Part 16 (2/2)

CADMUS.

Child, we are come into a deadly strait, All; thou, poor sufferer, and thy sisters twain, And my sad self. Far off to barbarous men, A grey-haired wanderer, I must take my road.

And then the oracle, the doom of G.o.d, That I must lead a raging horde far-flown To prey on h.e.l.las; lead my spouse, mine own Harmonia, Ares' child, discorporate And haunting forms, dragon and dragon-mate.

Against the tombs and altar-stones of Greece, Lance upon lance behind us; and not cease From toils, like other men, nor dream, nor past The foam of Acheron find my peace at last.

AGAVE.

Father! And I must wander far from thee!

CADMUS.

O Child, why wilt thou reach thine arms to me, As yearns the milk-white swan, when old swans die?

AGAVE.

Where shall I turn me else? No home have I.

CADMUS.

I know not; I can help thee not.

AGAVE.

Farewell, O home, O ancient tower!

Lo, I am outcast from my bower, And leave ye for a worser lot.

CADMUS.

Go forth, go forth to misery, The way Actaeon's father went!

AGAVE.

Father, for thee my tears are spent.

CADMUS.

Nay, Child, 'tis I must weep for thee;

For thee and for thy sisters twain!

AGAVE.

On all this house, in bitter wise, Our Lord and Master, Dionyse, Hath poured the utter dregs of pain!

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