Ere Is Aias To Receive My Word? Tidings Are Best Told To The Rightful Ear. Ch. Not In The Hut, But Just Gone Forth, Preparing New Plans To Suit His Newly Altered Mind. Mess. Alas! Too Tardy Then Was He Who Sped Me Hither; Or I Have Proved Too Slow A Messenger. Ch. What Point Is Lacking For Thine Errand'S Speed? Mess. Teucer Was Resolute The Man Should Bide Close Held Within-Doors Till Himself Should Come. Ch. Why, Sure His Going Took The Happiest Turn And Wisest, To Propitiate Heaven'S High Wrath. Mess. The Height Of Folly Lives In Such Discourse, If Calchas Have The Wisdom Of A Seer. Ch. What Knowest Thou Of Our State? What Saith He? Tell. Mess. I Can Tell Only What I Heard And Saw. Whilst All The Chieftains And The Atridae Twain Were Seated In A Ring, Calchas Alone Rose Up And Left Them, And In Teucer'S Palm Laid His Right Hand Full Friendly; Then Out-Spake With Strict Injunction By All Means I' The World To Keep Beneath Yon Covert This One Day Your Hero, And Not Suffer Him To Rove, If He Would See Him Any More Alive. For Through This Present Light--And Ne'er Again--- Holy Athena, So He Said, Will Drive Him Before Her Anger. Such Calamitous Woe Strikes Down The Unprofitable Growth That Mounts Beyond His Measure And Provokes The Sky. 'Thus Ever,' Said The Prophet, 'Must He Fall Who In Man'S Mould Hath Thoughts Beyond A Man. And Aias, Ere He Left His Father'S Door, Made Foolish Answer To His Prudent Sire. 'My Son,' Said Telamon, 'Choose Victory Always, But Victory With An Aid From Heaven.' How Loftily, How Madly, He Replied! 'Father, With Heavenly Help Men Nothing Worth May Win Success. But I Am Confident Without The Gods To Pluck This Glory Down.' So Huge The Boast He Vaunted! And Again When Holy Pallas Urged Him With Her Voice To Hurl His Deadly Spear Against The Foe, He Turned On Her With Speech Of Awful Sound: 'Goddess, By Other Greeks Take Thou Thy Stand; Where I Keep Rank, The Battle Ne'er Shall Break.' Such Words Of Pride Beyond The Mortal Scope Have Won Him Pallas' Wrath, Unlovely Meed. But Yet, Perchance, So Be It He Live To-Day, We, With Heaven'S Succour, May Restore His Peace.'-- Thus Far The Prophet, When Immediately Teucer Dispatched Me, Ere The Assembly Rose, Bearing To Thee This Missive To Be Kept With All Thy Care. But If My Speed Be Lost, And Calchas' Word Have Power, The Man Is Dead. Ch. O Trouble-Tost Tecmessa, Born To Woe, Come Forth And See What Messenger Is Here! This News Bites Near The Bone, A Death To Joy. Enter Tecmessa. Tec. Wherefore Again, When Sorrow'S Cruel Storm Was Just Abating, Break Ye My Repose? Ch. (Pointing To The Messenger). Hear What He Saith, And How He Comes To Bring News Of Our Aias That Hath Torn My Heart. Tec. Oh Me! What Is It, Man? Am I Undone? Mess. Thy Case I Know Not; But Of Aias This, That If He Roam Abroad, 'Tis Dangerous. Tec. He Is, Indeed, Abroad. Oh! Tell Me Quickly! Mess. 'Tis Teucer'S Strong Command To Keep Him Close Beneath This Roof, Nor Let Him Range Alone. Tec. But Where Is Teucer? And What Means His Word? Mess. Even Now At Hand, And Eager To Make Known That Aias, If He Thus Go Forth, Must Fall. Tec. Alas! My Misery! Whence Learned He This? Mess. From Thestor'S Prophet-Offspring, Who To-Day Holds Forth To Aias Choice Of Life Or Death. Tec. Woe'S Me! O Friends, This Desolating Blow Is Falling! Oh, Stand Forward To Prevent! And Some Bring Teucer With More Haste, While Some Explore The Western Bays And Others Search Eastward To Find Your Hero'S Fatal Path! For Well I See I Am Cheated And Cast Forth From The Old Favour. Child, What Shall I Do? [Looking At Eurysakes We Must Not Stay. I Too Will Fare Along, Go Far As I Have Power. Come, Let Us Go. Bestir Ye! 'Tis No Moment To Sit Still, If We Would Save Him Who Now Speeds To Die. Ch. I Am Ready. Come! Fidelity Of Foot, And Swift Performance, Shall Approve Me True. [Exeunt Omnes The Scene Changes To A Lonely Wooded Spot. Aias (Discovered Alone). The Sacrificer Stands Prepared,--And When More Keen? Let Me Take Time For Thinking, Too! This Gift Of Hector, Whom Of Stranger Men I Hated Most With Heart And Eyes, Is Set In Hostile Trojan Soil, With Grinding Hone Fresh-Pointed, And Here Planted By My Care Thus Firm, To Give Me Swift And Friendly Death. Fine Instrument, So Much For Thee! Then, First, Thou, For 'Tis Meet, Great Father, Lend Thine Aid. For No Great Gift I Sue Thee. Let Some Voice Bear Teucer The Ill News, That None But He May Lift My Body, Newly Fallen In Death About My Bleeding Sword, Ere I Be Spied By Some Of Those Who Hate Me, And Be Flung To Dogs And Vultures For An Outcast Prey. So Far I Entreat Thee, Lord Of Heaven. And Thou, Hermes, Conductor Of The Shadowy Dead, Speed Me To Rest, And When With This Sharp Steel I Have Cleft A Sudden Passage To My Heart, At One Swift Bound Waft Me To Painless Slumber! But Most Be Ye My Helpers, Awful Powers, Who Know No Blandishments, But Still Perceive All Wicked Deeds I' The World--Strong, Swift, And Sure, Avenging Furies, Understand My Wrong, See How My Life Is Ruined, And By Whom. Come, Ravin On Achaean Flesh--Spare None; Rage Through The Camp!--Last, Thou That Driv'St Thy Course Up Yon Steep Heaven, Thou Sun, When Thou Behold'St My Fatherland, Checking Thy Golden Rein, Report My Fall, And This My Fatal End, To My Old Sire, And The Poor Soul Who Tends Him. Ah, Hapless One! When She Shall Hear This Word, How She Will Make The City Ring With Woe! 'Twere From The Business Idly To Condole. To Work, Then, And Dispatch. O Death! O Death! Now Come, And Welcome! Yet With Thee, Hereafter, I Shall Find Close Communion Where I Go. But Unto Thee, Fresh Beam Of Shining Day, And Thee, Thou Travelling Sun-God, I May Speak Now, And No More For Ever. O Fair Light! O Sacred Fields Of Salamis My Home! Thou, Firm Set Natal Hearth: Athens Renowned, And Ye Her People Whom I Love; O Rivers, Brooks, Fountains Here--Yea, Even The Trojan Plain I Now Invoke!--Kind Fosterers, Farewell! This One Last Word From Aias Peals To You: Henceforth My Speech Will Be With Souls Unseen. [Falls On His Sword Chorus (Re-Entering Severally). Ch. A. Toil Upon Toil Brings Toil, And What Save Trouble Have I? Which Path Have I Not Tried? And Never A Place Arrests Me With Its Tale. Hark! Lo, Again A Sound! Ch. B. 'Tis We, The Comrades Of Your Good Ship'S Crew. Ch. A. Well, Sirs? Ch. B. We Have Trodden All The Westward Arm O' The Bay. Ch. A. Well, Have Ye Found? Ch. B. Troubles Enow, But Nought To Inform Our Sight. Ch. A. Nor Yet Along The Road That Fronts The Dawn Is Any Sign Of Aias To Be Seen. Ch. Who Then Will Tell Me, Who? What Hard Sea-Liver, 1 What Toiling Fisher In His Sleepless Quest, What Mysian Nymph, What Oozy Thracian River, Hath Seen Our Wanderer Of The Tameless Breast? Where? Tell Me Where! 'Tis Hard That I, Far-Toiling Voyager, Crossed By Some Evil Wind, Cannot The Haven Find, Nor Catch His Form That Flies Me, Where? Ah! Where? Tec. (Behind). Oh, Woe Is Me! Woe, Woe! Ch. A. Who Cries There From The Covert Of The Grove? Tec. O Boundless Misery! Ch. B. Steeped In This Audible Sorrow I Behold Tecmessa, Poor Fate-Burdened Bride Of War. Tec. Friends, I Am Spoiled, Lost, Ruined, Overthrown! Ch. A. What Ails Thee Now? Tec. See Where Our Aias Lies, But Newly Slain, Fallen On His Sword Concealed Within The Ground, Ch. Woe For My Hopes Of Home! Aias, My Lord, Thou Hast Slain Thy Ship-Companion On The Salt Sea Foam. Alas For Us, And Thee, Child Of Calamity! Tec. So Lies Our Fortune. Well May'St Thou Complain. Ch. A. Whose Hand Employed He For The Deed Of Blood? Tec. His Own, 'Tis Manifest. This Planted Steel, Fixed By His Hand, Gives Verdict From His Breast. Ch. Woe For My Fault, My Loss! Thou Hast Fallen In Blood Alone, And Not A Friend To Cross Or Guard Thee. I, Deaf, Senseless As A Stone, Left All Undone. Oh, Where, Then, Lies The Stern Aias, Of Saddest Name, Whose Purpose None Might Turn? Tec. No Eye Shall See Him. I Will Veil Him Round With This All Covering Mantle; Since No Heart That Loved Him Could Endure To View Him There, With Ghastly Expiration Spouting Forth From Mouth And Nostrils, And The Deadly Wound, The Gore Of His Self Slaughter. Ah, My Lord! What Shall I Do? What Friend Will Carry Thee? Oh, Where Is Teucer! Timely Were His Hand, Might He Come Now To Smooth His Brother'S Corse. O Thou Most Noble, Here Ignobly Laid, Even Enemies Methinks Must Mourn Thy Fate! Ch. Ah! 'Twas Too Clear Thy Firm Knit Thoughts Would Fashion, 2 Early Or Late, An End Of Boundless Woe! Such Heaving Groans, Such Bursts Of Heart-Bruised Passion, Midnight And Morn, Bewrayed The Fire Below. 'The Atridae Might Beware!' A Plenteous Fount Of Pain Was Opened There, What Time The Strife Was Set, Wherein The Noblest Met, Grappling The Golden Prize That Kindled Thy Despair! Tec. Woe, Woe Is Me! Ch. Deep Sorrow Wrings Thy Soul, I Know It Well. Tec. O Woe, Woe, Woe! Ch. Thou May'St Prolong Thy Moan, And Be Believed, Thou That Hast Lately Lost So True A Friend. Tec. Thou May'St Imagine; 'Tis For Me To Know. Ch. Ay, Ay, 'Tis True. Tec. Alas, My Child! What Slavish Tasks And Hard We Are Drifting To! What Eyes Control Our Will! Ch. Ay Me! Through Thy Complaint I Hear The Wordless Blow Of Two High-Throned, Who Rule Without Restraint Of Pity. Heaven Forfend What Evil They Intend! Tec. The Work Of Heaven Hath Brought Our Life Thus Low. Ch. 'Tis A Sore Burden To Be Laid On Men. Tec. Yet Such The Mischief Zeus' Resistless Maid, Pallas, Hath Planned To Make Odysseus Glad. Ch. O'Er That Dark-Featured Soul What Waves Of Pride Shall Roll, What Floods Of Laughter Flow, Rudely To Greet This Madness-Prompted Woe, Alas! From Him Who All Things Dares Endure, And From That Lordly Pair, Who Hear, And Seat Them Sure! Tec. Ay, Let Them Laugh And Revel O'Er His Fall! Perchance, Albeit In Life They Missed Him Not, Dead, They Will Cry For Him In Straits Of War. For Dullards Know Not Goodness In Their Hand, Nor Prize The Jewel Till 'Tis Cast Away. To Me More Bitter Than To Them 'Twas Sweet, His Death To Him Was Gladsome, For He Found The Lot He Longed For, His Self-Chosen Doom. What Cause Have They To Laugh? Heaven, Not Their Crew, Hath Glory By His Death. Then Let Odysseus Insult With Empty Pride. To Him And His Aias Is Nothing; But To Me, To Me, He Leaves Distress And Sorrow In His Room! Teucer (Within). Alas, Undone! Leader Of Ch. Hush! That Was Teucer'S Cry. Methought I Heard His Voice Salute This Object Of Dire Woe. Enter Teucer. Teu. Aias, Dear Brother, Comfort Of Mine Eye, Hast Thou Then Done Even As The Rumour Holds? Ch. Be Sure Of That, Teucer. He Lives No More. Teu. Oh, Then How Heavy Is The Lot I Bear! Ch. Yes, Thou Hast Cause-- Teu. O Rash Assault Of Woe!-- Ch. To Mourn Full Loud. Teu. Ay Me! And Where, Oh Where On Trojan Earth, Tell Me, Is This Man'S Child? Ch. Beside The Huts, Untended. Teu. (To Tec). Oh, With Haste Go Bring Him Hither, Lest Some Enemy'S Hand Snatch Him, As From The Lion'S Widowed Mate The Lion-Whelp Is Taken. Spare Not Speed. All Soon Combine In Mockery O'Er The Dead. [Exit Tecmessa Ch. Even Such Commands He Left Thee Ere He Died. As Thou Fulfillest By This Timely Care. Teu. O Sorest Spectacle Mine Eyes E'Er Saw! Woe For My Journey Hither, Of All Ways Most Grievous To My Heart, Since I Was Ware, Dear Aias, Of Thy Doom, And Sadly Tracked Thy Footsteps. For There Darted Through The Host, As From Some God, A Swift Report Of Thee That Thou Wert Lost In Death. I, Hapless, Heard, And Mourned Even Then For That Whose Presence Kills Me. Ay Me! But Come, Unveil. Let Me Behold My Misery. [The Corpse Of Aias Is Uncovered O Sight Unbearable! Cruelly Brave! Dying, What Store Of Griefs Thou Sow'St For Me! Where, Amongst Whom Of Mortals, Can I Go, That Stood Not Near Thee In Thy Troublous Hour? Will Telamon, My Sire And Thine, Receive Me With Radiant Countenance And Favouring Brow Returning Without Thee? Most Like! Being One Who Smiles No More[4], Yield Fortune What She May. Will He Hide Aught Or Soften Any Word, Rating The Bastard Of His Spear-Won Thrall, Whose Cowardice And Dastardy Betrayed Thy Life, Dear Aias,--Or My Murderous Guile, To Rob Thee Of Thy Lordship And Thy Home? Such Greeting Waits Me From The Man Of Wrath, Whose Testy Age Even Without Cause Would Storm. Last, I Shall Leave My Land A Castaway, Thrust Forth An Exile, And Proclaimed A Slave; So Should I Fare At Home. And Here In Troy My Foes Are Many And My Comforts Few. All These Things Are My Portion Through Thy Death. Woe'S Me, My Heart! How Shall I Bear To Draw Thee, O Thou Ill-Starr'D! From This Discoloured Blade, Thy Self-Shown Slayer? Didst Thou Then Perceive Dead Hector Was At Length To Be Thine End?-- I Pray You All, Consider These Two Men. Hector, Whose Gift From Aias Was A Girdle, Tight-Braced Therewith To The Car'S Rim, Was Dragged And Scarified Till He Breathed Forth His Life. And Aias With This Present From His Foe Finds Through Such Means His Death-Fall And His Doom. Say Then What Cruel Workman Forged The Gifts, But Fury This Sharp Sword, Hell That Bright Band? In This, And All Things Human, I Maintain, Gods Are The Artificers. My Thought Is Said. And If There Be Who Cares Not For My Thought, Let Him Hold Fast His Faith And Leave Me Mine. Ch. Spare Longer Speech, And Think How To Secure Thy Brother'S Burial, And What Plea Will Serve; Since One Comes Here Hath No Good Will To Us And Like A Villain Haply Comes In Scorn. Teu. What Man Of All The Host Hath Caught Thine Eye? Ch. The Cause For Whom We Sailed, The Spartan King. Teu. Yes; I Discern Him, Now He Moves More Near. Enter Menelaus. Menelaus. Fellow, Give O'Er. Cease Tending Yon Dead Man! Obey My Voice, And Leave Him Where He Lies. Teu. Thy Potent Cause For Spending So Much Breath? Men. My Will, And His Whose Word Is Sovereign Here. Teu. May We Not Know The Reasons Of Your Will? Men. Because He, Whom We Trusted To Have Brought To Lend Us Loyal Help With Heart And Hand, Proved In The Trial A Worse Than Phrygian Foe; Who Lay In Wait For All The Host By Night, And Sallied Forth In Arms To Shed Our Blood; That, Had Not One In Heaven Foiled This Attempt, Our Lot Had Been To Lie As He Doth Here Dead And Undone For Ever, While He Lived And Flourished. Heaven Hath Turned This Turbulence To Fall Instead Upon The Harmless Flock. Wherefore No Strength Of Man Shall Once Avail To Encase His Body With A Seemly Tomb, But Outcast On The Wide And Watery Sand, He'Ll Feed The Birds That Batten On The Shore. Nor Let Thy Towering Spirit Therefore Rise In Threatening Wrath. Wilt Thou Or Not, Our Hand Shall Rule Him Dead, Howe'Er He Braved Us Living, And That By Force; For Never Would He Yield, Even While He Lived, To Words From Me. And Yet It Shows Base Metal When The Subject-Wight Deigns Not To Hearken To The Chief In Power. Since Without Settled Awe, Neither In States Can Laws Have Rightful Sway, Nor Can A Host Be Governed With Due Wisdom, If No Fear Or Wholesome Shame Be There To Shield Its Safety. And Though A Man Wax Great In Thews And Bulk, Let Him Be Warned: A Trifling Harm May Ruin Him. Whoever Knows Respect And Honour Both Stands Free From Risk Of Dark Vicissitude. But Whereso Pride And Licence Have Their Fling, Be Sure That State Will One Day Lose Her Course And Founder In The Abysm. Let Fear Have Place Still Where It Ought, Say I, Nor Let Men Think To Do Their Pleasure And Not Bide The Pain. That Wheel Comes Surely Round. Once Aias Flamed With Insolent Fierceness. Now I Mount In Pride, And Loudly Bid Thee Bury Him Not, Lest Burying Thy Brother Thou Be Burrowing Thine Own Grave. Ch. Menela'S, Make Not Thy Philosophy A Platform Whence To Insult The Valiant Dead. Teu. I Nevermore Will Marvel, Sirs, When One Of Humblest Parentage Is Prone To Sin, Since Those Reputed Men Of Noble Strain Stoop To Such Phrase Of Prating Frowardness. Come, Tell It O'Er Again,--Said You Ye Brought My Brother Bound To Aid You With His Power? Sailed He Not Forth Of His Own Sovereign Will? Where Is Thy Voucher Of Command O'Er Him? Where Of Thy Right O'Er Those That Followed Him? Sparta, Not We, Shall Buckle To Thy Sway. 'Twas Written Nowhere In The Bond Of Rule That Thou Shouldst Check Him Rather Than He Thee. Thou Sailedst Under Orders, Not In Charge Of All, Much Less Of Aias. Then Pursue Thy Limited Direction, And Chastise, In Haughty Phrase, The Men Who Fear Thy Nod. But I Will Bury Aias, Whether Thou Or The Other General Give Consent Or No. 'Tis Not For Me To Tremble At Your Word. Not To Reclaim Thy Wife, Like Those Poor Souls Thou Flll'St With Labour, Issued This Man Forth, But Caring For His Oath, And Not For Thee, Or Any Other Nobody. Then Come With Heralds All Arow, And Bring The Man Called King Of Men With Thee! For Thy Sole Noise I Budge Not, Wert Thou Twenty Times Thy Name. Ch. The Sufferer Should Not Bear A Bitter Tongue. Hard Words, How Just Soe'Er, Will Leave Their Sting. Men. Our Bowman Carries No Small Pride, I See. Teu. No Mere Mechanic'S Menial Craft Is Mine. Men. How Wouldst Thou Vaunt It Hadst Thou But A Shield! Teu. Unarmed I Fear Not Thee In Panoply. Men. Redoubted Is The Wrath Lives On Thy Tongue. Teu. Whose Cause Is Just Hath Licence To Be Proud. Men. Just, That My Murderer Have A Peaceful End? Teu. Thy Murderer? Strange, To Have Been Slain And Live! Men. Yea, Through Heaven'S Mercy. By His Will, I Am Dead. Teu. If Heaven Have Saved Thee, Give The Gods Their Due. Men. Am I The Man To Spurn At Heaven'S Command? Teu. Thou Dost, To Come And Frustrate Burial. Men. Honour Forbids To Yield My Foe A Tomb. Teu. And Aias Was Thy Foeman? Where And When? Men. Hate Lived Between Us; That Thou Know'St Full Well. Teu. For Thy Proved Knavery, Coining Votes I' The Court Men. The Judges Voted. He Ne'er Lost Through Me. Teu. Guilt Hiding Guile Wears Often Fairest Front. Men. I Know Whom Pain Shall Harass For That Word. Teu. Not Without Giving Equal Pain, 'Tis Clear. Men. No More, But This. No Burial For This Man! Teu. Yea, This Much More. He Shall Have Instant Burial. Men. I Have Seen Ere Now A Man Of Doughty Tongue Urge Sailors In Foul Weather To Unmoor, Who, Caught In The Sea-Misery By And By, Lay Voiceless, Muffled In His Cloak, And Suffered Who Would Of The Sailors Over Trample Him Even So Methinks Thy Truculent Mouth Ere Long Shall Quench Its Outcry, When This Little Cloud Breaks Forth On Thee With The Full Tempest'S Might. Teu. I Too Have Seen A Man Whose Windy Pride Poured Forth Loud Insults O'Er A Neighbour'S Fall, Till One Whose Cause And Temper Showed Like Mine Spake To Him In My Hearing This Plain Word: 'Man, Do The Dead No Wrong; But, If Thou Dost, Be Sure Thou Shalt Have Sorrow.' Thus He Warned The Infatuate One: Ay, One Whom I Behold, For All May Read My Riddle--Thou Art He. Men. I Will Be Gone. 'Twere Shame To Me, If Known, To Chide When I Have Power To Crush By Force. Teu. Off With You, Then! 'Twere Triple Shame In Me To List The Vain Talk Of A Blustering Fool. [Exit Menelaus Leader Of Chorus. High The Quarrel Rears His Head! Haste Thee, Teucer, Trebly Haste, Grave-Room For The Valiant Dead Furnish With What Speed Thou Mayst, Hollowed Deep Within The Ground, Where Beneath His Mouldering Mound Aias Aye Shall Be Renowned. Re-Enter Tecmessa With Eurysakes. Teu. Lo! Where The Hero'S Housemate And His Child, Hitting The Moment'S Need, Appear At Hand, To Tend The Burial Of The Ill Fated Dead. Come, Child, Take Thou Thy Station Close Beside: Kneel And Embrace The Author Of Thy Life, In Solemn Suppliant Fashion Holding Forth This Lock Of Thine Own Hair, And Hers, And Mine With Threefold Consecration, That If One Of The Army Force Thee From Thy Father'S Corse, My Curse May Banish Him From Holy Ground, Far From His Home, Unburied, And Cut Off From All His Race, Even As I Cut This Curl. There, Hold Him, Child, And Guard Him; Let No Hand Stir Thee, But Lean To The Calm Breast And Cling. (To Chorus) And Ye, Be Not Like Women In This Scene, Nor Let Your Manhoods Falter; Stand True Men To This Defence, Till I Return Prepared, Though All Cry No, To Give Him Burial. [Exit Chorus. When Shall The Tale Of Wandering Years Be Done? I 1 When Shall Arise Our Exile'S Latest Sun? Oh, Where Shall End The Incessant Woe Of Troublous Spear-Encounter With The Foe, Through This Vast Trojan Plain, Of Grecian Arms The Lamentable Stain? Would He Had Gone To Inhabit The Wide Sky, I 2 Or That Dark Home Of Death Where Millions Lie, Who Taught Our Grecian World The Way To Use Vile Swords And Knit The Dense Array! His Toil Gave Birth To Toil In Endless Line. He Made Mankind His Spoil. His Tyrant Will Hath Forced Me To Forgo Ii 1 The Garland, And The Goblet'S Bounteous Flow: Yea, And The Flute'S Dear Noise, And Night'S More Tranquil Joys; Ay Me! Nor Only These, The Fruits Of Golden Ease, But Love, But Love--O Crowning Sorrow!-- Hath Ceased For Me. I May Not Borrow Sweet Thoughts From Him To Smooth My Dreary Bed, Where Dank Night-Dews Fall Ever On My Head, Lest Once I Might Forget The Sadness Of The Morrow. Even Here In Troy, Aias Was Erst My Rock, Ii 2 From Darkling Fears And 'Mid The Battle-Shock To Screen Me With Huge Might: Now He Is Lost In Night And Horror. Where Again Shall Gladness Heal My Pain? O Were I Where The Waters Hoary, Round Sunium'S Pine-Clad Promontory, Plash Underneath The Flowery Upland Height. Then Holiest Athens Soon Would Come In Sight, And To Athena'S Self I Might Declare My Story. Enter Teucer. Teu. My Steps Were Hastened, Brethren, When I Saw Great Agamemnon Hitherward Afoot. He Means To Talk Perversely, I Can Tell. Enter Agamemnon. Ag. And So I Hear Thou'Lt Stretch Thy Mouth Agape With Big Bold Words Against Us Undismayed-- Thou, The She-Captive'S Offspring! High Would Scale Thy Voice, And Pert Would Be Thy Strutting Gait, Were But Thy Mother Noble; Since, Being Naught, So Stiff Thou Stand'St For Him Who Is Nothing Now, And Swear'St We Came Not As Commanders Here Of All The Achaean Navy, Nor Of Thee; But Aias Sailed, Thou Say'St, With Absolute Right. Must We Endure Detraction From A Slave? What Was The Man Thou Noisest Here So Proudly? Have I Not Set My Foot As Firm And Far? Or Stood His Valour Unaccompanied In All This Host? High Cause Have We To Rue That Prize-Encounter For Pelides' Arms, Seeing Teucer'S Sentence Stamps Our Knavery For All To Know It; And Nought Will Serve But Ye, Being Vanquished, Kick At The Award That Passed By Voice Of The Majority In The Court, And Either Pelt Us With Rude Calumnies, Or Stab At Us, Ye Laggards! With Base Guile. Howbeit, These Ways Will Never Help To Build The Wholesome Order Of Established Law, If Men Shall Hustle Victors From Their Right, And Mix The Hindmost Rabble With The Van. That Craves Repression. Not By Bulky Size, Or Shoulders' Breadth, The Perfect Man Is Known; But Wisdom Gives Chief Power In All The World. The Ox Hath A Huge Broadside, Yet Is Held Right In The Furrow By A Slender Goad; Which Remedy, I Perceive, Will Pass Ere Long To Visit Thee, Unless Thy Wisdom Grow; Who Hast Uttered Forth Such Daring Insolence For The Pale Shadow Of A Vanished Man. Learn Modestly To Know Thy Place And Birth, And Bring With Thee Some Freeborn Advocate To Plead Thy Cause Before Us In Thy Room. I Understand Not In The Barbarous Tongue, And All Thy Talk Sounds Nonsense To Mine Ear. Ch. Would Ye Might Both Have Sense To Curb Your Ire! No Better Hope For Either Can I Frame. Teu. Fie! How Doth Gratitude When Men Are Dead Prove Renegade And Swiftly Pass Away! This Agamemnon Hath No Slightest Word Of Kind Remembrance Any More For Thee, Aias, Who Oftentimes For His Behoof Hast Jeoparded Thy Life In Labour Of War. Now All Is Clean Forgotten And Out Of Mind. Thou Who Hast Multiplied Words Void Of Sense, Hast Thou No Faintest Memory Of The Time When Who But Aias Came And Rescued You Already Locked Within The Toils,--All Lost, The Rout Began: When Close Abaft The Ships The Torches Flared, And O'Er The Bootless Trench Hector Was Bounding High To Board Our Fleet? Who Stayed That Onset? Was Not Aias He? Whom Thou Deny'St To Have Once Set Foot By Thine. Find Ye No Merit There? And Once Again When He Met Hector Singly, Man To Man, Not By Your Bidding, But The Lottery'S Choice, His Lot, That Skulked Not Low Adown I' The Heap, A Moist Earth-Clod, But Sure To Spring In Air, And First To Clear The Plumy Helmet'S Brim. Yes, Aias Was The Man, And I Too There Kept Rank, The 'Barbarous Mother'S Servile Son.' I Pity Thee The Blindness Of That Word. Who Was Thy Father'S Father? A Barbarian, Pelops, The Phrygian, If You Trace Him Far! And What Was Atreus, Thine Own Father? One Who Served His Brother With The Abominable Dire Feast Of His Own Flesh. And Thou Thyself Cam'St From A Cretan Mother, Whom Her Sire Caught With A Man Who Had No Right In Her And Gave Dumb Fishes The Polluted Prey. Such Was Thy Race. What Is The Race Thou Spurnest? My Father, Telamon, Of All The Host Being Foremost Proved In Valour, Took As Prize My Mother For His Mate: A Princess She, Born Of Laomedon; Alcmena'S Son Gave Her To Grace Him--A Triumphant Meed. Thus Royally Descended And Thus Brave, Shall I Renounce The Brother Of My Blood, Or Suffer Thee To Thrust Him In His Woes Far From All Burial, Shameless That Thou Art? Be Sure That, If Ye Cast Him Forth, Ye'Ll Cast Three Bodies More Beside Him In One Spot; For Nobler Should I Find It Here To Die In Open Quarrel For My Kinsman'S Weal, Than For Thy Wife--Or Menela'S', Was 'T? Consider Then, Not My Case, But Your Own. For If You Harm Me You Will Wish Some Day To Have Been A Coward Rather Than Dare Me. Ch. Hail, Lord Odysseus! Thou Art Come In Time Not To Begin, But Help To End, A Fray. Enter Odysseus. Od. What Quarrel, Sirs? I Well Perceived From Far The Kings High-Voicing O'Er The Valiant Dead. Ag. Yea, Lord Odysseus, For Our Ears Are Full Of This Man'S Violent Heart-Offending Talk. Od. What Words Have Passed? I Cannot Blame The Man Who Meets Foul Speech With Bitterness Of Tongue. Ag. My Speech Was Bitter, For His Deeds Were Foul. Od. What Deed Of His Could Harm Thy Sovereign Head? Ag. He Boldly Says This Corse Shall Not Be Left Unburied, But He'Ll Bury It In Our Spite. Od. May I Then Speak True Counsel To My Friend, And Pull With Thee In Policy As Of Yore? Ag. Speak. I Were Else A Madman; For No Friend Of All The Argeians Do I Count Thy Peer. Od. Then Hear Me In Heaven'S Name! Be Not So Hard Thus Without Ruth Tombless To Cast Him Forth; Nor Be So Vanquished By A Vehement Will, That To Thy Hate Even Justice' Self Must Bow. I, Too, Had Him For My Worst Enemy, Since I Gained Mastery O'Er Pelides' Arms. But Though He Used Me So, I Ne'er Will Grudge For His Proud Scorn To Yield Him Thus Much Honour, That, Save Achilles' Self, I Have Not Seen So Noble An Argive On The Fields Of Troy. Then 'Twere Not Just In Thee To Slight Him Now; Nor Would Thy Treatment Wound Him, But Confound The Laws Of Heaven. No Hatred Should Have Scope To Offend The Noble Spirits Of The Dead. Ag. Wilt Thou Thus Fight Against Me On His Side? Od. Yea, Though I Hated Him, While Hate Was Comely. Ag. Why, Thou Shouldst Trample Him The More, Being Dead. Od. Rejoice Not, King, In Feats That Soil Thy Fame! Ag. 'Tis Hard For Power To Observe Each Pious Rule. Od. Not Hard To Grace The Good Words Of A Friend. Ag. The 'Noble Spirit' Should Hearken To Command. Od. No More! 'Tis Conquest To Be Ruled By Love. Ag. Remember What He Was Thou Gracest So. Od. A Noisome Enemy; But His Life Was Great. Ag. And Wilt Thou Honour Such A Pestilent Corse? Od. Hatred Gives Way To Magnanimity. Ag. With Addle-Pated Fools. Od. Full Many Are Found Friends For An Hour, Yet Bitter In The End. Ag. And Wouldst Thou Have Us Gentle To Such Friends? Od. I Would Not Praise Ungentleness In Aught. Ag. We Shall Be Known For Weaklings Through Thy Counsel. Od. Not So, But Righteous In All Grecian Eyes. Ag. Thou Bidst Me Then Let Bury This Dead Man? Od. I Urge Thee To The Course Myself Shall Follow. Ag. Ay, Every Man For His Own Line! That Holds. Od. Why Not For My Own Line? What Else Were Natural? Ag. 'Twill Be Thy Doing Then, Ne'er Owned By Me. Od. Own It Or Not, The Kindness Is The Same. Ag. Well, For Thy Sake I'D Grant A Greater Boon; Then Why Not This? However, Rest Assured That In The Grave Or Out Of It, Aias Still Shall Have My Hatred. Do Thou What Thou Wilt. [Exit Ch. Whoso Would Sneer At Thy Philosophy, While Such Thy Ways, Odysseus, Were A Fool. Od. And Now Let Teucer Know That From This Hour I Am More His Friend Than I Was Once His Foe, And Fain Would Help Him In This Burial-Rite And Service To His Brother, Nor Would Fail In Aught That Mortals Owe Their Noblest Dead. Teu. Odysseus, Best Of Men, Thine Every Word Hath My Heart'S Praise, And My Worst Thought Of Thee Is Foiled By Thy Staunch Kindness To The Man Who Was Thy Rancorous Foe. Thou Wast Not Keen To Insult In Present Of His Corse, Like These, The Insensate General And His Brother-King, Who Came With Proud Intent To Cast Him Forth Foully Debarred From Lawful Obsequy. Wherefore May He Who Rules In Yon Wide Heaven, And The Unforgetting Fury-Spirit, And She, Justice, Who Crowns The Right, So Ruin Them With Cruellest Destruction, Even As They Thought Ruthlessly To Rob Him Of His Tomb! For Thee, Revered La'Rtes' Lineal Seed, I Fear To Admit Thy Hand Unto This Rite, Lest We Offend The Spirit That Is Gone. But For The Rest, I Hail Thy Proffered Aid; And Bring Whom Else Thou Wilt, I'Ll Ne'er Resent It. This Work Shall Be My Single Care; But Thou, Be Sure I Love Thee For Thy Generous Heart. Od. I Had Gladly Done It; But, Since Thou Declinest, I Bow To Thy Decision, And Depart. [Exit Teu. Speed We, For The Hour Grows Late: Some To Scoop His Earthy Cell, Others By The Cauldron Wait, Plenished From The Purest Well. Hoist It, Comrades, Here At Hand, High Upon The Three-Foot Stand! Let The Cleansing Waters Flow; Brightly Flame The Fire Below! Others In A Stalwart Throng From His Chamber Bear Along All The Arms He Wont To Wield Save Alone The Mantling Shield. Thou With Me Thy Strength Employ, Lifting This Thy Father, Boy; Hold His Frame With Tender Heed-- Still The Gashed Veins Darkly Bleed. Who Professes Here To Love Him? Ply Your Busy Cares Above Him, Come And Labour For The Man, Nobler None Since Time Began, Aias, While His Life-Blood Ran. Leader Of Ch. Oft We Know Not Till We See. Weak Is Human Prophecy. Judge Not, Till The Hour Have Taught Thee What The Destinies Have Brought Thee.