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Robert Browning - Delphi Poets Series

Page 303

by Robert Browning


  Wanders about gone wild,

  A dream in day.

  But thou, Tundareus’ daughter, Klutaimnestra queen,

  What need? What new? What having heard or seen,

  By what announcement’s tidings, everywhere

  Settest thou, round about, the sacrifice a-flare?

  For, of all gods the city-swaying,

  Those supernal, those infernal,

  Those of the fields’, those of the mart’s obeying, —

  The altars blaze with gifts;

  And here and there, heaven-high the torch uplifts

  Flame — medicated with persuasions mild,

  With foul admixture unbeguiled —

  Of holy unguent, from the clotted chrism

  Brought from the palace, safe in its abysm.

  Of these things, speaking what may be indeed

  Both possible and lawful to concede,

  Healer do thou become! — of this solicitude

  Which, now, stands plainly forth of evil mood,

  And, then . . . but from oblations, hope, to-day

  Gracious appearing, wards away

  From soul the insatiate care,

  The sorrow at my breast, devouring there!

  Empowered am I to sing

  The omens, what their force which, journeying,

  Rejoiced the potentates:

  (For still, from God, inflates

  My breast song-suasion: age,

  Born to the business, still such war can wage)

  — How the fierce bird against the Teukris land

  Despatched, with spear and executing hand,

  The Achaian’s two-throned empery — o’er Hellas’ youth

  Two rulers with one mind:

  The birds’ king to these kings of ships, on high,

  — The black sort, and the sort that’s white behind, —

  Appearing by the palace, on the spear-throw side,

  In right sky-regions, visible far and wide, —

  Devouring a hare-creature, great with young,

  Baulked of more racings they, as she from whom they sprung!

  Ah, Linos, say — ah, Linos, song of wail!

  But may the good prevail!

  The prudent army-prophet seeing two

  The Atreidai, two their tempers, knew

  Those feasting on the hare

  The armament-conductors were;

  And thus he spoke, explaining signs in view.

  “In time, this outset takes the town of Priamos:

  But all before its towers, — the people’s wealth that was,

  Of flocks and herds, — as sure, shall booty-sharing thence

  Drain to the dregs away, by battle violence.

  Only, have care lest grudge of any god disturb

  With cloud the unsullied shine of that great force, the curb

  Of Troia, struck with damp

  Beforehand in the camp!

  For envyingly is

  The virgin Artemis

  Toward — her father’s flying hounds — this House —

  The sacrificers of the piteous

  And cowering beast,

  Brood and all, ere the birth: she hates the eagles’ feast.

  Ah, Linos, say — ah, Linos, song of wail!

  But may the good prevail!

  “Thus ready is the beauteous one with help

  To those small dewdrop-things fierce lions whelp,

  And udder-loving litter of each brute

  That roams the mead; and therefore makes she suit,

  The fair one, for fulfilment to the end

  Of things these signs portend —

  Which partly smile, indeed, but partly scowl —

  The phantasms of the fowl.

  I call Ieïos Paian to avert

  She work the Danaoi hurt

  By any thwarting waftures, long and fast

  Holdings from sail of ships:

  And sacrifice, another than the last,

  She for herself precipitate —

  Something unlawful, feast for no man’s lips,

  Builder of quarrels, with the House cognate —

  Having in awe no husband: for remains

  A frightful, backward-darting in the path,

  Wily house-keeping chronicler of wrath,

  That has to punish that old children’s fate!”

  Such things did Kalchas, — with abundant gains

  As well, — vociferate,

  Predictions from the birds, in journeying,

  Above the abode of either king.

  With these, symphonious, sing —

  Ah, Linos, say — ah, Linos, song of wail!

  But may the good prevail!

  Zeus, whosoe’er he be, — if that express

  Aught dear to him on whom I call —

  So do I him address.

  I cannot liken out, by all

  Admeasurement of powers,

  Any but Zeus for refuge at such hours,

  If veritably needs I must

  From off my soul its vague care-burthen thrust.

  Not — whosoever was the great of yore,

  Bursting to bloom with bravery all round —

  Is in our mouths: he was, but is no more.

  And who it was that after came to be,

  Met the thrice-throwing wrestler, — he

  Is also gone to ground.

  But “Zeus” — if any, heart and soul, that name —

  Shouting the triumph-praise — proclaim,

  Complete in judgment shall that man be found.

  Zeus, who leads onward mortals to be wise,

  Appoints that suffering masterfully teach.

  In sleep, before the heart of each,

  A woe-remembering travail sheds in dew

  Discretion, — ay, and melts the unwilling too

  By what, perchance, may be a graciousness

  Of gods, enforced no less, —

  As they, commanders of the crew,

  Assume the awful seat.

  And then the old leader of the Achaian fleet,

  Disparaging no seer —

  With bated breath to suit misfortune’s inrush here

  — (What time it laboured, that Achaian host,

  By stay from sailing, — every pulse at length

  Emptied of vital strength, —

  Hard over Kalchis shore-bound, current-crost

  In Aulis station, — while the winds which post

  From Strumon, ill-delayers, famine-fraught,

  Tempters of man to sail where harbourage is naught,

  Spendthrifts of ships and cables, turning time

  To twice the length, — these carded, by delay,

  To less and less away

  The Argeians’ flowery prime:

  And when a remedy more grave and grand

  Than aught before, — yea, for the storm and dearth, —

  The prophet to the foremost in command

  Shrieked forth, as cause of this

  Adducing Artemis,

  So that the Atreidai striking staves on earth

  Could not withhold the tear) —

  Then did the king, the elder, speak this clear.

  “Heavy the fate, indeed, — to disobey!

  Yet heavy if my child I slay,

  The adornment of my household: with the tide

  Of virgin-slaughter, at the altar-side,

  A father’s hands defiling: which the way

  Without its evils, say?

  How shall I turn fleet-fugitive,

  Failing of duty to allies?

  Since for a wind-abating sacrifice

  And virgin blood, — ’t is right they strive,

  Nay, madden with desire.

  Well may it work them — this that they require!”

  But when he underwent necessity’s

  Yoke-trace, — from soul blowing unhallowed change

  Unclean, abominable, — thence — another man —

  The audacious mind of him began

>   Its wildest range.

  For this it is gives mortals hardihood —

  Some vice-devising miserable mood

  Of madness, and first woe of all the brood.

  The sacrificer of his daughter — strange! —

  He dared become, to expedite

  Woman-avenging warfare, — anchors weighed

  With such prelusive rite!

  Prayings and callings “Father” — naught they made

  Of these, and of the virgin-age, —

  Captains heart-set on war to wage!

  His ministrants, vows done, the father bade —

  Kid-like, above the altar, swathed in pall,

  Take her — lift high, and have no fear at all,

  Head-downward, and the fair mouth’s guard

  And frontage hold, — press hard

  From utterance a curse against the House

  By dint of bit — violence bridling speech.

  And as to ground her saffron-vest she shed,

  She smote the sacrificers all and each

  With arrow sweet and piteous,

  From the eye only sped, —

  Significant of will to use a word,

  Just as in pictures: since, full many a time,

  In her sire’s guest-hall, by the well-heaped board

  Had she made music, — lovingly with chime

  Of her chaste voice, that unpolluted thing,

  Honoured the third libation, — paian that should bring

  Good fortune to the sire she loved so well.

  What followed — those things I nor saw nor tell.

  But Kalchas’ arts, — whate’er they indicate, —

  Miss of fulfilment never: it is fate.

  True, justice makes, in sufferers, a desire

  To know the future woe preponderate.

  But — hear before is need?

  To that, farewell and welcome! ‘t is the same, indeed,

  As grief beforehand: clearly, part for part,

  Conformably to Kalchas’ art,

  Shall come the event.

  But be they as they may, things subsequent, —

  What is to do, prosperity betide

  E’en as we wish it! — we, the next allied,

  Sole guarding barrier of the Apian land.

  I am come, reverencing power in thee,

  O Klutaimnestra! For ‘t is just we bow

  To the ruler’s wife, — the male-seat man-bereaved.

  But if thou, having heard good news, — or none, —

  For good news’ hope dost sacrifice thus wide,

  I would hear gladly: art thou mute, — no grudge!

  KLUTAIMNESTRA.

  Good-news-announcer, may — as is the by-word —

  Morn become, truly, — news from Night his mother!

  But thou shalt learn joy past all hope of hearing.

  Priamos’ city have the Argeioi taken.

  CHOROS.

  How sayest? The word, from want of faith, escaped me.

  KLUTAIMNESTRA.

  Troia the Achaioi hold: do I speak plainly?

  CHOROS.

  Joy overcreeps me, calling forth the tear-drop.

  KLUTAIMNESTRA.

  Right! for, that glad thou art, thine eye convicts thee.

  CHOROS.

  For — what to thee, of all this, trusty token?

  KLUTAIMNESTRA.

  What’s here! how else? unless the god have cheated.

  CHOROS.

  Haply thou flattering shows of dreams respectest?

  KLUTAIMNESTRA.

  No fancy would I take of soul sleep-burthened.

  CHOROS.

  But has there puffed thee up some unwinged omen?

  KLUTAIMNESTRA.

  As a young maid’s my mind thou mockest grossly.

  CHOROS.

  Well, at what time was — even sacked, the city?

  KLUTAIMNESTRA.

  Of this same mother Night — the dawn, I tell thee.

  CHOROS.

  And who of messengers could reach this swiftness?

  KLUTAIMNESTRA.

  Hephaistos — sending a bright blaze from Ide.

  Beacon did beacon send, from fire the poster,

  Hitherward: Ide to the rock Hermaian

  Of Lemnos: and a third great torch o’ the island

  Zeus’ seat received in turn, the Athoan summit.

  And, — so upsoaring as to stride sea over,

  The strong lamp-voyager, and all for joyance —

  Did the gold-glorious splendour, any sun like,

  Pass on — the pine-tree — to Makistos’ watch-place;

  Who did not, — tardy, — caught, no wits about him,

  By sleep, — decline his portion of the missive.

  And far the beacon’s light, on stream Euripos

  Arriving, made aware Messapios’ warders,

  And up they lit in turn, played herald onwards,

  Kindling with flame a heap of grey old heather.

  And, strengthening still, the lamp, decaying nowise,

  Springing o’er Plain Asopos, — full-moon-fashion

  Effulgent, — toward the crag of Mount Kithairon,

  Roused a new rendering-up of fire the escort —

  And light, far escort, lacked no recognition

  O’ the guard — as burning more than burnings told you.

  And over Lake Gorgopis light went leaping,

  And, at Mount Aigiplanktos safe arriving,

  Enforced the law — ”to never stint the fire-stuff.”

  And they send, lighting up with ungrudged vigour,

  Of flame a huge beard, ay, the very foreland

  So as to strike above, in burning onward,

  The look-out which commands the Strait Saronic.

  Then did it dart until it reached the outpost

  Mount Arachnaios here, the city’s neighbour;

  And then darts to this roof of the Atreidai

  This light of Ide’s fire not unforefathered!

  Such are the rules prescribed the flambeau-bearers:

  He beats that’s first and also last in running.

  Such is the proof and token I declare thee,

  My husband having sent me news from Troia.

  CHOROS.

  The gods, indeed, anon will I pray, woman!

  But now, these words to hear, and sate my wonder

  Thoroughly, I am fain — if twice thou tell them.

  KLUTAIMNESTRA.

  Troia do the Achaioi hold, this same day.

  I think a noise — no mixture — reigns i’ the city.

  Sour wine and unguent pour thou in one vessel —

  Standers-apart, not lovers, wouldst thou style them:

  And so, of captives and of conquerors, partwise

  The voices are to hear, of fortune diverse.

  For those, indeed, upon the bodies prostrate

  Of husbands, brothers, children upon parents

  — The old men, from a throat that’s free no longer,

  Shriekingly wail the death-doom of their dearest:

  While these — the after-battle hungry labour,

  Which prompts night-faring, marshals them to breakfast

  On the town’s store, according to no billet

  Of sharing, but as each drew lot of fortune.

  In the spear-captured Troic habitations

  House they already: from the frosts upæthral

  And dews delivered, will they, luckless creatures,

  Without a watch to keep, slumber all night through.

  And if they fear the gods, the city-guarders,

  And the gods’ structures of the conquered country,

  They may not — capturers — soon in turn be captive.

  But see no prior lust befall the army

  To sack things sacred — by gain-cravings vanquished!

  For there needs homeward the return’s salvation,

  To round the new limb back o’ the double race-course.

&nb
sp; And guilty to the gods if came the army,

  Awakened up the sorrow of those slaughtered

  Might be — should no outbursting evils happen.

  But may good beat — no turn to see i’ the balance!

  For, many benefits I want the gain of.

  CHOROS.

  Woman, like prudent man thou kindly speakest.

  And I, thus having heard thy trusty tokens,

  The gods to rightly hail forthwith prepare me;

  For, grace that must be paid has crowned our labours.

  O Zeus the king, and friendly Night

  Of these brave boons bestower —

  Thou who didst fling on Troia’s every tower

  The o’er-roofing snare, that neither great thing might,

  Nor any of the young ones, overpass

  Captivity’s great sweep-net — one and all

  Of Ate held in thrall!

  Ay, Zeus I fear — the guest’s friend great — who was

  The doer of this, and long since bent

  The bow on Alexandros with intent

  That neither wide o’ the white

  Nor o’er the stars the foolish dart should light.

  The stroke of Zeus — they have it, as men say!

  This, at least, from the source track forth we may!

  As he ordained, so has he done.

  “No” — said someone —

  “The gods think fit to care

  Nowise for mortals, such

  As those by whom the good and fair

  Of things denied their touch

  Is trampled!” but he was profane.

  That they do care, has been made plain

  To offspring of the over-bold,

  Outbreathing “Ares” greater than is just —

  Houses that spill with more than they can hold,

  More than is best for man. Be man’s what must

  Keep harm off, so that in himself he find

  Sufficiency — the well-endowed of mind!

  For there’s no bulwark in man’s wealth to him

  Who, through a surfeit, kicks — into the dim

  And disappearing — Right’s great altar.

  Yes —

  It urges him, the sad persuasiveness,

  Ate’s insufferable child that schemes

  Treason beforehand: and all cure is vain.

  It is not hidden: out it glares again,

  A light dread-lamping-mischief, just as gleams

  The badness of the bronze;

  Through rubbing, puttings to the touch,

  Black-clotted is he, judged at once.

  He seeks — the boy — a flying bird to clutch,

  The insufferable brand

  Setting upon the city of his land

  Whereof not any god hears prayer;

  While him who brought about such evils there,

  That unjust man, the god in grapple throws.

  Such an one, Paris goes

  Within the Atreidai’s house —

  Shamed the guest’s board by robbery of the spouse.

 

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