Part 11 (1/2)

RHODOPE

Starry wonder that she was, Caged like sea-bird in his arms, See her pa.s.sion thrill, then pa.s.s From him who, doting on her charms, So became abominable.

Watch her bosom dip and swell, See her nostrils fan and curve At his touch who loved not well, But loved too much, who broke the spell; Watch her proud head stiffen and swerve.

GORGO

Upon the wall with claspt white hands See her vigil keep intent, Argive Helen, lo! she stands Looking seaward where the fires Hem the sh.o.r.e innumerable; Sign of that avenging host, All Achaia's chivalry, Past the tongue of man to tell, Peers and kindred of her sires Come to win back Helen lost.

MYRTILLA

There to her in that gray hour, That gray hour before the sun, Cometh he she waiteth for, Menelaus like a ghost, Like a dry leaf tempest-tost, Stalking restless, her reproach.

PASIPHa.s.sA

There alone, those two, long severed been, Eye each other, one wild heart between.

SITYS

”O thou ruinous face, O thou fatally fair, O the pity of thee!

What dost thou there, Watching the madness of me?”

CHTHONOe

Him seemed her eyes were pools of dark To drown him, yet no word she spake; But gazing, grave as a lonely house, All her wonder thrilled to wake.

RHODOPE

”By thy roses and snow, By thy sun-litten hair, By thy low bosom and slow Pondered kisses, O hear!

”By thy glimmering eyes, By thy burning cheek, By thy murmuring sighs, Speak, Helen, O speak!

”Ruinous Face, O Ruinous Face, Art thou come so early,” he said, ”So early forth from the wicked bed?”

GORGO

Him she pondered, grave and still, Stirring not from her safe place: He marked the glow, he felt the thrill, He saw the dawn new in her face.

MYRTILLA

Within her low voice wailed the tone Of one who grieves and prays for death: ”Lord, I am come to be alone, Alone here with my sorrow,” she saith.

PASIPHa.s.sA

”False wife, what pity was thine For hearth and altar, for man and child?

What is thy sorrow worth unto mine?”

She rocked, moaning, ”I was beguiled!”