Part 20 (1/2)
The grieving housewives eye it; heaped and blent, Earth's boons are spoiled and spent, And waste to nothingness; and O alas, Young maids, forlorn ye pa.s.s- Fresh horror at your hearts-beneath the power Of those who crop the flower!
Ye own the ruffian ravisher for lord, And night brings rites abhorred!
Woe, woe for you! upon your grief and pain There comes a fouler stain.
[Enter, on one side, THE SPY; on the other, ETEOCLES and the SIX CHAMPIONS.
SEMI-CHORUS
Look, friends! methinks the scout, who parted hence To spy upon the foemen, comes with news, His feet as swift as wafting chariot-wheels.
SEMI-CHORUS
Ay, and our king, the son of Oedipus, Comes prompt to time, to learn the spy's report- His heart is fainter than his foot is fast!
THE SPY
Well have I scanned the foe, and well can say Unto which chief, by lot, each gate is given.
Tydeus already with his onset-cry Storms at the gate called Proetides; but him The seer Amphiaraus holds at halt, Nor wills that he should cross Ismenus' ford, Until the sacrifices promise fair.
But Tydeus, mad with l.u.s.t of blood and broil, Like to a c.o.c.katrice at noontide hour, Hisses out wrath and smites with scourge of tongue The prophet-son of Oecleus-Wise thou art, Faint against war, and holding back from death!
With such revilings loud upon his lips He waves the triple plumes that o'er his helm Float overshadowing, as a courser's mane; And at his s.h.i.+eld's rim, terror in their tone, Clang and reverberate the brazen bells.
And this proud sign, wrought on his s.h.i.+eld, he bears- The vault of heaven, inlaid with blazing stars; And, for the boss, the bright moon glows at full, The eye of night, the first and lordliest star.
Thus with high-vaunted armour, madly bold, He clamours by the stream-bank, wild for war, As a steed panting grimly on his bit, Held in and chafing for the trumpet's bray!
Whom wilt thou set against him? when the gates Of Proetus yield, who can his rush repel?
ETEOCLES
To me, no blazon on a foeman's s.h.i.+eld Shall e'er present a fear! such pointed threats Are powerless to wound; his plumes and bells, Without a spear, are snakes without a sting.
Nay, more-that pageant of which thou tellest- The nightly sky displayed, ablaze with stars, Upon his s.h.i.+eld, palters with double sense- One headstrong fool will find its truth anon!
For, if night fall upon his eyes in death, Yon vaunting blazon will its own truth prove, And he is prophet of his folly's fall.
Mine shall it be, to pit against his power The loyal son of Astacus, as guard To hold the gateways-a right valiant soul, Who has in heed the throne of Modesty And loathes the speech of Pride, and evermore Shrinks from the base, but knows no other fear.
He springs by stock from those whom Ares spared, The men called Sown, a right son of the soil, And Melanippus styled. Now, what his arm To-day shall do, rests with the dice of war, And Ares shall ordain it; but his cause Hath the true badge of Right, to urge him on To guard, as son, his motherland from wrong.
CHORUS
Then may the G.o.ds give fortune fair Unto our chief, sent forth to dare War's terrible arbitrament!
But ah! when champions wend away, I shudder, lest, from out the fray, Only their blood-stained wrecks be sent!
THE SPY
Nay, let him pa.s.s, and the G.o.ds' help be his!
Next, Capaneus comes on, by lot to lead The onset at the gates Electran styled: A giant he, more huge than Tydeus' self, And more than human in his arrogance- May fate forefend his threat against our walls!
G.o.d willing, or unwilling-such his vaunt- I will lay waste this city; Pallas' self, Zeus' warrior maid, although she swoop to earth And plant her in my path, shall stay me not.
And, for the flashes of the levin-bolt, He holds them harmless as the noontide rays.
Mark, too, the symbol on his s.h.i.+eld-a man Scornfully weaponless but torch in hand, And the flame glows within his grasp, prepared For ravin: lo, the legend, wrought in words, Fire for the city bring I, flares in gold!
Against such wight, send forth-yet whom? what man Will front that vaunting figure and not fear?
ETEOCLES
Aha, this profits also, gain on gain!
In sooth, for mortals, the tongue's utterance Bewrays unerringly a foolish pride!
Hither stalks Capaneus, with vaunt and threat Defying G.o.d-like powers, equipt to act, And, mortal though he be, he strains his tongue In folly's ecstasy, and casts aloft High swelling words against the ears of Zeus.
Right well I trust-if justice grants the word- That, by the might of Zeus, a bolt of flame In more than semblance shall descend on him.
Against his vaunts, though reckless, I have set, To make a.s.surance sure, a warrior stern- Strong Polyphontes, fervid for the fray; A st.u.r.dy bulwark, he, by grace of Heaven And favour of his champion Artemis!
Say on, who holdeth the next gate in ward?
CHORUS
Perish the wretch whose vaunt affronts our home!
On him the red bolt come, Ere to the maiden bowers his way he cleave, To ravage and bereave!