Part 18 (1/2)

I ask not that my bones be borne home to Argos or Aetolia; I care not for my last rites of funeral; I hate these limbs and this frail tenement, my body, that fails my spirit in its hour of need.

His one thought is for vengeance on the dead body of the man who has slain him[564] and for the victory of his comrades in arms.

Only one other of the heroes has any real existence, the prophet Amphiaraus. Statius does not give him the prominence that he held in the original epic, and misses a n.o.ble opportunity by almost ignoring the dramatic story of Eriphyla and the necklace that won her to persuade her husband to go forth to certain death. But the heroic warrior priest of Apollo, who knows his doom and yet faces it fearlessly, could not fail to be a picturesque figure, and at least in the hour of his death Statius has done him full justice. Apollo, disguised as a mortal, mounts the chariot of Amphiaraus and drives him through the midst of the battle, dealing destruction on this side and that (vii. 770):

tandem se famulo summum confessus Apollo 'utere luce tua longamque' ait, 'indue famam, dum tibi me iunctum mors inrevocata veretur.

vincimur: immites scis nulla revolvere Parcas stamina; vade, diu populis promissa voluptas Elysiis, certe non perpessure Creontis imperia aut vet.i.to nudus iaciture sepulcro.'

ille refert contra, et paulum respirat ab armis: 'olim te, Cirrhaee pater, peritura sedentem ad iuga (quis tantus miseris honor?) axe trementi sensimus; instantes quonam usque morabere manes?

audio iam rapidae cursum Stygis atraque Ditis flumina tergeminosque mali custodis hiatus.

accipe commissum capiti decus, accipe laurus, quas Erebo deferre nefas. nunc voce suprema, si qua recessuro debetur gratia vati, deceptum tibi, Phoebe, larem poenasque nefandae coniugis et pulchrum nati commendo furorem.'

desiluit maerens lacrimasque avert.i.t Apollo.

At length Apollo revealed himself to his servant. 'Use,' he said, 'the light of life that is left thee and win an age of fame while thy doom still unrepealed shrinks back in awe of me.

The foemen conquer: thou knowest the cruel fates never unravel the threads they weave: go forward, thou, the promised darling of the peoples of Elysium; for surely thou shalt ne'er endure the tyranny of Creon, or lie naked, denied a grave.' He answered, pausing awhile from the fray: 'Long since, lord of Cirrha, the trembling axle told me that 'twas thou sat'st by my doomed steeds.

Why honourest thou a wretched mortal thus? How long wilt thou delay the advancing dead? Even now I hear the course of headlong Styx, and the dark streams of death, and the triple barking of the accursed guard of h.e.l.l. Take now thine honours bound about my brow, take now the laurel crown I may not bear down unto Erebus: now with my last utterance, if aught of thanks thou owest thy seer that now must pa.s.s away, to thee I trust my wronged hearth, the doom of my accursed wife, and the n.o.ble madness of my son (Alcmaeon).' Apollo leapt from the car in grief and strove to hide his tears.

An earthquake shakes the plain; the warriors shrink from battle in terror at the thunder from under-ground; when (816)--

ecce alte praeceps humus ore profundo dissilit, inque vicem timuerunt sidera et umbrae.

illum ingens haurit specus et transire parantes mergit equos; non arma manu, non frena remisit: sicut erat, rectos defert in Tartara currus respexitque cadens caelum campumque coire ingemuit, donec levior distantia rursus miscuit arva tremor lucemque exclusit Averno.

Lo! the earth gaped sheer and deep with vast abyss, and the stars of heaven and the shades of the dead trembled with one accord: a vast chasm drew him down and swallowed his steeds as they made ready to leap the gulf: he loosed not the grip on rein or spear, but, as he was, carried his car steadfast to Tartarus, and, as he fell, gazed up to heaven and groaned to see the plain close above him, till a lighter shock once more united the gaping fields and shut out the light from h.e.l.l.

Here we see Statius at his highest level, whether in point of metre, diction, or poetic imagination.

Of the other characters there is little to be said. For all the wealth of detail that Statius has lavished on them, they are featureless.

Adrastus is a colourless and respectable old king, strongly reminiscent of Latinus. Capaneus and Hippomedon are terrific warriors of gigantic stature and truculent speech, but they are wholly uninteresting. Argia and Jocasta are too rhetorical, Antigone too slight a figure to be really pathetic; Oedipus can do little save curse, which he does with some rhetorical vigour; but the gift of cursing hardly makes a character. Parthenopaeus, however, is a pathetic figure; he is an Arcadian, the son of Atalanta, a mere boy whom a romantic ambition has hurried into war ere his years were ripe for it. His dying speech is touching, though it errs on the side of triviality and mere prettiness (ix. 877):

at puer infusus sociis in devia campi tollitur (heu simplex aetas!) moriensque iacentem flebat equum; cecidit laxata ca.s.side vultus, aegraque per trepidos exspirat gratia visus, * * * * *

ibat purpureus niveo de pectore sanguis.

tandem haec singultu verba incidente profatur: 'labimur, i, miseram, Dorceu, solare parentem.

illa quidem, si vera ferunt praesagia curae, aut somno iam triste nefas aut omine vidit.

tu tamen arte pia trepidam suspende diuque decipito; neu tu subitus neve arma tenenti veneris, et tandem, c.u.m iam cogere fateri, dic: ”Merui, genetrix, poenas invita capesse; arma puer rapui, nec te retinente quievi, nec tibi sollicitae tandem inter bella peperci.

vive igitur potiusque animis irascere nostris, et iam pone metus. frustra de colle Lycaei anxia prospectas, si quis per nubila longe aut sonus aut nostro sublatus ab agmine pulvis: frigidus et nuda iaceo tellure, nec usquam tu prope, quae vultus efflantiaque ora teneres.

hunc tamen, orba parens, crinem”--dextraque secandum praebuit--”hunc toto capies pro corpore crinem, comere quem frustra me dedignante solebas.

huic dabis exsequias, atque inter iusta memento, ne quis inexpertis hebetet mea tela lacertis dilectosque canes ullis agat amplius antris.

haec autem primis arma infelicia castris ure, vel ingratae crimen suspende Dianae.”'

But the boy fell into his comrades' arms and they bore him to a place apart. Alas for his tender years! As he died, he wept for his fallen horse: his face drooped as they unbound his helmet, and a fading grace pa.s.sed faintly o'er his quivering visage....

The purple blood flowed from his breast of snow. At length he spake these words through sobs that checked his utterance: 'My life is falling from me; go, Dorceus, comfort my unhappy mother: she indeed, if care and sorrow can give foreknowledge, has seen my woeful fate in dreams or through some omen; yet do thou with loving art keep her terrors in suspense and long hold back the truth; and come not upon her suddenly, nor when she hath a weapon in her hands; but when at last the truth must out, say: ”Mother, I deserved my doom; I am punished, though my punishment break thy heart. I rushed to arms too young, and abode not at home when thou wouldst restrain me: nor had I any pity for thine anguish in the day of battle. Live on then, and keep thine anger for my headstrong courage and fear no more for me. In vain thou gazest from the Lycaean height, if any sound perchance may be borne from far to thine ear through the clouds, or thine eye have sight of the dust raised by our homeward march. I lie cold upon the bare earth, and thou art nowhere nigh to hold my head as my lips breathe farewell. Yet, childless mother, take this lock of hair”-- and in his right hand he stretched it out to be cut away--”take this poor lock in place of my whole body, this lock of that hair which thou didst tire in my despite. To it shalt thou give due burial and remember this also as my due; let no man blunt my spears with unskilful cast, nor any more drive the hounds I loved through any caverned glen. But this mine armour, whose first battle hath brought disaster, burn thou, or hang it to be a reproach to Dian's ingrat.i.tude.”'

When we have said that Parthenopaeus is almost too young to have been accepted as a leader, or have performed the feats of war a.s.signed to him, we have said all that can be said against this beautiful speech.

Parthenopaeus is for the _Thebais_ what Camilla is for the _Aeneid_, though he presents at times hints both of Pallas and Euryalus. But he is little more than a child, and fails to carry the conviction or awaken the deep emotion excited by the Amazon of Vergil.[565]

Statius then, with a few striking exceptions, fails in his portrayal of life and character. On the whole--one says it with reluctance in view of his brilliant variety, his boundless invention, his wealth of imagery--the same is true of his descriptions. The picture is too crowded; he has not the unerring eye for the relevant or salient points of a scene. Skilful and faithful touches abound, but, as in the case of certain pre-Raphaelite pictures, extreme attention to detail causes him to miss the full scenic effect. He is not sufficiently the impressionist; he cannot suggest--a point in which he presents a strong contrast to Valerius Flaccus. And too many of his incidents, in spite of ingenious variation of detail, are but echoes of Vergil. The foot-race and the archery contest at the funeral games of Archemorus, together with the episode of Dymas and Hopleus,[566] to which we have already referred, are perhaps the most marked examples of this unfortunate characteristic. We are continually saying to ourselves as we read the _Thebais_, 'All this has been before!' We weary at times of the echoes of Homer in Vergil, and the combats that stirred us in the _Iliad_ make us drowsy in the _Aeneid_. Homer knew what fighting was from personal experience, or at least from being in touch with warriors who had killed their man. Vergil had come no nearer these things than 'in the pages of a book '. Statius is yet one remove further from the truth than Vergil. He is tied hand and foot by his intimate acquaintance with previous poetic literature. If he is less the victim of the schools of rhetoric than many post-Augustan writers, he is more than most the victim of the poetic training of the schools.