild amaze their maddened hearts.

The Fury:First must thou plunge thy house

In dire disorders, stir up deadly feuds,

Awake the kings to evil lust for blood,

And rouse to wild amaze their maddened hearts.

Tantalus:'Tis fit that I should suffer, not bestow,85The punishment. But thou wouldst have me go,Like deadly vapor from the riven earth,Or like the plague amongst the people spread,And lead my grandsons into crime most foul.O mighty sire of gods, my sire as well,Although 'tis shame to thee to own me son,90Though cruel tortures seize my tattling tongue,I will not hold my peace:[He cries aloud as to his family.]I warn ye all,Stain not your kindred hands with sacred blood,And with no madman's gifts pollute the shrines.Lo, here I stand, and shall avert the deed.95[To theFury.]Why dost thou fright me with thy brandished scourge,And shake thy writhing serpents in my face?Why in mine inmost marrow dost thou rouseThese gnawing hunger pangs? My very heartIs parched with burning thirst, and leaping flamesDart scorching through my vitals—Oh, desist;I yield me to thy will.100

Tantalus:'Tis fit that I should suffer, not bestow,85

The punishment. But thou wouldst have me go,

Like deadly vapor from the riven earth,

Or like the plague amongst the people spread,

And lead my grandsons into crime most foul.

O mighty sire of gods, my sire as well,

Although 'tis shame to thee to own me son,90

Though cruel tortures seize my tattling tongue,

I will not hold my peace:

[He cries aloud as to his family.]

I warn ye all,

Stain not your kindred hands with sacred blood,

And with no madman's gifts pollute the shrines.

Lo, here I stand, and shall avert the deed.95

[To theFury.]

Why dost thou fright me with thy brandished scourge,

And shake thy writhing serpents in my face?

Why in mine inmost marrow dost thou rouse

These gnawing hunger pangs? My very heart

Is parched with burning thirst, and leaping flames

Dart scorching through my vitals—Oh, desist;

I yield me to thy will.100

The Fury:Then fix this thirst,This maddening thirst in all thy kindred here;So, e'en as thou, may they be driven onTo quench their thirst each in the others' blood.But lo, thy house perceives thy near approach,And shrinks in horror from thy loathsome touch.But now enough. Do thou go back again105To thine infernal caves and 'customed stream;For here the sad earth groans beneath thy feet.Dost thou not see how, driven far within,The waters flee their springs? how river banksAre empty, and the fiery wind drives onThe scattered clouds? The trees grow sickly pale,Their branches hang denuded of their fruits;110And where but late the Isthmus echoed backThe loud resounding waters near at hand,Their neighboring waves by but a narrow spanDividing, now have all the waves withdrawnFar seaward, and their voice is faintly heardUpon the shore. Now Lerna backward shrinks,115The streams of Inachus have hidden away,The sacred Alpheus sends his waters forthNo longer, and Cithaeron lifts no moreIts hoary head, for all its snows are gone;While they who dwell in noble Argos fearTheir ancient thirst again. E'en Titan's selfStands doubtful whether he shall bid his steeds120Run their accustomed course and bring the day,Foredoomed by thee to perish on the way.

The Fury:Then fix this thirst,

This maddening thirst in all thy kindred here;

So, e'en as thou, may they be driven on

To quench their thirst each in the others' blood.

But lo, thy house perceives thy near approach,

And shrinks in horror from thy loathsome touch.

But now enough. Do thou go back again105

To thine infernal caves and 'customed stream;

For here the sad earth groans beneath thy feet.

Dost thou not see how, driven far within,

The waters flee their springs? how river banks

Are empty, and the fiery wind drives on

The scattered clouds? The trees grow sickly pale,

Their branches hang denuded of their fruits;110

And where but late the Isthmus echoed back

The loud resounding waters near at hand,

Their neighboring waves by but a narrow span

Dividing, now have all the waves withdrawn

Far seaward, and their voice is faintly heard

Upon the shore. Now Lerna backward shrinks,115

The streams of Inachus have hidden away,

The sacred Alpheus sends his waters forth

No longer, and Cithaeron lifts no more

Its hoary head, for all its snows are gone;

While they who dwell in noble Argos fear

Their ancient thirst again. E'en Titan's self

Stands doubtful whether he shall bid his steeds120

Run their accustomed course and bring the day,

Foredoomed by thee to perish on the way.

[They vanish.]

Chorus:If any god for Argos cares,And Pisa's realm for chariots famed;If any loves the Isthmian stateOf Corinth, with its double ports,And two opposing seas;125If any joys in the far-seen snowsOf Mount Taygetus, which lieHeaped on his loftiest peaks what timeThe wintry blasts of Boreas blow,But which the summer melts againWhen breathe the soft Etesian winds,Sail filling; if the Alpheus brightWith its cool, clear stream moves any god,130Far famed for its Olympic course—Let him his peaceful godhead turnTo our affairs; let him avertThis dread inheritance of crime;Forbid that in his grandsire's stepsThe grandson follow, worse than he;And let not worse monstrositiesPlease generations yet to be.135Oh, may at last the impious raceOf thirsty Tantalus give o'erIn utter weariness its lustFor savage deeds. Enough of sin!No longer does the right prevail,And wrong is general. Behold,As Myrtilus his lord betrayed,He, too, was treacherously slain;For by that selfsame broken faith140Which he had shown, himself o'ercome,[47]He fell into the sea and changedIts name for his. Amidst the shipsThat sail the Ionian sea, no taleIs better known.See now, while runs the little sonTo meet his father's kiss, he falls145By that accurséd sword transfixed,Untimely victim at thy hearth,And carved, O Tantalus, by thee,That so thou mightest grace the boardOf friendly gods. That impious feastEternal hunger, endless thirstRewarded; penalty more fit150For such a crime could not be found.See where, with gaping throat, forespent,Stands Tantalus; above his headHang many luscious fruits; but, swiftAs Phineus' birds, they flee his grasp;On every side the tree droops low,With heavy-laden boughs, o'erweighed155By its own fruit, and mockinglySways to his straining lips. Yet he,Though with impatient longing filled,As often mocked, so often failsTo grasp the prize; he turns away160His longing gaze, strains close his lips,And grimly bars his hunger fastBehind his teeth. But still againThe whole grove lets its riches down,And flaunts them in his face, soft fruitsOn drooping boughs, and whets once moreHis hunger, bidding stretch again165His hands—but all in vain. For now,When it has lured him on to hope,And mocked its fill, the boughs recede,And the whole ripe harvest of the woodIs snatched far out of reach.Then comes a raging thirst more fierceThan hunger, which inflames his blood,170And with its parching fires burns upIts moisture. There the poor wretch stands,Striving to quaff the nearby waves;But the fleeing waters whirl away,And leave but the empty bed to himWho seeks to follow. Quick he quaffsAt that swift stream, but to drink—the dust.175

Chorus:If any god for Argos cares,

And Pisa's realm for chariots famed;

If any loves the Isthmian state

Of Corinth, with its double ports,

And two opposing seas;125

If any joys in the far-seen snows

Of Mount Taygetus, which lie

Heaped on his loftiest peaks what time

The wintry blasts of Boreas blow,

But which the summer melts again

When breathe the soft Etesian winds,

Sail filling; if the Alpheus bright

With its cool, clear stream moves any god,130

Far famed for its Olympic course—

Let him his peaceful godhead turn

To our affairs; let him avert

This dread inheritance of crime;

Forbid that in his grandsire's steps

The grandson follow, worse than he;

And let not worse monstrosities

Please generations yet to be.135

Oh, may at last the impious race

Of thirsty Tantalus give o'er

In utter weariness its lust

For savage deeds. Enough of sin!

No longer does the right prevail,

And wrong is general. Behold,

As Myrtilus his lord betrayed,

He, too, was treacherously slain;

For by that selfsame broken faith140

Which he had shown, himself o'ercome,[47]

He fell into the sea and changed

Its name for his. Amidst the ships

That sail the Ionian sea, no tale

Is better known.

See now, while runs the little son

To meet his father's kiss, he falls145

By that accurséd sword transfixed,

Untimely victim at thy hearth,

And carved, O Tantalus, by thee,

That so thou mightest grace the board

Of friendly gods. That impious feast

Eternal hunger, endless thirst

Rewarded; penalty more fit150

For such a crime could not be found.

See where, with gaping throat, forespent,

Stands Tantalus; above his head

Hang many luscious fruits; but, swift

As Phineus' birds, they flee his grasp;

On every side the tree droops low,

With heavy-laden boughs, o'erweighed155

By its own fruit, and mockingly

Sways to his straining lips. Yet he,

Though with impatient longing filled,

As often mocked, so often fails

To grasp the prize; he turns away160

His longing gaze, strains close his lips,

And grimly bars his hunger fast

Behind his teeth. But still again

The whole grove lets its riches down,

And flaunts them in his face, soft fruits

On drooping boughs, and whets once more

His hunger, bidding stretch again165

His hands—but all in vain. For now,

When it has lured him on to hope,

And mocked its fill, the boughs recede,

And the whole ripe harvest of the wood

Is snatched far out of reach.

Then comes a raging thirst more fierce

Than hunger, which inflames his blood,170

And with its parching fires burns up

Its moisture. There the poor wretch stands,

Striving to quaff the nearby waves;

But the fleeing waters whirl away,

And leave but the empty bed to him

Who seeks to follow. Quick he quaffs

At that swift stream, but to drink—the dust.175

FOOTNOTES:[47]Reading,vectus.

[47]Reading,vectus.

Atreus[in soliloquy]: O soul, so sluggish, spiritless, and weak,And (what in kings I deem the last reproach)Still unavenged, after so many crimes,Thy brother's treacheries, and every lawOf nature set at naught, canst vent thy wrathIn vain and meaningless complaints? By nowThe whole wide world should be astir with arms,180Thy arms, and on both seas thy ships of warShould swarm; the fields and town's should be ablaze,And gleaming swords should everywhere be seen.Beneath our charging squadrons' thundering treadLet Greece resound; let this my enemyWithin no forest's depths a hiding find.185No citadel upon the mountain heightsShall shelter him. Let all the citizens,Mycenae leaving, sound the trump of war.Whoe'er grants refuge to that curséd head,Shall die a dreadful death. This noble pile,The home of our illustrious Pelops' line,190I would might fall on me, if only thusIt might destroy my hated brother too.But come, my soul, do what no coming ageShall e'er approve—or e'er forget; some deedMust be attempted, impious, bloody, dire,Such as my brother's self might claim as his.No crime's avenged save by a greater crime.195But where the crime that can surpass his deeds?Is he yet crushed in spirit? Does he showIn prosperous circumstances self-control,Contentment in defeat? Full well I knowHis tameless spirit; it can ne'er be bent—But can be broken. Then, before his force200He strengthens and opposing powers prepares,We must the attack begin, lest, while we wait,He strike us unprepared. For well I knowThat he must either slay me or be slainBy me. There lies the crime between us two:Who leaps to grasp it first, the crime shall do.Attendant:But does the evil fame of such a deedDeter you not?Atreus:The greatest blessing thisOf royal power, that men are forced to praise205Their monarchs' deeds as well as bear them.Attendant:Yea,But they whose praise is forced by fear becomeBy that same fear in turn the bitterest foes.But he who seeks the people's heartfelt praise,Will wish their hearts and not their tongues to speak.210Atreus:True praise may often fall to humble men,But false alone to kings. Let subjects learnTo want what they would not.Attendant:Let monarchs learnTo choose the right; then all will choose the same.Atreus:When kings are forced to choose the right alone,Their rule is insecure.Attendant:Where is no shame,No thought of righteousness, no piety,215No faith, no purity, Oh, then indeedThat rule is insecure.Atreus:But purity,Faith, piety, are private virtues all;With kings, their will is law.Attendant:Oh, count it wrongTo harm thy brother, though he basest be.Atreus:Whatever may not lawfully be done220To brothers, may with perfect right be doneTo him. What is there left me now unstainedBy crime of his? Where has he failed to sin?My wife has he debauched, my kingdom stolen,The ancient emblem of our dynastyBy fraud obtained, and all our royal houseBy that same fraud in dire confusion plunged.There is a flock within our royal stalls,225Rich fleeced and nobly bred, and with the flockA ram, their leader, wondrous, magical;For from his body thickly hangs a fleeceOf fine-spun gold, with which the new-crowned kingsOf Pelops' line are wont t' adorn their scepters.Who owns the ram is king, for with his fate230The fortunes of our noble house are linked.This sacred ram in safety feeds apartWithin a mead whose fateful bounds are fencedBy stony walls, and kept with gate of stone.Him, greatly daring, did my brother steal,Perfidious, with my wife in secret league235Of crime. And this has been the fountain springOf all my woes; throughout my kingdom's lengthHave I a trembling exile wandered long,And found no place of safety from his snares;My wife has he defiled, my subjects' faithAnd loyalty destroyed, my house o'erthrown,All ties of kinship broken, and nothing left240Of which I may be sure save only this—My brother's enmity. Why do I standIn stupid inactivity? At lengthBestir thyself, and gird thy courage up.Think thou on Pelops and on Tantalus;Such deeds as theirs must by my hands be done.[ToAttendant.]Tell thou me then how vengeance may be won.Attendant:Drive out his hostile spirit with the sword.245Atreus:Thou speakest of the end of punishment,But I the punishment itself desire.Let easy-going rulers slay their foes;In my domain death is a longed-for boon.Attendant:Do pious motives stir thee not at all?Atreus:Away, O Piety, if ever thouDidst dwell within my house, and in thy steadLet come dire furies' cohorts, fiends at war,250Megaera holding high in either handHer flaming torch; for with a mighty rage'Tis not enough my heart should be inflamed:I fain would be by greater horrors filled.Attendant:What new design does thy mad soul conceive?Atreus:No deed within the accustomed bounds of grief.255I'll leave no crime undone; and yet no crimeIs bad enough for me.Attendant:Wilt use the sword?Atreus:'Tis not enough.Attendant:The flames?Atreus:Still not enough.Attendant:What weapon then will thy mad passion use?Atreus:Thyestes' self.Attendant:Far worse than madness this.Atreus:I do confess it. Deep within my heart,260A fearful tumult rages unrestrained,And I am hurried on, I know not where;I only know that I am hurried on.From lowest depths a moaning sound is heard,And thunders rumble in the cloudless skies;A crashing noise resounds throughout the houseAs though 'twere rent in twain; upon my hearthThe frightened Lares turn their gaze from me.265Yet this shall be, this awful thing shall be,Ye gods, which ye do fear to think upon.Attendant:What then is this which thou dost meditate?Atreus:Some greater evil lurks within my soul,And, monstrous, swells beyond all human bounds,My sluggish hands impelling to the deed.I know not what it is; but this I know,That 'tis some monstrous deed. So let it be.270Haste thee and do this deed, O soul of mine!'Tis worthy of Thyestes—and of me.Let both perform it then. The Odrysian houseWas wont to look on feasts unspeakable—monstrous thing, 'tis true, but long agoPerformed. This grief of mine some greater sin275Must find to feed upon. Do thou inspireMy heart, O Daulian Procne, who didst knowA mother's and a sister's feelings too.Our cause is similar. Assist thou then,And nerve my hand to act. Let once againA sire with joyous greed his children rend,And hungrily devour their flesh. 'Tis good,'Tis quite enough. This mode of punishmentSo far doth please me well. But where is he?280Why do the hands of Atreus rest so longInactive? Even now before mine eyesThe perfect image of the slaughter comes;I seem to see the murdered children heapedBefore their father's face. O timid soul,Why dost thou fear? Why droops thy courage nowBefore the deed is done? Then up, and dare.Of this mad crime the most revolting part285Thyestes' self shall do.Attendant:But by what wilesShall we unto our snares entice his feet?For he doth count us all his enemies.Atreus:He never could be taken, were his willNot bent on taking too. E'en now he hopesTo take my kingdom from me. In this hope,He'll rush against the bolts of threat'ning Jove;290This hope will make him brave the whirlpools' wrath,And sail within the treacherous Libyan shoals;On this hope stayed, the greatest ill of allWill he have strength to bear—the sight of me.Attendant:But who will give him confidence in peace?To whom will he such weighty credence give?295Atreus:His wicked hope is ready to believe.Yet shall my sons this message bear from me:Now let the wretched exile roam no more,But leave his homeless state for royal halls,And rule at Argos, sharer of my throne.But if Thyestes harshly spurn my prayer,His guileless children, overspent with woes300And easily beguiled, will bend his willUnto their prayers. His ancient thirst for power,Together with his present poverty,And harsh demands of toil will move the man,However stubborn, by their weight of woes.Attendant:But time by now has made his troubles light.305Atreus:Nay; sense of wrong increases day by day.'Tis easy to bear hardship for a time;But to endure it long, an irksome task.Attendant:Choose other servants of thy grim design.Atreus:Young men lend ready ear to base commands.Attendant:Beware, lest what against their uncle now310Thou teachest them, they turn against their sireIn time to come. Full oft do crimes recoilUpon the man who instigated them.Atreus:Though none should teach them fraud and ways of crime,The throne itself would teach them. Dost thou fearLest they grow evil? Evil were they born.What thou dost savage, cruel call in me,Dost deem impossible and impious,315Perchance my brother even now doth plotAgainst myself.Attendant:Shall then thy children knowWhat crime they do?Atreus:Not so, for youthful yearsCannot keep silent faith. They might perchanceBetray the trick. The art of secrecyIs mastered only by the ills of life.Attendant:And wilt thou then deceive the very ones320Through whom thou plann'st another to deceive?Atreus:That so they may themselves be free from guilt.For what the need of implicating themIn crimes of mine? Nay, through my acts aloneMy hate shall work its ends. But hold, my soul,Thou doest ill, thou shrinkest from the task.If thou dost spare thine own, thou sparest his325As well. So then let Agamemnon beThe conscious minister of my designs,And wittingly let Menelaüs helpHis father's plans. And by this test of crime,Let their uncertain birth be put to proof:If they refuse to wage this deadly war,And will not serve my hatred; if they pleadHe is their uncle—then is he their sire.So let them go. But no! a look of fear330Has oft revealed the heart. And weighty plans,E'en 'gainst the stoutest will, betray themselves.They shall not know of how great consequenceTheir mission is.[ToAttendant.]And do thou hide it too.Attendant:No warning do I need, for in my breastIt shall be hid by fear and loyalty.But more shall loyalty prevail with me.335

Atreus[in soliloquy]: O soul, so sluggish, spiritless, and weak,

And (what in kings I deem the last reproach)

Still unavenged, after so many crimes,

Thy brother's treacheries, and every law

Of nature set at naught, canst vent thy wrath

In vain and meaningless complaints? By now

The whole wide world should be astir with arms,180

Thy arms, and on both seas thy ships of war

Should swarm; the fields and town's should be ablaze,

And gleaming swords should everywhere be seen.

Beneath our charging squadrons' thundering tread

Let Greece resound; let this my enemy

Within no forest's depths a hiding find.185

No citadel upon the mountain heights

Shall shelter him. Let all the citizens,

Mycenae leaving, sound the trump of war.

Whoe'er grants refuge to that curséd head,

Shall die a dreadful death. This noble pile,

The home of our illustrious Pelops' line,190

I would might fall on me, if only thus

It might destroy my hated brother too.

But come, my soul, do what no coming age

Shall e'er approve—or e'er forget; some deed

Must be attempted, impious, bloody, dire,

Such as my brother's self might claim as his.

No crime's avenged save by a greater crime.195

But where the crime that can surpass his deeds?

Is he yet crushed in spirit? Does he show

In prosperous circumstances self-control,

Contentment in defeat? Full well I know

His tameless spirit; it can ne'er be bent—

But can be broken. Then, before his force200

He strengthens and opposing powers prepares,

We must the attack begin, lest, while we wait,

He strike us unprepared. For well I know

That he must either slay me or be slain

By me. There lies the crime between us two:

Who leaps to grasp it first, the crime shall do.

Attendant:But does the evil fame of such a deedDeter you not?

Attendant:But does the evil fame of such a deed

Deter you not?

Atreus:The greatest blessing thisOf royal power, that men are forced to praise205Their monarchs' deeds as well as bear them.

Atreus:The greatest blessing this

Of royal power, that men are forced to praise205

Their monarchs' deeds as well as bear them.

Attendant:Yea,But they whose praise is forced by fear becomeBy that same fear in turn the bitterest foes.But he who seeks the people's heartfelt praise,Will wish their hearts and not their tongues to speak.210

Attendant:Yea,

But they whose praise is forced by fear become

By that same fear in turn the bitterest foes.

But he who seeks the people's heartfelt praise,

Will wish their hearts and not their tongues to speak.210

Atreus:True praise may often fall to humble men,But false alone to kings. Let subjects learnTo want what they would not.

Atreus:True praise may often fall to humble men,

But false alone to kings. Let subjects learn

To want what they would not.

Attendant:Let monarchs learnTo choose the right; then all will choose the same.

Attendant:Let monarchs learn

To choose the right; then all will choose the same.

Atreus:When kings are forced to choose the right alone,Their rule is insecure.

Atreus:When kings are forced to choose the right alone,

Their rule is insecure.

Attendant:Where is no shame,No thought of righteousness, no piety,215No faith, no purity, Oh, then indeedThat rule is insecure.

Attendant:Where is no shame,

No thought of righteousness, no piety,215

No faith, no purity, Oh, then indeed

That rule is insecure.

Atreus:But purity,Faith, piety, are private virtues all;With kings, their will is law.

Atreus:But purity,

Faith, piety, are private virtues all;

With kings, their will is law.

Attendant:Oh, count it wrongTo harm thy brother, though he basest be.

Attendant:Oh, count it wrong

To harm thy brother, though he basest be.

Atreus:Whatever may not lawfully be done220To brothers, may with perfect right be doneTo him. What is there left me now unstainedBy crime of his? Where has he failed to sin?My wife has he debauched, my kingdom stolen,The ancient emblem of our dynastyBy fraud obtained, and all our royal houseBy that same fraud in dire confusion plunged.There is a flock within our royal stalls,225Rich fleeced and nobly bred, and with the flockA ram, their leader, wondrous, magical;For from his body thickly hangs a fleeceOf fine-spun gold, with which the new-crowned kingsOf Pelops' line are wont t' adorn their scepters.Who owns the ram is king, for with his fate230The fortunes of our noble house are linked.This sacred ram in safety feeds apartWithin a mead whose fateful bounds are fencedBy stony walls, and kept with gate of stone.Him, greatly daring, did my brother steal,Perfidious, with my wife in secret league235Of crime. And this has been the fountain springOf all my woes; throughout my kingdom's lengthHave I a trembling exile wandered long,And found no place of safety from his snares;My wife has he defiled, my subjects' faithAnd loyalty destroyed, my house o'erthrown,All ties of kinship broken, and nothing left240Of which I may be sure save only this—My brother's enmity. Why do I standIn stupid inactivity? At lengthBestir thyself, and gird thy courage up.Think thou on Pelops and on Tantalus;Such deeds as theirs must by my hands be done.[ToAttendant.]Tell thou me then how vengeance may be won.

Atreus:Whatever may not lawfully be done220

To brothers, may with perfect right be done

To him. What is there left me now unstained

By crime of his? Where has he failed to sin?

My wife has he debauched, my kingdom stolen,

The ancient emblem of our dynasty

By fraud obtained, and all our royal house

By that same fraud in dire confusion plunged.

There is a flock within our royal stalls,225

Rich fleeced and nobly bred, and with the flock

A ram, their leader, wondrous, magical;

For from his body thickly hangs a fleece

Of fine-spun gold, with which the new-crowned kings

Of Pelops' line are wont t' adorn their scepters.

Who owns the ram is king, for with his fate230

The fortunes of our noble house are linked.

This sacred ram in safety feeds apart

Within a mead whose fateful bounds are fenced

By stony walls, and kept with gate of stone.

Him, greatly daring, did my brother steal,

Perfidious, with my wife in secret league235

Of crime. And this has been the fountain spring

Of all my woes; throughout my kingdom's length

Have I a trembling exile wandered long,

And found no place of safety from his snares;

My wife has he defiled, my subjects' faith

And loyalty destroyed, my house o'erthrown,

All ties of kinship broken, and nothing left240

Of which I may be sure save only this—

My brother's enmity. Why do I stand

In stupid inactivity? At length

Bestir thyself, and gird thy courage up.

Think thou on Pelops and on Tantalus;

Such deeds as theirs must by my hands be done.

[ToAttendant.]

Tell thou me then how vengeance may be won.

Attendant:Drive out his hostile spirit with the sword.245

Atreus:Thou speakest of the end of punishment,But I the punishment itself desire.Let easy-going rulers slay their foes;In my domain death is a longed-for boon.

Atreus:Thou speakest of the end of punishment,

But I the punishment itself desire.

Let easy-going rulers slay their foes;

In my domain death is a longed-for boon.

Attendant:Do pious motives stir thee not at all?

Atreus:Away, O Piety, if ever thouDidst dwell within my house, and in thy steadLet come dire furies' cohorts, fiends at war,250Megaera holding high in either handHer flaming torch; for with a mighty rage'Tis not enough my heart should be inflamed:I fain would be by greater horrors filled.

Atreus:Away, O Piety, if ever thou

Didst dwell within my house, and in thy stead

Let come dire furies' cohorts, fiends at war,250

Megaera holding high in either hand

Her flaming torch; for with a mighty rage

'Tis not enough my heart should be inflamed:

I fain would be by greater horrors filled.

Attendant:What new design does thy mad soul conceive?

Atreus:No deed within the accustomed bounds of grief.255I'll leave no crime undone; and yet no crimeIs bad enough for me.

Atreus:No deed within the accustomed bounds of grief.255

I'll leave no crime undone; and yet no crime

Is bad enough for me.

Attendant:Wilt use the sword?

Atreus:'Tis not enough.

Attendant:The flames?

Atreus:Still not enough.

Attendant:What weapon then will thy mad passion use?

Atreus:Thyestes' self.

Attendant:Far worse than madness this.

Atreus:I do confess it. Deep within my heart,260A fearful tumult rages unrestrained,And I am hurried on, I know not where;I only know that I am hurried on.From lowest depths a moaning sound is heard,And thunders rumble in the cloudless skies;A crashing noise resounds throughout the houseAs though 'twere rent in twain; upon my hearthThe frightened Lares turn their gaze from me.265Yet this shall be, this awful thing shall be,Ye gods, which ye do fear to think upon.

Atreus:I do confess it. Deep within my heart,260

A fearful tumult rages unrestrained,

And I am hurried on, I know not where;

I only know that I am hurried on.

From lowest depths a moaning sound is heard,

And thunders rumble in the cloudless skies;

A crashing noise resounds throughout the house

As though 'twere rent in twain; upon my hearth

The frightened Lares turn their gaze from me.265

Yet this shall be, this awful thing shall be,

Ye gods, which ye do fear to think upon.

Attendant:What then is this which thou dost meditate?

Atreus:Some greater evil lurks within my soul,And, monstrous, swells beyond all human bounds,My sluggish hands impelling to the deed.I know not what it is; but this I know,That 'tis some monstrous deed. So let it be.270Haste thee and do this deed, O soul of mine!'Tis worthy of Thyestes—and of me.Let both perform it then. The Odrysian houseWas wont to look on feasts unspeakable—monstrous thing, 'tis true, but long agoPerformed. This grief of mine some greater sin275Must find to feed upon. Do thou inspireMy heart, O Daulian Procne, who didst knowA mother's and a sister's feelings too.Our cause is similar. Assist thou then,And nerve my hand to act. Let once againA sire with joyous greed his children rend,And hungrily devour their flesh. 'Tis good,'Tis quite enough. This mode of punishmentSo far doth please me well. But where is he?280Why do the hands of Atreus rest so longInactive? Even now before mine eyesThe perfect image of the slaughter comes;I seem to see the murdered children heapedBefore their father's face. O timid soul,Why dost thou fear? Why droops thy courage nowBefore the deed is done? Then up, and dare.Of this mad crime the most revolting part285Thyestes' self shall do.

Atreus:Some greater evil lurks within my soul,

And, monstrous, swells beyond all human bounds,

My sluggish hands impelling to the deed.

I know not what it is; but this I know,

That 'tis some monstrous deed. So let it be.270

Haste thee and do this deed, O soul of mine!

'Tis worthy of Thyestes—and of me.

Let both perform it then. The Odrysian house

Was wont to look on feasts unspeakable—

monstrous thing, 'tis true, but long ago

Performed. This grief of mine some greater sin275

Must find to feed upon. Do thou inspire

My heart, O Daulian Procne, who didst know

A mother's and a sister's feelings too.

Our cause is similar. Assist thou then,

And nerve my hand to act. Let once again

A sire with joyous greed his children rend,

And hungrily devour their flesh. 'Tis good,

'Tis quite enough. This mode of punishment

So far doth please me well. But where is he?280

Why do the hands of Atreus rest so long

Inactive? Even now before mine eyes

The perfect image of the slaughter comes;

I seem to see the murdered children heaped

Before their father's face. O timid soul,

Why dost thou fear? Why droops thy courage now

Before the deed is done? Then up, and dare.

Of this mad crime the most revolting part285

Thyestes' self shall do.

Attendant:But by what wilesShall we unto our snares entice his feet?For he doth count us all his enemies.

Attendant:But by what wiles

Shall we unto our snares entice his feet?

For he doth count us all his enemies.

Atreus:He never could be taken, were his willNot bent on taking too. E'en now he hopesTo take my kingdom from me. In this hope,He'll rush against the bolts of threat'ning Jove;290This hope will make him brave the whirlpools' wrath,And sail within the treacherous Libyan shoals;On this hope stayed, the greatest ill of allWill he have strength to bear—the sight of me.

Atreus:He never could be taken, were his will

Not bent on taking too. E'en now he hopes

To take my kingdom from me. In this hope,

He'll rush against the bolts of threat'ning Jove;290

This hope will make him brave the whirlpools' wrath,

And sail within the treacherous Libyan shoals;

On this hope stayed, the greatest ill of all

Will he have strength to bear—the sight of me.

Attendant:But who will give him confidence in peace?To whom will he such weighty credence give?295

Attendant:But who will give him confidence in peace?

To whom will he such weighty credence give?295

Atreus:His wicked hope is ready to believe.Yet shall my sons this message bear from me:Now let the wretched exile roam no more,But leave his homeless state for royal halls,And rule at Argos, sharer of my throne.But if Thyestes harshly spurn my prayer,His guileless children, overspent with woes300And easily beguiled, will bend his willUnto their prayers. His ancient thirst for power,Together with his present poverty,And harsh demands of toil will move the man,However stubborn, by their weight of woes.

Atreus:His wicked hope is ready to believe.

Yet shall my sons this message bear from me:

Now let the wretched exile roam no more,

But leave his homeless state for royal halls,

And rule at Argos, sharer of my throne.

But if Thyestes harshly spurn my prayer,

His guileless children, overspent with woes300

And easily beguiled, will bend his will

Unto their prayers. His ancient thirst for power,

Together with his present poverty,

And harsh demands of toil will move the man,

However stubborn, by their weight of woes.

Attendant:But time by now has made his troubles light.305

Atreus:Nay; sense of wrong increases day by day.'Tis easy to bear hardship for a time;But to endure it long, an irksome task.

Atreus:Nay; sense of wrong increases day by day.

'Tis easy to bear hardship for a time;

But to endure it long, an irksome task.

Attendant:Choose other servants of thy grim design.

Atreus:Young men lend ready ear to base commands.

Attendant:Beware, lest what against their uncle now310Thou teachest them, they turn against their sireIn time to come. Full oft do crimes recoilUpon the man who instigated them.

Attendant:Beware, lest what against their uncle now310

Thou teachest them, they turn against their sire

In time to come. Full oft do crimes recoil

Upon the man who instigated them.

Atreus:Though none should teach them fraud and ways of crime,The throne itself would teach them. Dost thou fearLest they grow evil? Evil were they born.What thou dost savage, cruel call in me,Dost deem impossible and impious,315Perchance my brother even now doth plotAgainst myself.

Atreus:Though none should teach them fraud and ways of crime,

The throne itself would teach them. Dost thou fear

Lest they grow evil? Evil were they born.

What thou dost savage, cruel call in me,

Dost deem impossible and impious,315

Perchance my brother even now doth plot

Against myself.

Attendant:Shall then thy children knowWhat crime they do?

Attendant:Shall then thy children know

What crime they do?

Atreus:Not so, for youthful yearsCannot keep silent faith. They might perchanceBetray the trick. The art of secrecyIs mastered only by the ills of life.

Atreus:Not so, for youthful years

Cannot keep silent faith. They might perchance

Betray the trick. The art of secrecy

Is mastered only by the ills of life.

Attendant:And wilt thou then deceive the very ones320Through whom thou plann'st another to deceive?

Attendant:And wilt thou then deceive the very ones320

Through whom thou plann'st another to deceive?

Atreus:That so they may themselves be free from guilt.For what the need of implicating themIn crimes of mine? Nay, through my acts aloneMy hate shall work its ends. But hold, my soul,Thou doest ill, thou shrinkest from the task.If thou dost spare thine own, thou sparest his325As well. So then let Agamemnon beThe conscious minister of my designs,And wittingly let Menelaüs helpHis father's plans. And by this test of crime,Let their uncertain birth be put to proof:If they refuse to wage this deadly war,And will not serve my hatred; if they pleadHe is their uncle—then is he their sire.So let them go. But no! a look of fear330Has oft revealed the heart. And weighty plans,E'en 'gainst the stoutest will, betray themselves.They shall not know of how great consequenceTheir mission is.[ToAttendant.]And do thou hide it too.

Atreus:That so they may themselves be free from guilt.

For what the need of implicating them

In crimes of mine? Nay, through my acts alone

My hate shall work its ends. But hold, my soul,

Thou doest ill, thou shrinkest from the task.

If thou dost spare thine own, thou sparest his325

As well. So then let Agamemnon be

The conscious minister of my designs,

And wittingly let Menelaüs help

His father's plans. And by this test of crime,

Let their uncertain birth be put to proof:

If they refuse to wage this deadly war,

And will not serve my hatred; if they plead

He is their uncle—then is he their sire.

So let them go. But no! a look of fear330

Has oft revealed the heart. And weighty plans,

E'en 'gainst the stoutest will, betray themselves.

They shall not know of how great consequence

Their mission is.

[ToAttendant.]

And do thou hide it too.

Attendant:No warning do I need, for in my breastIt shall be hid by fear and loyalty.But more shall loyalty prevail with me.335

Attendant:No warning do I need, for in my breast

It shall be hid by fear and loyalty.

But more shall loyalty prevail with me.335

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